The Correspondent, February - March 2004 by The Foreign Correspondents' Club, Hong Kong

THE OFFICIAL PUBLI

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REIGN CORRESPONDENTS'

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Sandra Burton A Life Remembered

From Correspondent to Cowboy

Steve Cray On The Wall A Centurion Speaks

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From the Presidenl

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Cover Story

- A Centurion Speaks - Flashback to the Year of the Monkey 1968 - Stiletto - Max Kolbe Dissects the Media World

Feature

Sandra Burton: A

Momma Don't let'Your Cowboys Grow Up To Be Newsmen

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Steve Cray on the Wall

Letter from Shanghai

Eat Your Hearts Out, Rugby Fans

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Around the

FCC

Quiz Night

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with a generally lousy economy in Hong Kong last year, combined to push the Club into a pretty hefty deficit for most of the past year. At

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cost about $l million, installing a new fire alarm system, which will run $70,000 or so, and some upgrades to

kitchen work areas, costing about $150,000. Within two years, we probably

will begin major repairs

more, plus cost us some business because the upstairs rooms

offer good food and

to be shut briefly.

interesting

the roof, which will run $2 million or

worked hard during tough times to programmes and events for members. The Board made a few changes, and

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our most successful effort has been in our focus on expanding membership. We are now back up to about 1,600 members after sinking below 1,500 early last year. And Tony Nedderman's eagle eye on the books has helped us keep costs contained. W'e are, however, going to have to dip into our savings for several maintenance jobs. Among the projects we will have to pay for soon are repainting the exterior, which will

will

have

Fortunately, we

don't have any other big projects ahead of us. Thanks to Dave Garcia 3

and the House Committee, other than the roof, just about every corner of the

building has been

renovated,

upgraded, painted or repaired in the past srx or seven years. The good news for the whole town is that the economy is finally starting

to grow again. Plenty of economists are predicting we'll be seeing inflation within a year, after years of deflation. Already, the Club is seeing prices rise in several areas that matter to us. One problem is that the

weak U.S. dollar is raising costs dramatically for wine, some liquors and much of our meat and dairy products. The mad cow scare in the U.S. and bird flu in Asia and the U.S. also may force up prices for beef and

poultry. With the euro and the Australian dollar up against the dollar more Lhan 30 percent since their lows a few years ago, we're lacing a squeeze. The House Food & Beverage Committee and Gilbert are looking at ways to minimise the dollar's effect, by doing such things as buying some of our non-perishable goods six months out. The bottom line is that although the Club's sales and membership numbers are looking much better this year than last year, we still will find things tight. Other than wine priees, which we have at times had to raise because of new taxes, and the recent

rise in beef prices, the

Club essentially has not had to raise its food or beverage prices in about

seven years, and some prices have been cut over the years. We also have not had to raise our subscription fees. The Board intends to hold the line on

Lett

er'

From Jeff Heselwood #

Is It Necessary For

Prices, and with a bit of luck - and a stronger greenback - we should come through the coming fiscal year in fine

President,

shape.

The Board of Governors also is taking a good look at the Club's longterm future. Our Iease for the building expires in 2007, and while that sounds like a long time from now, we need to ensure that, in the unlikely event we don't get the lease renewed, we have contingency pÌans,

and funds, to relocate. We have created a new committee that will look at all the various options including pushing our continuing efforts to persuade the government to give us a 20-year lease. That would be the ideal (well, unless we could get the government to sell us the building cheap!). lI you have any suggestions

about long-term planning,

5{.35

The

In Her Monthly Missive In the Club's Magazine, To Constantly Employ Capital Letters? May Be The Sryle Of Voice Of America But It is Not The Accepted Format In This Part Of The World, Nor Othel Developed Countries. I thought we were a joumalists' club ... -- The President ìs not guilty. It's house style to capitalise references to the Club and its mosl impoflant elements. The exception is "beer" which is always lower case.

and private guards in the field. Luke Hunt interviews',a former Centurion

Advertise in

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The Correspondent

Tony

Nedderman and C.P. Ho are on the new committee and will be happy for

and reach Hong Kong's mosl

discerning readers.

suggestions.

A final note - welcome back

Contact Sandra Pang for

Mike Gonzalez. Mike has filled Tom Crampton's slot on the Board. Mike,

details.

known is some circles as Gonzo, is on

his third stint in Hong Kong and served on the Board in the 1990s. He is here now as head of the Asian Wall Street Joulnal's editorial page.

Debate within the media has focused on the merits of security training

Sandra can be reached at

TeI:2540 6872 fax: 2116 0189 Mobile: 9077 700I E-mail advertising@fcchk.org

"One day I was one of the casualties in a road traffic accident," says Paul Burton. a soft-spoken Briton and former soklier rvho has trained many journalists in the skills needed to nliniurise risk rvhen covering dangerous stories. That accident occun'ed when Burton, then working for U.K.baserl Centurion Risk Assessment Services, was preparing a gloup of joumalists for combat. "My head Narhan l)exter. ryas in the foot-lvell of the car with my legs stuck on the seat. I had one broken leg with artelial bleeding among other injuries. A journalist opened the door. The inside ofthe car rvas dripping with blood, so she knew there was a major injury inside. "As she opened the door, she Ìooked inside rvith horror! Mouth open, a jet of lllood spurted from my leg straight into her

THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

because people expect to be able to see what's going on from the safety oftheir living rooms in the safety of a non-hostile country, as events

unfold.

There are more

I'I-IU (IORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

hostile

environments now than ever, and joumalists are spread around the world

to cover these

areas, which makes them more vulnerable 1o gelting

injured. In Iraq, for example, dozens of

international and local journalists, translators have died or been injured

since the U.S.-led invasion

wolld of ever-increasing threats," he says. 'olhe course gives thent some knowledge of how to avoid dangers in a hostile envrtoument so they can report the news hopefully without 2OO4

at the end ofthe day,"

The general public needs to be informed about what's

Paul Burton.

philosophy.

Helping ¡,ou begin li{"'s next chapte.

rh"y'." still alive

photographers, cameramen, fixers and

of the Falklands War, Northem Ireland and peacekeeping duties in C1prus, Burton has a simple if effective teaching "Ultimately," he says, "It's about how to stay alive in

happening in the world and joumalists are the ones who do this. Their lives, he said, are being put more and more in danger

nrouth and she froze on the spot, absolutely couldn't move a millimetre." It was a staged event but the journalist

didn't rnanage to snap out ofher shock. Burton squirted "blood" into her mouth four times before someone else pushed her aside and dealt with his mock injuries correctly. Centurions have trained mole tha'n 8,000 joumalists and aid rvorkers since 1995 and business has boomed since President George W. Bush declared War'on Terror in the wake of the September lI attacks on New York and.Washingon in 2001. A former Green Beret, retired sergeant major and a veteran

Contact Crown Relocations er 2636-8388 or visi¡ our websire: www.c¡ownreto.com.

getting injured, .rrd he said.

was

launched in March 2003. In January, two Iraqi CNN staffers, producer Duraid Isa Mohammed and driver Yasser Khata-b, joined the roll of killed in action. Cameraman Scott McWhinnie, who was travelling with correspondent Michael Holmes, was grazed on the head by a

bullet. 'oThey were clearly

trying to take us out. There is no doubt

in my mind that if our security adviser had not retumed fire, everyone in our vehicle would have been killed," Holmes reported shortly after the attack. Burton observed that journalists

in the field often feel restricted by having security guards around when t}ey're attempting to work. But at the end of the day: "We are hired to keep them alive."

"Sometimes that means advising them

to avoid places

they'd like to go to get what they consider an important story. It seems to me, though, that no story is worth your life." He is adamant that journalists should not carry guns. "Once you carry a gun, you've chosen a side. In Iraq, one of the Centurion guys who'd been there for several months had to carry a firearm because of the increasingly tenuous situation,

wa a veteran with 20-plus years but he

course contains a journalist with attitude, and often they are experienced war coïrespondents. They have war-zone reporting experience under their belts and at the beginning of the week that attitude can rub off on the rest of the class. "However, come the end of the course' and our feedback

reflects a very high standard of teaching and learning and those who do

definition is lost at a distance. ::ït,å"îTi a Journalists, too, are often targets themselves. :fJ::l:t*'n" group of high-profile

expenence as a sniper and was in charge of

COIOUf and

Burton

joumalists.' Unintentional gestures and mistakes can also be fatal in a hostile environment.

"One joumalist was killed

in Iraq because he put a

television camera on his shoulder and it looked like a shoulder launch weapon -- ground to sky or ground to ground," Burton said.

Colour and definition is lost at a distance. Journalists, too, are often targets themselves.

Other problems become obvious in the course, such as "fashion joumalists" and reporters who have never left their home country but have developed a taste for combat. '"They know nothing of cultures, weapons, civil disturbances, kidnapping, first aid, mines, and literally after the course they could be going into a hostile environment," Burton says. But the worst teaching experience often begins when the

stresses the Centurion courses are about imparting experlise, not simulating boot camp. "Most of the instructors have more

than two decades of experience

in the military/commando

forces and there's no need for us to come over in a macho way," he said.

It's meant to be enjoyable and instructive. The instructors also learn from journalists as well, such as those who have developed expertise about certain parts of the world from long exposure. "We retain knowledge from these joumalists and pass that on to others, as well." Burton now lives in semi-retirement in Cambodia with his parlner, joumalist Rachel Snyder, but remains in touch with the Centurion network for future contract work. Luke Hunt has covered conflicts in Äfghanistan, Kashmir, Sri Lanka and Iraq for AFP. He is currently on a l2-month sabbatical.

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against North Vietnam.

Nevertheless, Hanoi permitted Ky to retum from the U.S' after almost 30 years to visit his ancestral home during the

atn to 6pm or

by appointrnent at other tirnes

THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

Vietnam's ruling to discrimination an end y€ar for communists called last By their history"' personal against those with an "unsavoury as more regarded they whom reckoning, there are few vice forrner Ky, the exiled Cao unsavoury than Nguyen his air force led personally who president of South Vietnam,

2O04 Tet, the Vietnamese lunar festival coinciding with Chinese New Year, and ushering in the Year of the Monkey. Vietnam's leaders were counting on Ky to influence many in 2OO4

IHE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

The previous day,

our Vietnamese

staffer,

Pham Ngoc Dinh, that the VC might attack that night. Bt at2.20 a.m., everything

Some

agreed

that Hanoi's decision to allow

was quiet as

reached the

between the presidential palace and the American

for

this correspondent, Tet lecalled a different [urning poinl in

embassy, each a few

Vietnam.

hundred

Offensive

Not for long. I was awakened at 3 a.m. by loud

The Vietcong's Tet

January,

another Year- of the

still

Flinging on

remember driving

through

rushir,g

to drop off my Australian

office

the

nts

embassy.

all, I heard voices

upcountry where

in the

the offensive had

street

outside.

already begun. Bruce Pigott,

Australian, reported bombs hitting Hue's ancient palace, eunuchs'

quarters. John Maclennan, tough South African, told of

Communist

diversion at Khe Sanh, designed to draw in U.S. forces. He ca-lled us on a military handset he found in the dust.

It really wasn't smart

to be driving in the small hours back to my own flat above the Reuters office I occupied

chief. In previous days, we had remarked on as bureau

hostile stares and being

' ;Mii?e

'ill

hands,

matches heĂ&#x152;d by the operator the first dispatch. "Central Saigon under Vietcong attack." The operator transmitted it immediately. Reuters had 24-hour communications, and the news flashed around the world in minutes.

My brother Richard was watching television in Scotland when the newsreader, quoting me by name, said word had just come in from Saigon that the Vietcong were mounting a massive offensive. "I thought you were doomed," he told me later. What I didn't know until after the 1975 fall of Saigon that our operator was a Vietcong captain. Two other media offices

the

unwittingly employed VC agents, most famously Time

told

the

magazine's Pham Xuan An, now a retired general.

Vietnamese teletype operator, trying to conceal my alarm. I had visions of the Vietcong bursting in

and

it was only wooden. Trying to control my shaking scrawled on teletype paper by the flickering light of

forgetting

"Douse lights,"

another

door.

Then, scariest of

stationed

huge

past her

palace snapped past the window. There were blasts from

two

the

American Jeep raced

the

for hours with our

ancl

Tracers aimed at

Lunn. We had talked by phone

including the

found no vehicles on

some

downstairs, I made for the

colleague Hugh

go airport to upcountry, having

the stleet. Near the embassy, she heard shooting, and an

clothes

Saigon's silent, fetid streets

sp on d

yards

explosions.

Monkey.

corre

had come on the scene while walking to the

away.

of 1968,

would be working the phones in his office, not scooping us too much, I hoped. Kate Webb, then of UPI, was also there. She

office, strategically sited

watershed.

But

spotted Peter Arnett,

our Pulitzer prizewinning competitor from AP, and I knew AP's George Esper

had leceived a warning via

saw himseH indispensable to

Ky to visit marked

Vietcong on the ropes? Across the road, I

know the VC were using Tet to infiltrate Saigon.

"stupid rulers". He clearly

Vietnam watchers

telling us they had the

act this way. We didn't

South Vietnam

Vietnam's future.

Vietnamese nomally didn't

small matter but odd,

investment and know-how. Still showing his old arrogance, the 73-year-old Ky labelled his late fellow

leaders

hadn't the US Command just been

jostled on crowded streets, a

the 2.7 million Vietnamese diaspora to bring in

shooting

us.

Fortunately, the operator was a phlegmatic, steady

type. The telephone rang in the darkness and I spoke to Barry Zorthian, the chief U.S. information officer. He asked what I knew, and then told me the VC were hitting towns throughout South Vietnam. With explosions continuing, I crawled under the staircase, THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

I had suspected nothing, although our man always volunteered for the unpopular graveyard shift. When not busy he would stand at the roadside, sometimes speaking with passing motor cyclists. I didn't think this was unusual. What, I wondered later, did hq pass on to his jungle colleagues? Our sometirtres turgid rlaily stories from the Five O'Clock Follies? Eye-witness accdunts from the boondocks about matters the VC knew tetter than us? Our "unsavoury personal histories"? Well, we dĂŹd know some cute Vietnamese girls - after all, we were all single then, and young. Apart from Donald Wise, of course, the veteran Daily Mirror correspondent and late Hong Kong FCC member, whose World War II experience as a paratoop officer and POW of the Japanese served us all well.

Dawn found me behind the French consulate wall, watching in disbelief another scene from Vietnam's theatre of the absurd -- American military police in body armour attacking the Vietcong-held embassy compound. Hang on, THE, CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

before

screeching to a stop. most of the day reporter there, and I spent was the first "I racing back and forwards to the office - these were premobile phone days," she said. "At first, the UPI staff were incredulous, and I had a bit of a time trying to convince them."

Compared with AP and UPI, we at Reuters were outnumbered, yet there was plenty of news to go around. In Saigon and in the field, it was always good to see our counterpads. In Vietnam, we were a band of brothers and, not forgetting the stout-hearted correspondents such as Kate Webb and Denby Fawcett, sisters, too. Lunn got to the office after dodging fire-fights, then went to the embassy. As he closed our wire grenade-shield, he recalls me saying, "Qh, and be careful ofthat sniper across the road." I drove with Dinh to Cholon, Saigon's Chinese sister city, where we got in a scrape, and where in a nearby street Saigon's

police chief summarily executed a VC, a scene snapped by AP's Eddie Adams, one of the three great pictules of the war, along with the Hugh Van Es' 1975 helicopter evacuation shot, and Nick Ut's scene of the napalmed girl in Tay Ninh which continue to grace the walls ofthe FCC today. Ray Wilkinson, a marine sergeant, was in Saigon to an'ange local discharge to join UPI. He slept at the Majestic through a the gunfire, then strolled down deserted Tu Do thinking "this is a very quiet place," until a UPI reporter asked what he

thought he was doing. "Just window shopping," replied the innocent marine. "Well, get your butt out of here," he was told. "The Vietcong are taking over Saigon." Wilkinson started writing nightleads in the UPI office

where Bert Okuley for yeals was the brilliant desk man earlier than he expected, and was almost charged with being AWOL when he returrred to base.

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-g From Ben Tre, Arnett later reported on the town the Americans "had to destroy in order to save." From Hue, UPI's Al Webb produced graphic stories on the siege of the citadel, before being wounded. Maclennan's repofi on

its

final

storming played around the world. UPI's Tom Corpora flew into

Ban Me Thuot under fire, and was repofied missing by colleague Bob Kaylor, but happily tumed up safely. Days later, except in Hue, the VC were driven back with heavy casualties. The "general uprising" predicted by Hanoi didn't come about. Yet Tet tumed American public opinion squarely against the war. President'Lyndon Johnson did not seek re-election. Pigott, after covering hie war sector including besieged Khe Sanh, walked into the office a weet later and, with typical Australian humour, innoce氓tly asked: "Anything been happening while I was

"Now Available at FCC, Bookstores and Online".

gone?" '

VC. This kind of behaviour

Killing Fields, the Hanoi Hilton, My Lai's horror,

After Lunn completed his tour, he was replaced by Ron Laramy, a quiet-spoken Englishman. I left fol home in April. In May, the guerrillas attacked again. Pigott and Laramy were among four correspondents killed by Vietcong in Cholon. Pigott was just 23. Dinh risked his life going into the VC-controlled area to identify the bodies. Pigott and Laramy are commemorated at St. Bride's, the journalists' church in Fleet Street. The following day a gun-toting American photographer was THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

killed while shooting at

jeopardised all of us. It meant we could hardly be considered non-combatants. One American correspondent earlier bragged he had shot "two or three" VC from a helicopter. When he repeated this at his home office, a colleague queried: "Women and children, I presume?" Writing thi,q in yi"rr,u-, it's hard now to see what the point of this unnecessary war was. After the liberation of France from the Nazis, the Allies let Paris re-colonise its Indochina possessions: there was to be no similar liberation for Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. After Dien Bien Phu, the Americans intervened; then followed napalm, Agent Orange, 8.52s, little Kim Phuc running down the road, millions killed and maimed, Communist massacres in Hue, Diem's assassination, the

2OO4

colleagues

dying. Ho Chi Minh was never anyone's puppet. He had struggled for independence since Versailles in 1919, but an independent Vietnam didn't count in the West. The domino theory did. Now the Year of the Monkey may begin to see the end of the last barriers dividing Vietnamese. James Pringle reported from Yietnam in 196贸-贸8 and 19?0-71. A

shortened version

of this article

was published

the

Intcrnation al H emld Trih une. 11

GOVer StOry

Rohert Delfs was invited to speak at a Memorial Mas s for Sandra arranged by Former Philippine President Corazon C. Aquino at the EDSA Shrine on March 5. The following is an extrac t frorn his eulogy. An obituary appears on page 28.

Sandra Burton was my companion and soul mate. She was my best friend. She saw me more clearly than anyone else. She was my harshest critic, my

'*t\

..t\,\,_^ v L,

!(,I

so help the rest ,of us compr-ehend the significance and meaning of the stories unfolding around us all, stories which

aÌe our- lives; stories which

strongest suppofier. We were pafiners. Sandy was my life. I had always known. since soon after we first met in Hong Kong more than22 years ago, that I could never have all Sandy's love. I could only share her with family, friends and colleagues all

ultimalely de[ine history.

This is not a fashionable view today, but as Sandra saw the quality of journalism deteriorating around her, she

fought all the harder

to maintain the standards of truth and accuracy in her profession - standards that she, in fact, exemplified. When Sandy and I met, she was Southeast Asian Bureau

over the world who knew and Ioved her, each in their own way.

Equally important, I knew from the beginning that loving Sandy meant accepting that I had to share Sandy with her work. And Sandy's commitment to her work was always primary. I knew this meant we would never have an ordinary family life together, and we did not. We had an

Chief for Time, and

was

writing about China for the Far

Eastern Economic Review. The only time we ever covered the same beat was over l9BB1990, when we were respeclive

Ì,::l

bureau chiefs for our publications in Beijing. The Time apaltment and the

extraordinary life together. We lived our life in Hong 'Kong,

Beijing, and most recentlyl in Bali. But there were times rùhen

Review apartments were in

we lived in different countries fbr extended periods, according to

diplomatic compound

the demands of our jobs at Time and the Far Eastern Economic

worked

adjoining buildings in

lesidential

in Beijing.

completely

independently, of course,

Review.

ñffi

except for the incredible days

Sandy believed that to be a journalist was a calling that camied immense responsibilities:

of May-June 1989, and we were together in Tiananmen Square on the auful night ofJune

to discover and tell the truth, to unravel the complexity of

events and uncover their logic and connections. To understand and make sense of it all and then to write it - and

But it was the Philippines where Sandy did what she believed was her best and most imporÌant work, chronicling

TFIE, CORRI,SPONDENT FìÌBRUARY/MARCH 2OO4

bringing about the end of the Marcos dictatorship and the re-establishment of true democracy in

this country. Although she welcomed that wonder{ul result when it came, she never sought any role in bringing it about. I do her only the highest respect by stating the simple truth - that Sandy was just doing her job, She did it very

well. Later, in her book, The Impossible Dream, Sandra sought to present a more comprehensive understanding of the background and deeper meaning of the historic changes here that she had witnessed and reporled as a journalist for Time. She delved into the historical roots of the h

Bali this past year. Sandy joined me in Bali last May, shortly after the death of her beloved sister, Stephanie, following a

the events following the tragic assassination of

Benigno

long illness.

Aquino in 1983 and the ensuing political struggle, a struggle

which culminated in the victory of the People Power Revolution. Sandy believed it was her responsibility to record that historic drama, to understand and explain its meaning and importance to readers all over the world.

In the course of trying to accomplish that mission, by virtue of her professionalism, resourcefulness, commitment, and hard work, she unexpectedly found she had become a part

of the story she was covering. Robin Moyer

Marcos era, inside and outside

the Philippines. She sought to understand the people involved and the history of their complex

We hoped Bali would be a place for her to recover and heal from that terrible loss, and I think it was. Sandy and I walked on the beach together almost every morning before breakfast. We watched cranes posed in frozen silhouettes in the shallows near the reef and saw fishermen handling their nets and lines. We felt the starting rhythms of the Balinese day as people roused themselves to go to work, or to worship. We ate our meals together every day, discussing - and sometimes arguing passionately, often late into the evening about everything under the sun. We swam in the lagoon near our house, and sometimes went scuba diving on vibrant reefs. There were dinner parties

inter-relationships. She undertook to uncover the backstage events that we had not

was, and

simply faiÌed to understand - in

- for her work had not ended when she left

she succeeded.

almost five ]ears

had

really

Robin Moyer

full+ime

happened here in the Philippines, what it meant, and why it was so important. And

audience what

Sandy believed this saga could serve as a vehicle to explain

the manifold richness and complexity of Southeast Asia, its peoples and civilizations, from Luzon to the Spice Islands, from the days of the treasure ships of Ming China, the

I will be eternally grateful for the wonder{ul days we had together. But Sandy's intense commitment - her passion

journalism, nor was it dulled by the comforts of Bali. Almost every day, sometimes until deep into the night, Sandy worked on another book, which was to be a biography of James Brooke, an Englishman who in the mid-19th century became the Rajah of Sarawak. This was a project she began

order to explain to a larger world

"history".

with old friends and new, launched on rambutan and lime daiquiris. Never before in our lives had Sandy and I been able to spend as much time together as we did these past ten months. I believe she was happy in her work and in her life. I know I

known about at the time

intem-rpted by her need to spend time with and care for Stephanie. Her research spanned several continents, from the jungles of Borneo to the libraries of Oxford and London. The story of Rajah Brodlie is an amazing and colourful tale in itseH, peopled by' a gallery of the incredibly colourful characters Sandy'igved to learn about - Malay princes and Dayak tribesmen, British sailors and Chinese traders, rogues and pirates, d"chês'seå and sultans. But for Sandy, these were not the real attraction, nor was story of Rajah Brooke mere

ago,

though th,; work had often been

In the course of her work in

the Philippines, Sandy formed

Robin Moyer

As a jourrralist, and as a witness before the Agrava which, with her, I was the helped reveal the truth about the

Commission, Sandy and her tape

first person to hear assassination of Ninoy Aquino, a crucial step forward in 14

deep bonds oflifelong friendship with individuals from all walks of life, some with allegiances in different camps, people of every calling - from ordinary citizens to soldiers and journalists,

politicians, and teachers, judges, and more lhan distinguished President. But this was true everywhere

archipelagic empires of Srivajaya and the Majapahit, and the maritime trading state of Sulu, through the coming of Arab and European traders and empire builders with their technologies, religions, and ideas. Sandy saw the story of Rajah Brooke as a microcosm to look at the point where East and'West met in Southeast Asia,

one she

worked. Her friends literally span the globe. I would like to say a few words about our time together in THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

continued on page 28

THE CORRNSPONDENT FEBRUARY/I{,¿Ù{CH

2OO4

STILETTO

(stí-létó ) pl. sti.let.tos or ". sti.let.toes A small dagger with a slender, tapering blade. Something shaped like such as a dagger. A small, sharp-pointed instrument used

Morrilnr don't let

for making eyelet holes in needlework. fltalian, diminutive of stì-1o, dagger, from Latin s t i Iu s, stylus]

¡ lt's bon voyage to Karl Wilson who is ofÏ to Manila as Agence France-Presse Bureau Chief after a first-class stint as managing editor of The Standard. Karl looks set to join another refugee from the FCC. Peter Cordingley, the WHO's chief pontificator on pandemics, is safely ensconced in Forbes Park, the gated community where AFP also maintains a residence. . Given all the carry-on about weapons of mass destruction

o We are mourning the death in Papua New Guinea of journalist and documentary maker Mark Worth who has worked tirelessly for years chronicling the repression by the

in Iraq one would hope the Department of

Defense in

Insoraki. According to long time colleague Trevor

pr.rchase the latest ofiering, Agent

Chappell, Mark, who was borrr in PNG, was among the most focused professionals ever to cover the area around the

Washington

will be the first to

Orange, by renowned photojournalist

Philip Jones Griffiths.

Pitched in a simila¡ style to Vietnam Inc, the pictorial and text publication documents the obscene legacy left by the U.S. miìitary during the Viehram W'ar where defoliants became a euphemism for chemical destruction on a massive scale. It's a must buy and coincides with a re-release of the documentary Hearts and Minds, the Oscar winrring film from the 1970s that delves unflinchingly into the American social conscience. Hearts and Minds has been digitally re-mastered and was recently given a screening along with a few words from veteran wax correspondent

Jim Pringfe

at the FCC

in Bangkok.

More on WMD. Though the year is young and April I is still some time away, a front-runner for Story of the Year goes to The Times of Iondon for an article, penned by Anthony Browne, about the latest weapon of mass destruction: the skatebo ar d. "The skateboard," Browne reported, "has been propelled into the front line of the War on Terror." The European Commission has ordered them banned from aircraft cabins because they could be used in a hijack attempt. They will have to join lacrosse sticks, goH clubs, pool cues and fishing rods - but not tennis racquets or juggling clubs in the hold. "They have wheels that you could unscrew and use, and

you could use

it to break a window," the paper

quoted a

commission spokeswoman as saying. . While the 29th anniversary marking the end of the Vietnam War is approaching, life under the communist

dictatorship has not improved that much as dissident and joumalist Nguyen Vu Binh has found out. His trìal for espionage has landed him seven years in jail plus a firther three under house arrest. Why? Because he wrote stufffor the Intemet.

Indonesian military. According to Pacific Media Watch (PMY/) Mark died from unknown causes in a hotel room in Sentani, W'est Papua. He is survived by his Papuan wife Helen and baby daughter

troubled country. PMW said "his death must be treated as suspicious." . Wedding bells have sounded in Bangkok where Philip Blenkinsop has tied the knot with Ägres Dherbeys. One person, who obviously has to remain nameless, quipped recentþ at the FCC Thailand: "She can handle him. I've seen her get angry and toss him across the bar. Phil resembled a surface-to-air missile darting for the target of her choice. Hiya! " o In Melbourne, Lindsay Murdoch, The Age's elder statesman of East Asian coverage, has become a father. His

wife Feni recentþ gave birth to Emily Tiara. Lindsay has reportedly gone a little goo goo, gah gah.

Spare a thought for Phnom Penh-based Martin Flitrnan. The Brit is well regarded as among the best portrait photographers in the region, a civilised gent and an accomplished herbalist. But sometimes lady luck doesn't smile and Flitman lost almost a decade's work when his negatives went up in a house fire. o And finally, some sound advice for those illustrious editorial managers always eager to save some cash from whingeing over-paid and never-satisfied journalists. You'll be thrilled to hear The Goat Farmer, the largest circulating goat magazine in the world, published out of New Zealand, has adopted a fresh approach which I'm sure many accountants in East Asia will find revolulionary. The magazine, which is seeking a correspondent in Bangladesh, is generously offering "a hee subscription and advertising." Perhaps the concept ofbeing paid could become a thing of the past. Contact Max: maxkolbefcc@yahoo.co.uk THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

newsflen

My three of a kind should have won the hand - and would have if Al had not been so observant. "Tony," he said, "your

me, a hazardous drive home to Repulse Bay. Club bills were high and morale was low for many of us who

straight takes the pot, man." The pocket-sized ABC News cameraman, Tony Hirashiki, raked the pot of about HK$600 over to the messy collection of

had spent years experiencing the adrenaline rush of covering the Indochina wars. Nobody in New York wanted to hear from, or about, Asia and they certainly did not want to spend another dollar covering the region. Udo Nesh, Al Chambers, Tony Hirashiki, Mr Choi, Barry Kalb, T.H. Lee, Jack Worth, Steve Bell, Jean Claud Maillet, Larry Lau and others won and lost fortunes at the poker table. But rarely did cash change hands. Each loser would write an IOU and the small pieces of paper became legal tender, even for those who did not play poker. As the months oozed by, the initial depression matured into

chips he had in front of him. Our host, NBC producer AÌ Chambers, shook his head in disgust. A couple of hundred

of Saigon, every network staffers. s would arrive at their respective bureaus in Ne* Mercury House (now Telecom House) punctually at nine in the moming. Each producer would telex regional story suggestions to his headquarters in New York. Each story suggestion would be rejected by I 1 o'clock at which point everyone would race to the NBC bureau to get one of the seven places at the conference table for the daily poker 8ame.

We would play until about I pm, repair to the FCC for a three-hour lunch, retum to the poker game until 5:30 pm, then it was back to the FCC for drinks, dinner, more drinks and, for THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

a morbid, listless paralysis.

had spent most of the years

between 1964 and 1975 either in Indochina, as a cameraman, or producing stories about the conflict from Hong Kong and Bangkok. The war was more than a major story. Mike Her:r, in his great book Dispatches, said: "Vietnam was what we had instead ofhappy childhoods." And now that was gone, too. Ernest Hemingway in A Moveable Feast wrote of the feeling of emptiness that followed when he quit his horse-racing addiction. "By then I knew that everything good and bad left

it stopped. But if it was bad, the emptiness filled up by itself. ff it was good you could only fill it up by an emptiness when

finding something better." I won't say that FCC politics was my "something better" but it was rough and tumble enough to at least take the edge off

of the

emptiness. Since most of my waking hours, and income, were spent at the Club it was easy for me to be an on-site, if not

always sober, President. The revenue gained from

our hard drinking eating made

and

it possible for

for the San Francisco office were cancelled. When CBS asked me if I wanted to go to Dallas, Texas, I said no. When they told me that the alternative was Chicago, I changed my mind. Dallas it was. My Egyptian-born, Hong Kong-educated British wife, Michele, my two "American" kids and I left our elegant Paris flat for a two-storey suburban house, 30 miles east of Dallas. The jolt of transfeming from the foreign staff to domestic production was more severe than goirrg from being a "war correspondent" to full-time poker player. In a foreign bureau, the producer is actively involved in stories. A producer can shoot and write as well as edit scripts and videotape. In short, a producer is ajournalist. But in the domestic bureau, with the pervasive union mentality, a producer was not permitted to touch a camera or tape deck and any suggestions made to a cameraman or editor were usually vigorously rejected. I had become a clerk responsible for booking

flights, hotels, rental cars and satellite feeds. I realised that at the end of a working day I had contributed nothing of "me" to the story that was being broadcasl on the evening news. I left my staff producer job to become a freelance cameraman for CBS News. Almost all my assignments were overseas and most involved me

shooting people shooting each other. But this

77), a financially healthy institution. The fact remained, howwer, that even bareknuckle FCC political brawls were not enough to compensate for wallowing in a professional black

freelancing stint gave the opportunity to become reacquainted with my first love - horses. Two months in Beimt, for example, generated income sufficient to enable me to spend the remaining 10 months of the year training horses and being a

hole. But eventually my relentless campaign for a

cowboy,

me to hand to my successor, Bert Okuley (President froml976-

productive assignment finally paid off with a posting to Paris as CBS News bureau chief. A{ter six challenging but wonderfül years of covering Europe, French-speaking Africa and the Middle East, I asked CBS for a domestic assignment. I would have been happy to spend the rest of my days as an expatriate, but my wife and I both felt that our two children needed to go to the U.S. They had been conceived in Vietnam, bom in Hong Kong and spoke better French than

English.

knew the

time had come

retum "home" when my son, Warren, who claimed to be from

San Francisco,

was

arguing with a school

friend in Paris. His

friend had never lived in the United

The

jolt of transferuing from the foreign staff iírÏ:"Jr|t":y:; foreign TV work. Unfortunately the networks discovered that they could save a lot of money by not sending people from Vy'imberley, Texas, to cover foreign assignments. So I packed my saddle

to domestic production was more severe than going from being a "war coffespondent" to full-time poker player.

States, either, but claimed to be from Chicago.

"San Francisco has bigger buildings than Chicago," Warren insisted. "Does not!" his friend argued. "Chicago has one building that is more than one hundred étages." CBS News planned to open a bureau in San Francisco and I was slated to be the first San Francisco bureau chief. Unfortunately, this was at the critical era in network television news when the attitude of "spare no expense to get the story" changed to "no expenses available to get the story". The plans

had studied horses since I was old enough to obsewe anything, and I had begun working with them professionally when I was lhirteen. Horses are prey animals and horses are .Without horns, fangs, WMD or social highly social animals. commentators, they have not onh managed to survive, but thrive, for millennia. I moved to the Texas Hill Country and started my own ranch and horse training facility. For a number of years I managed to support

a video camera into our mini-van and headed for California. My family wouÌd follow as soon as I found work in

and

TV or on a ranch. After living in a tent for five months in the mountains north of Los Angeles, I finally started to get enough assignments from ABC News to enable me to rent a house with a swimming pool and spa in Ventura county. I settled into the lifestyle but not the steady diet of Michael Jackson stakeouts and mudslide coverage. THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

After afull year of covering the O.J. Simpson trial, I put down the camera and climbed back into the saddle once again. I took over management of the Verdant Equestrian Center in Los Angeles. The shock of going from working with Texas

horse people to with working Hollywood horse people was as great as going from foreign

domestic journaÌism. I grew to love the goofy horse

owners and

I to improve some of their goofy horses. We had a managed

reason, even though I hadn't eaten one since I was 10 years old, I felt the urge for a hot dog. So I got off the plane and queued up. A lovely lady standing next to me asked if we dare eat an airport hot dog. "Sure," I said, "let's live dangerously," and bought her one, too. She turned out to be

I knew that most of the cowboy show would be shot from horseback. So I took my new and unfamiliar camera to work with me each duy, practising from the tractor as I worked the fields.

same

flight to Washington. As we were waiting for our

luggage in DC, I discovered that we were staying in the same hotel and that she worked as a fund-raiser

for a cause close to my heart, a national non-

wonder{ul house on the stable grounds. Unfortunately, it didn't Iast. The owners sold up. So it was back to Texas. The owner of a high-dollar horse ranch in the Lone Star state had offered me what seemed an excellent opportunity. If I worked his horses, he would get the funding to start a video production company and we could make use of both of my professional skills. O{f I went. I settled my family up in a small east Texan town some 200 miles from the ranch, spending my weekdays with horses and weekends with the family. After a year of this, the investment in the video venture hadn't materialised and my second marriage was on the rocks. So I packed my saddles again and returned to Wimberley, Texas. After a few years of construction work, horse training, cabinet making, ranch work and so on, I found ajob managing a cattle and deer ranch in the Wimberley valley. The job paid a decent salary and provided a rent-free house. I told the owners that there might be times when I would break off to do the odd television project but I would ensure that my essential ranch projects were completed first. In September, 2002 ¡he producer of the ABC News show, Nightline, asked me if I wanted to make a show on cowboys. I

jumped at the opportunity. In record time,

profit organisation der¡oted to saving farm and ranch land. We shared a cab to the hotel. Today, she shares my name, our house and my love for our dog, Libby. As for me, I'm now breaking a couple of horses, working on

various ranches (for US$fi5O an hour) and I'm loving life as never before. TV newsbudgetsran get slashed, economies can falter, invasions'' dan happen, standards of journalism can

slump - but for me, and others at this link of the food chain, we're unscathed.' " " Occasionally, I wipe the dust off of my digital camera and put it back on the shelf. I am using my high-powered computer

to rvrite this from a tin shed next to our rented house in Wimberley, Texas. Please drop by to see us if you are in this neck of the woods,

EnrreST MAUDE Øâ..o7r52

/on

ì.r

of a job and home. My flight to Washington stopped over in Atlanta. For some 2OO4

/e//ez ftz/t z.e

MORTGACES & RE-MORTCAGES (from)

ploughed and

editing system. I knew that most of the cowboy show would be shot from horseback. So I took my new and unfamiliar camera to work with me each day, practising from the tractor as I worked the fields. By the time I ha! finished ciltivating and seeding, I could hold the camera to my eyd with my right hand and operate the tractor controls ¡with my left. As an expert onehanded cameraman, I drove to New Mexico to fiÌm the cowboy show, shooting on three traditional cattle ranches. Then it was back to the Texas ranch for a few last minute chores before heading to Washington with my tapes to write and edit the show. Unfortunately, on the eve of my departure, the ranch owners announced they werè in financial trouble and were going to have to sell the livestock and put my house up for rent in order to keep their ranch. Once again I was out

UK PROPERTY

planted the fields for winter crops. Since I had a good income and free house, I decided to put the Nightline fee into camera equipment. I bought a digital camera, high-end computer and

THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/\4ARCH

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Which led to a range of jobs and assignments in various parts of the world.

There was a stint working with disgraced Pollypeck tycoon Asil Nadir on his English-language newspaper in Turkish Cyprus, assignments covering the plight of Romanian orphans and other human disasters in Europe, a period of mountain life with Peshmargar Kurdish guerilla fighters in Northern Iraq in the first Culf War and then a prolonged period in Africa, based in Zambia, which borders AngoÌa, Zaire, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Malawi. The photographs that were about to go on show reflect most of the above, but it is Africa to which Cray returns to again and again in conversalion.

"Africa really crystallised for me all the niggling doubts

I'd had about the truth, objectivity and honesty of western lJ

news reporting and photography.

realised that the cynical distortion of language

dangerous 'objective' reporting

Steve Cray, newly purchased tape-measure in hand, seems to be thoroughly enjoying the problem of squeezing around 70 photographs into a limited exhibition space. "This is one ofthe things I enjoy most about photography," he says. "It's simple, like processing films and printing or scanning pictures. It's tactile, definite, easy and satisfying." The reason Cray is saying this is by way ofcontrast. For the

past hour we've been talking about stuff that is far from easy: deconstructing news values, discussing the hidden agendas

that stalk the innocence of a journalist's objectivity,

the

morality of exhibiting photographs of people's misery and despair and the complex implications of the deceptively simple

sounding title of his exhibition, "Out of Context". Cray studied philosophy at University College London and

then Essex University before deciding on a career in journalism because, he says, he didn't fancy academia or teaching.

Interested in photography since his father showed him how to develop tiny box Brownie prints when he was a boy, he added that skill to words after award-winning Australian photographer Michael Silver - now with the Photonet agency in Melbourne - described him as "a natural" after helping print some of his early news photographs. Cray has been wandering the world with cameras since losing interest in provincial journalism in Britain nearly 15 years ago.

"I looked around the news room on the daily paper I was working on and knew I had to go. The comfortable lives of journalists whose main concern seemed to be the mortgage rate contrasted starkly with the international issues raised by the stories they processed and I just couldn't justify being there. It was like working in a meat factory without giving a toss about where the stuff you were working with came from." IHE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

the

of loaded phrases like

colÌateral damage, ethnic cleansing and the like - was only part of the story. "There was also the more fundamental problem of loaded news values, selective news . reporting and use of photographs. Anyone who has tried to get a 'good news story' out of Africa will tell yor¡ just how prèconceived western news editors' ideas are about what condtitutes a story at all about

continent'. t "It's even worse in Hong Kong. If you

'the dark

counted the

number of stories pubÌished here, you'd think Africa was an insignificant island somewhere populated mainly by dispossessed white farmers." Cray says the real eye-opener was the transition from reading western reports about issues sìrch as Aids to living

with people for whom it is a way of life. "I've known so many friends bravely struggling with Aids or malaria, poverty and against corruption, that in some way it is no longer 'news' to me. And that's the point," he says. THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/\4ARCH2OO4

"Africa is the 'other', the dreadfuÌ stuff that happens is 'news' apparently, because of our own ignorance, lack of imagination or need to bolster our own self-esteem. It goes to the heart of what is wrong with the western perception of news generally; you know, the 'big plane crash somewhere, no Brits killed' headline thing. It's superficial and disingenuous. Africa taught me that and a lot more. "Incidentally, if you want to see that other big 'news story', globalisation, in action, that's the place," Cray adds. "In simple terms, the African country I'm living in grows I can't find until I go home to my British supermarket. Why? Because the 'free' market has enabled a big foreign company to come in and buy it all." Which brings us back to the exhibition. a range of vegetables

Why put pictures gleaned from places like Iraq and a wall if Cr'ay does not merely want to reinforce the

Africa on

alleged prejudices and hidden agendas he criticises?

"How long have you got?" he asks wistfully before answering.

"I decided to retire from news after returning to the UK from Africa. I wanted to concentrate more on the fine ar1 side ofphotography, and in a way that's what I'm doing here, even though I carried on working with newspapers. "These pictures are 'out of context' because they are free of the newspaper, magazine or news agency constraints that, ironically, helped produce them. "What I like about these photos has nothing to do with news; it could be the composition with one, an expression with another or the simple humanity of a third," Cray says. "There's this one picture there I love. A man fleeing the horrors of Yugoslavia saw I was photographing and posed with dignity, holding the couple of bags that held his only remaining possessions. "That sums it up for me. It's not news, it's not a story, not 'Us and Them'. It's human. It's all of us."

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Eat your HeArts Out)

Letter frorn

Rugby

Fans c)

The Shanghai FCC is going from strength to strength following a recent membership drive that brought a lot of new people into the CIub. This has allowed the group to organise a more varied and regular series of events. Recent events have been wide-ranging including a talk from the UK literary agent Toby Eady on the success of China books on the international market. Eady represents, or has represented, such successful authors as Xinran (The Good Women of China), Jung Chang (Wild Swans), Hong Ying (Daughter of the

River) and Annie Wang (Lili). Andrew Field from the School of History at the University of New South Wales also visited and spoke

China's ongoing capital market reforms. A more contentious subject was tackled with a roundtable debate on the possible revaluation of the RMB with Andy Rothman, the chief China strategist with investment bank CLSA, and Anhur IGoeber, the Managing Editor of the China Economic Quarterþ, arguing that Beijing won't budge, while Hugh Peyman of ResearchW'orks nailed his colours firmly to the mast declaring his belief that China will revalue in the second quarter of 2004. With all the expected action on the stock market this year and a record number

of Mainland IPOs forthcoming, the Club also

heard

from

Rob Agnew of

Matrix

about

his

current into

Rugby World Ctp Final

The immigration officer at Sydney's Kingsford Smith international airport fixed me with one of those looks immigration officers are trained to give you when they want a confession that your main purpose in entering their country is to subvert its constitution. "'Who's going to win tomorrow night then?" he asked. The date was Friday, November 21, 2003. The event under discussion was the final of the Rugby World Cup between England and Australia, and the right answer to the guestion was all that stood between me and an intimate body search. "That's what I'm here to find out," I replied, carefully. "Good answer," he said. "You can come in." I breathed a sigh of deep relief. I had got away with my first attempt on Australian soil at pretending to be a rugby enthusiast.

Spike magazine editor Jon Marsh's reaction when I explained why I needed a deferred deadline on a piece for the magazine was typical - stunned disbelief mingled with a profound sense of injustice. 'oYou're going to the World Cup? And it's a freebie?" I was enjoying this. Tickets for the event were by this time changing hands for tens of thousands of dollars, and you could have gone through the 9n1ìre FCC ìnembership list with the utmost care without finding àn individual who deserved this much coveted opportunity leds than I did. When the big screens comd down in the Main Bar and the teams troop on to the field, I disappear into Bert's or go home. During the Sevens weekend I stay in Sai Kung and try to pretend it isn't happening. I have loathed the game since being compelled as a schoolboy to play it - badly - on wet English winter aftemoons. Running around a muddy field in shons in the driving rain struck me as an insane pursuit at the time, and I have never modified that view. So how did I find myseìf in Sydney masquerading as a mgby fan? Simple. Jacob's Creek, one ofthe event's major sponsors, is

comparrng

opinions. The coming few months

will

trip to the England-Australia

China's investment funds now

journalists

continue

to be busy with

scheduled events including a talk from the controversial Shanghai author Mian Mian (Candy), a preview of some of the Ìatest new media art in the city as well as

roundtable on the potentially destabilising effects on Shanghai's development of the current property market as well as the likely deveÌopments in the banking sector in China. Hong Kong FCC members are of course welcome to attend any of these events if they are in town and can get more details from Lisa Movius, the Club's Vice President of Information (lmovius@hotmail.com), or visit the Shanghai FCC web site at www.fccsh.org. THE CORRESPONDENT ¡'EBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

member Robin Lynam gets a free

pre- and postCommunist nightlife culture and delving into the substantive transformations and power struggles in the decades following Shanghai's decadent 1920's. For many members, of course, business is a major focus in Shanghai and the Club has organised a number of events in conjunction with local business research firm Access Asia. These have included a talk from Dr Stephen Green from London's Royal Institute of International Affairs at Chatham House who discussed the current state and possible developments on the Shanghai Stock Exchange as well as

sportsphobic

Services

including one with local to swap ideas and

Shanghai's

nightlife

The FCC's most

the state

and through ro 2010. The Club has also continued to organise regular mixers

research

THE CORRESPONDENT FEßRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

owned by the French drinks company Pemod Ricard, which also

owns Chivas Regal, and I do quite genuinely like whisky. A few weeks earlier, when the French national rugby team was not only odds-on to make the final but expected in some quarters to win, many of the senior executives in Pernod

Ricard's Paris head office had decided to attend. They made the journey down for the semi-final, in which France was knocked out, and a lot of urgent business back in Europe was suddenly remembered. They duly decamped for home leaving the Australian office with a lot of spare tickets and hotel reservations to dispose of. Brits work for Pernod-Ricard too, and the very amiable Martin Howey, who mns the operation in Hong Kong, was travelling down for the match. He was told at four days' notice that if he could find a journalist or customer who could drop everything for a weekend in Sydney he was welcome to bring him or her along. I had recently written a piece on Chivas Royal Salute, and my telephone number was the first to hand.

Had the match been taking place in, say, Brisbane, I would probably have declined, but I enjoy Sydney, and as the weekend also involved a visit to the Wyndham Estate winery, I reckoned

I could fake

a polite interest

in sport for a couple of days.

The pleasure of telling incredulous rugby fans around the Main Bar and at Steamers in Sai Kung what my weekend plans were almost justified the trip in itself. But I was wamed by a few Aussies that while in Sydney I should expect to encounter a ceftain amount of Pom bashing - the other national spofi. So it proved, but the two sides were as evenly matched off the field as on. England had invaded Sydney, complete with Union Jack face paint, and the strains of "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" were so often to be heard that I suspect the Aussies were haH sung into submission. Fans on both sides were nothing

if not voluble, and not in

teribly sober, but in the week-long run up to the big event the visiting team's supporters provided a wonder{ul illustration of the all

cases

difference between a rugby and a football crowd. There was no

a certain amount of street

violence,

English tend to think of Australians as losing poorly, if only it than us. If Australia won, would the visitors be subjected to boorish because they've had so much less practice at

triumphalism? We'll never know of course what the response would have been had Jonny Wilkinson not taken that sensational final kick, but the first response of the Australian supporter in front of me was to tum around and offer an eminently friendly handshake. Nearby supporters of both sides were dancing with each other in sheer delight, and that was the way it was all over Sydney, well into the night and during the hangover recovery period the

following day. Anybody in England supporter's attire was warmly congratulated at regular intervals. Total strangers in

bars proffered drinks. It was, in short, the spirit of sportsmanship at its absolute best. If it had been a less close run thing

might have been different. As

Even if you are not a sports fan it is hard not to take sonre Ínterest when a garne Ís being played at this level

I suspect the response was both teams had clearly played the game of their lives, and everybody knew

atmosphere

of deeply serious but

nevertheless good-humoured rivaþ. The press and a few of the leading lights of Australian rugby had been a little more pointed in the run-up to the match. The

English team had been accused of being arrogant, boring, superannuated and a one-man squad. On the morning ofthe big

event, however, several commentators dared to write the unthinkable. Not only was it possibÌe that England would win it just might be that the team would deserve to.

"Is Jonny Wilkinson the anti-Christ?" inquired Steve Meacham in the Sydney Morning Herald. "He doesn't get thrown out of nightclubs, he doesn't pester women with pomographic phone messages, and he doesn't borrow his mum's diet pills. Apart from that he's quite a nice chap." I have to admit that by the time I, and a well-balanced group

of extra time it could easily

have gone the other way. Honour was satisfied all all,

somebody had to win. was, Sydney, in the magnanimous manner in which

As it it accepted the defeat, won a victory of its own. As soon as the game finished "A Hard Day's Night" came over the PA in apt acknowledgement of what all 82,957 of us knew. This was the finest moment in British team sport since the 1966 World Cup - the one with the round ball that is. The Wallabies and their suppofters were magnificently gracious, and ifJohn Howard - who had appropriated the honour of presenting the cup from the Govemer General and was clearly now wishing he hadn't - looked like the least happy man in the stadium, it onþ added to the fun. The next moming the Sydney Morning Hera-ld admitted "On behaH of all Australians" that most of the pre-match criticisms of the English leam had been unfounded and conceded that the

supporters' renditions of "Swing Low" had been better than

buyers, boarded the coach to the match, I had been quite drawn into the spirit of the thing. We had been for a Chardonnay-fuelled boat trip round Sydney Harbour that morning and I had the words to "Swing Low" pretty well memorised, it having been sung every

those of "'Waltzing MatiÌda".

time anlthing vaguely disparaging about Wilkinson, Martin Johnson or our lads in general had been said. Sydney demonstrated with the Olympic Games that it knows

today," exhorted a special supplement. The front page - it was of course the lead story - proclaimed that "This Cup Was Touched by Magic. Sydney, you've done it again: The greatest rugby final ever", and it may well have been. I am ill-qualified to judge, but those who know better tell me that if I never attend another rugby match in my life - and even after this very pleasurable experience I probably won't this was the one to have been at. Back at Kingsford Smith there were signs over the check-in counters congratulating England, and pointing out that in four years time Australia reckons it has a fair shot at turning the tables. This time as I presented my passport the officer struggled hard to suppress a grin. "Had a good weekend have you? she

of Australian Jacob's Creek staff and British wine

far better than most cities how to host a major sports event, and in the same stadium it proved the point again. Crowd control was efficient without being intrusive, and I found my place in the

stand

to the strains over the PA of one of Cold

ChiseÌ's

Australian anthems. National and civic pride was very much in the air.

It was a crowd worth being a par-t of. Even if you are not a sports fan it is hard not to take some interest when a game is being played at this level, but at the back of my

mind was a

Ìittle arxiety as to what the mood would be after the match. If England won, would certain sourness spoil the event? The

FCC member Dr Sue Jamieson interviews.Beverly Hills-based plastic snrgeon Dr George Semel

that with a few more minutes

round, and, after

sleeping, but little in

the way of public vomiting, and a general

Contemplatittg Cosmetic Surgery? Read this First

"We officially remove the 2lS-year-old chip(s) from our weary shoulders and encourage all Australians to be nice to any person of English persuasion they come into contact with for the

rest of the week....well at least until the close of business

SJ: Where did you get your medical training and experience, George?

GS: I went to medical school in Massachusetts before working in USC, University California lrvine, then the Mayo, before settling in California in 1970. I've had my present office

in Beverly Hills since 1991.

than oval. I do a fat transplant here: removing fat from a stable

lot of experience! What would you say was the

fat area such as the inner thigh or using fat removed from eye

most important part of your job? GS: The three cardinal rules of cosmetic surgery are safety; lack of pain; and improving appearance or adding glamour to

bags. The eyes then regain their youthful, sexy appearance. Fat transplants are also good to smooth out crow's feet round the eyes, nasolabial grooves and lips. They'll last "forever" unless

patients'lives. Choosing the right patient is very important.

they're done under local anesthetic, as the anaesthetic will

Surgery must be done on someone who both wants and needs it. Sometimes patients come to me asking for things that simply aren't a good idea, Iike hair transplants on a guy who's practically bald. I say "as Ìong as you have money you'll find someone to do this for you, but my advice is not to as it won't

destroy the process.

SJ: That's a

make you look better." Some people just need

hug,

reassurance and a good night's sleep, some I may not even be able to help. Look, l'm very conservative. SJ: Which medical changes in the past few years have made the biggest impact on your work?

GS: Firstly the new tiny incisions I make for facelifts are hidden in the earlobe where they are hard to find. No more scars in the hair make surgery safer and faster to recover from. Secondly the adhesives used during the surgery. Under anaesthetic with the patþnt sitting uþ, I pull the skin over the underlying tissue, then glue itìdownl lt's then possible to see the end appearance exactly as it'will look. No waiting, no leaving to chance as there's immediately an accurate, realistic look.

SJ: I saw one of your facelift patients one day post operation and was amazed that there was absolutely no bruising. The adhesives I've described stick the tissues to each other

so that there's no "dead space" for blood to collect, and therefore form a bruise. The role ofthe anaesthesiologist is also important: high oxygen to the tissues combined with low blood pressure, which means less bleeding and therefore less risk of damage to tissues and less post-operative pain (which can be

asked. Oh yes. THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

minimal in facial gurgery). SJ: Any other cgmments about facelifts? GS: You might,have noticed that many people, especially those who've had'¡iîevious plastic surgery, have a "hollow eyed" appèarance. Their eyes are deep set and round rather

THE CORRTSPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

Fat transplants are amazing, because the fat is full of stem a life of their own wherever they're transplanted. Patients are delighted, and I say to them, " t's not me, it's your fat and it worked better than I ever intended!" SJ: Liposuction seems easy and tempting. Comments? GS: The important thing is to remove all the fat. If any is left it will redistribute. As an example, if doing the front of the abdomen, do the back also, if doing the ankles, the caH area 'We've must also be reduced. "Liposculpting" doesn't work. found that using ultrasound in the canula (tube) doesn't help the result much and increases post-operative pain. SJ: What's the per{ect age for a facelift? GS: The perfect age is when you need one. There's no point in closing the door once the horse has boÌted, on the other hand I sometimes say to people, "You're 39 and you look fine!" Most women will need one by their late 50s. This is a time they're

cells that take on

beginning to feel vulnerable for all sorts of domestic and hormonal reasons, and it can really give them confidence and make them feel much better about themselves. Here in California I would say one third ofthe facelifts I do are no\{ on men for similar reasons. Sue tunbson ís founder of Dr Susn Jamieson & Associates and the Holistic lIeahh Care Practice,

Dr Senel is the authot of The Complete Idiot's to Cosmetic Surgery. See www.drsetnel.cotn for

Guide

tnore cletaíls

cover story

Sandra Burton.... ctcl from p15

unquenchable curiosity and a passion for the story. She lived her work.

one which could help explicate the

rernembered

intricate web of cultural, economic, ancl religious forces that bound this region together into a coherent whole, how the mutually transfolming flows of tmde,

tequila, and was the one who offer-ed her home and the

people and information linked

Along the way she a colleague's prediìeclion lor lTexican champagne to celebrate another friend's wedding. When the bitching got too

the

islands and peoples of Southeast Asia to the rest of the world ovel a per.iod of centuries, bringing epochal changes in both directions, East and West.

Obitu ary by Vaudine England

Sandy's ultimate aim was to use Brook's story to convey the central though often misunderstood and under-

recognised - importance of Southeast Asia in the wolld, in history, and also

today.

Before Sandy died on that Friday evening, she had been working on her book for the entire day. It is my hope

that her book can be posthumously completed and published in something like the form she was working to achieve. But that will be a huge, and perhaps impossible, task. For me, the pain of Sandra's passing

is all too real, and beyond any words. This loss is final, but there is another truth equally real. Sandy changed the world she passed through. She changed me. Now she is gone, but what she gave me, and us, is not. It is with us still. Sandy helped me fully understand the need to treat the impofant things of life with all the seriousness they deserve, but also not to waste precious

tirne on bits that don't matter.

She

taught me the importance of seeking to

attain the highest possible standards,

the necessity of discipline and hard wolk; and the need to pursue the truth, however hard, but also how to laugh and enjoy the beauty of each moment and

the joy of every day. Most of all, she helped me understand the importance of caring for the people in our lives

while we still can.

learned any

know

now,

have not

of these lessons well I never will. But

enough, and perhaps

because I had the privilege of knowing Sandy as I did, I recognise what I have to strive for. These are no small gifts.

For all of us who loved her, Sandy

will

continue to dwell

forever.

in our

heats

much at the bar, she'd be the one to remember a need for balance. She tolerated others' faults, perhaps too much, and only in recent years started to vent her passionate views on politics, people and the news. Sandy believed that being

.When

Sandra Burton died on February 27, in a Iragic accident at her home in Bali, the world lost one of its best journalists and most inspiring women.

lú

o. o

f'j Born 62 years ago Sandy, as she's known to friends, was only ever going to be a journalist. She joined Time magazine in 1964 as a secretary because Time didn't hire female reporters then. She started

a warm, generous and dignified human being. She may have argued with editors

in Los Angeles, became in 1973, Paris

stayed thoughtful, laughing and caring throughout. Many younger journalists trace back their own achievements to the

reporting

Boston bureau chief

correspondent ín 1977 and Hong Kong

bureau chief in 7982, covering Southeasl Asia lor lhe magazine. Along the way, she amassed friends,

colleagues, contacts and admirers around the world. These range from former presidents such as Corazon Aquino -- who held a special mass for

inspiration or sage advice so freely given by Sandy. She touched so many lives, and even altered the course of events on occasion. Time magazine recognised her as one of its greatest reporters,

veteran

of key

historical

moments and a hero to staff.

Sandra Burton became best known for her coverage of the Philippines. She was on the plane with opposition icon Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino when he flew back from exile to challenge dictator Ferdinand Marcos on August 21,1983. As the plane landed, she turned her tape recorder on, thereby recording the shots which killed Ninoy. This personal involvement did not alter Sandy's commitment to objective reporting. She had contacts across the board, was invited to events other hacks

house purification ceremony was held to "release her spirit" in the Balinese way,

it was led by a Muslim of

mixed

(including Jewish) blood, giving even the atheists present a glow.

Sandra Burton lives

on as

an example of what journalism is meant to be. And she stands out as an example of

because of a deadline. But though she worked in one of the most ego-ridden and brutally competitive trades, Sandy somehow

-- to

the beach with her. When the Hindu

or cancelled dinner

Sandy at Manila's famous EDSA shrine

assistants and fellow hacks with whom she has shared dramatic times. When the phone calÌs and tributes started pouring in, they came from ambassadors, professors and journalists from Iraq to Beijing to Jakarta. At her home in Bali, her house-staff and driver wept alongside friends who walked on

never heard of, and could call on generals or armed lhugs. priests or activists to be sure of hearing all sides.

Three years later, in February THE CORRT,SPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

1986, it was Sandy who got the first phone call at the Manila Hotel pool announcing that Generals Ramos and Enrile had crossed the street to fuel the original People Power revolution which

was to depose Marcos. Sandy had relaxed enough after meeting the Saturday deadline to reach the pool, but she was checking her notebooks as others quaffed beer. Within minutes she lealised the whole cover story of Time that week had to be redone, within hours.

Typically, her priority was to get^ a clear record of the factsr She hired a gofer to compile the "tick-Ìock'É or chronology. Then she hit tfre streets and the phone lines to make hèr story

Delfs and other colleagues, having

walked around the demonstrators to see the first armoured personnel carriers rumble in. She still had a deadline to

was old-school, meaning she had no time for the vapid celebrity cults of

meet that night but her addiction to seeing for herself what was happening almost endangered her life. "She was relentless as a repofier," said Barry Hillenbrand, a close friend of

Burton's and former correspondent at Time. "She was always going out after

Tiananmen Square in Beijing when the firing started. She was there with Roberl THE CORRISPONDENT FEBRUARY/N{ARCH

2OO4

the

She got ahead through sheer hard work,

journalist lives on.

talking to Sandy," he said.

her which are the story, not

journalist. Sandy was committed to the nuts and bolts of what happens in our world and why. If given the chance, she

being a witness to history in the making. Even in semi-retirement, she scoured newspâpers and the net daily.

another

insightful too. (Her subsequent book, Impossible Dream: The Marcoses, the

who had to be dragged out

modern hackery. Instead, she believed that it is the events and players around

could also answer the so-what. For Sandy there was no compromise. There is no excuse for not finding the other point of view. When editors, torn between deadlines and demands from the accountants, want to slash the uncomfortable bits, a journalist must fight for the story. While her friends already miss the walks and the good times, Sandy the

not just ahead of its time, but Aquinos, and the Unfinished Revolution is on sale at the FCC.) Three years after that, it was Sandy

journalist was a mission in itself. She

interview

people loved

Remarkable for her professionalism, generosity, poise and unerring inslinct for news, Sandy believed emphatically

gTooming

Garment makers tend to play it safe. Rather than test lhe piece of clothing once all the frills and extras have been added, it's easier to say dry-clean only." "And in America, they are particularly cautious," she says. "A simple silk blouse will often say dry-cÌean only but it can be water-washed. Just remember to iron it before it's absolutely

dry."

"Water is heavy," Elaine says. "That's what causes the It swells or shrinks many fibres and they don't snap back." One could, for example, safely water-wash a bolt of Savile Row-quality wool material. But once it's made into a suit, it's a different story. The linings may shrink in water. The stiffening may disintegrate. That's why suits are dry-cleaned. But if needs must, there are exceptions. Take the case of one client (and luckily for him), a friend of Elaine's. He picked up a nasty bug while travelling. It was so virulent that at one point he fainted and, not to dwell too much on the subject, severely polluted the seat of his trousers. "Some people would have stuffed the suit in a plastic bag and dumped it in at Goodwin's. Or rather, this being Hong Kong, would have got their maid to bring it in," Elaine says with a barely perceptible shudder. Instead, after telephoning for advice, his wife carefully washed the afflicted area in soap damage.

Bob Davis

Above all, DON'T dab. Avoid the temptation to rub. Scrubbing is a sin. You will damage the fabric of the silk, leaving an unsightly abrasion. A paper towel will exacerbate the problem. The fibres from the paper tend to disintegrate and merge with the silk fibres and you will get a lumpy abrasion.

Above all, get the garment to a quality dry-cleaner pronto

ensuring you tell your cleaner precisely what caused the stain. Elaine, founder of Goodwin's of London, has been on the

receiving end of disastrous clothing first-aid

all too

often.

There are a number of old wives' tales, she says. Ignore them. "For example, you cannot treat a red wine stain with white wine," she admonishes. "I don'l know where that one came from but it's a myth." How about soda water? That's supposed to be good for red wine stains, isn't it? "Don't self-remedy," says Elaine sternly. "You have to know your fabric or you can do more harm than good."

Silk, for example, is often "colour-loose", which means the colours bleed. So water, including soda water, is not a good idea especiaÌly if the silk is highly patterned. One mistake people often make is to over-clean and wash the colour out with the stain. The effect is rather like a photographic negative - the stain may have gone but it's left behind a light colour-free

Red wine tipped over your pristine silk blouse? A Bolognaise spot on your new Hermes tie? DON'T PANIC. There are remedies. The trick is not just to act fast, but to resist a number of very human impulses. They will only make the

problem worse.

Don't grab a tissue and reach for the water carafe. Beg, steal or borrow a good quality cotton napkin. Damask is ideal. Make sure it's white, not brightly coloured. Then sandwich the stained fabric between folds of the napkin and press. Blot the stain. Let the pure white cotton drink it up. Press the stain out, gently but firmly. Blot and blot again.

patch.

Cotton and polyester on the other hand are generally colour-fast. Test first, and if the colour holds, water can be used to dilute the stain on both fabrics -- but again, don't rub. Even relatively robust fabrics can bruise. The trick is to use enough water, and an absorbent blotting material, blotting and diluting over and over again until the stain has gone. Make sure you blot thoroughly, though, in order avoid a watermark. And DON'T over-clean. And when the label says dry-clean only, should you mindlessly obey? "'Well," says Elaine, "put it this way. THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

dry-cleaner can deal with it." And what makes a good dry-cleaner? One who has taken the time and effort to learn about fabrics, says Elaine. One who takes the trouble lo identify stains (don't be shy about 'fessing up, they've heard it all before) and can recognise the unusual. One who has invested in the array of equipment and skilÌs needed to deal with everything from naiÌ varnish to marine paint (and far,far worse). One who ensures that the chemicals in the machinery are always fresh. A cheap photo-developing shop that lets the soup get old produces muddy photos. An indifferent chef who fails to change the oil in the deep-fryer cooks musty food. A penny-

pinching dry-cleaner who recycles the chemicals too often, turns out grey and shabby clothing.

Cococabana lresco clinirtg in Mo Tat Wall

and water (avoiding the waistband and lining in order to avoid shrinkage) before bringing it in. Dry-cleaning took care of the rest of the problem, saving a US$1,000 hand-made suit. Dry-cleaning does suffer one disadvantage over soap and

water: It is less effective at deodorising. Otherwise, drycleaning (which is actually anything but dry) is better. The process, unlike water, doesn't cause a physical change to the majority of fibres and materials, Elaine explains. Rubberised materials and leather are exceptions. They react badly with the main dry-cleaning chemical, perchorethylene, in which garments are drenched in a piece of equipment that resembles an extremely large and high-tech washing machine. "Remember," wams Elaine, "no item is ever as lovely after cleaning as it is on the day it is first worn." But, that said, in addition to not letting a garment get too dirty before drycleaning, there are a number of very simple precautions that can make a huge difference to the life and appearance of any piece of clothing, whether it's a designer evening dress or casual polo shirt. If you wear per{ume or aftershave, put it on and let it dry

BEFORE you dress. Never spray or douse after dressing. Scents may be colourless liquids, bu( they can react with the fabric in the dry-cleaning'proc-ess, bleaching out or darkening the dyes and leaving unsightly splotthes and sprinkles. The same goes for antiperspirants and deodorants. Avoid the "arm-pit ring" (a chemical ieaction between perspiration, deodorant and dry-cleaning fluid) by Ìetting the application dry before getting dressed. "People generally use far too much. It's better to apply a thin film and always, always take a towel and wipe off any excess," she says. Talcum powder? "Not during the day," shudders Elaine. "It works its way into the fibres of clothing." NaiÌ varnish? "For goodness sake, ifyou do spill it on your clothes, don't try and clean it off with nail-varnish remover," says Elaine. "Get it to your dry-cleaner immediately. A good THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

Conrc to Nlo

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back ì\4cditcLrancar st)'lc ['ursinc an(l alnl0sphcrc. [:rrjoy 0ur c\otrc sr¡nsct cocktails alld balcotry dining sct itgititlst thc soÍi soun(l olu'tt\

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llaL Picantc 2tJ69-9ól

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310.00 280.00 800.00 3.00 13.50 250.00

THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/I\,ÍARCH

2OO4

U/orld Disorder: Political Dust Storrns? I ,.e¡

Corrosive Money &

G,.

de K¡asse/

Slick Oil The FCC has found its own Michael Moor.e, no not the one the World Trade Organisation for a half term, but

lvl.ro headed

that gadfly of American politics, the author of Stupid White Men.

His FCC equivalent, Peter de l(rassel, however, has the advantage of experience not limited to the border.s of the United States alone and l.ris targets'fol stupidity in Custom Maid go a little widel than white men alone. The result is a wide-ranging, Latty read: Hey, rvake up, the world is moving on and will leave you behind if you stay stuck in yesterday's way of thinking. The style is vintage Michael Moore right down to that folksy chat way of writing and digr-essions that catch the author's mind bqt leave you with the titter of a punch line as the r.eward for veer.ing aside. Most of all, it is vintage Main Bar FCC and de l(rassel gives his full due to the best place in Asia to find good informed conversation on topics more than golfing, sailing and

conversation to be found around any bar, as the title of this book in any case immediately tells you.

"Right, Peter, what's yours then? Shirley? And one for me too, yes, on rny bill. Okay, fill me in, Peter, I'm ready for a Iaugh. What's on your.mind tonight?"

Custom Maid for World Disorderr Political Dust

Stolms, Corrosive Monev & Slick Oil By Petel G. cle Krassel PB, 460 pp

ISBN988-97666-I-2 RRP HI($I55

cars while not ignoring that most essential topic of THE CORRESPONDENT FEßRUARVMARCH

2OO4

around the fcc

aaiz l\ight

FGG

by Wendy Richardson

t"'

The December quiz rvas cancelled because not enough people signed up. January, holvever, salv a forrnidable gathering of 14 teams. We par-rdered to

news to most members of the teaching

February Quiz with the death

denominational schools in Australia. During the History Round (rvhich consisted of the jingles from

Jerry suddenly on the Bth February. Knowing

Tim Cribb's request that the Listing

some extremely old

Quesiion be a shofi one. It rvas. Blought

forward from

the

Chlistmas-month

Quiz, it

asked contestants to name the 14 Stations of the Cross. Some of the

answers were,

to say the

leasl,

interesting. They were plobably also

oldels

TV ads - quoted not sung) one ditty went: "Doubles your pleasure". And no, those rvho

Beautiful Assistant (MBA)

that he would not have wanted me to cancel I weni ahead. U/ith f0 teams we

identified the product as "Dul-ex" were

wrong. The correct answer

cards.

was

had a fairly full loom and a good evening. I want to thank everybody for their kind lemarks, sympathy and

"Doublemint Gum". Unfortunately, events overtook the

Staff Party

For dates of fulure quizzes, Please contact the FCC office.

Chefs flom LaPiazzetra cook up a storm in the Main Dining Room. The event was an Italian

Food and Wine evening sponsored by La Piazzetla and the Viva Italia Supermarket

Lunch Speaker Wu'er

I(aixi, r-anked third on the most-wanted list after the Tiananmen Massacre of 1989

Dr Michael deGolyer of the Baptist U presents the latest finding of the Hong Kong Transition Project at a lunchtime seminar titlecl "Listening to the Masses" Lunch Speaker Abdo Alaskary, Consul Genelal of Saudi Arabia

Lunch Speaker Yokota Jun,

JaPans

Consul General

THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

2OO4

(]ORRESPONDENT FE,BRUARY/I\I,{RCH

2OO4

o ID

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THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

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THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/M,1,RCH

2OO4

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THE CORRESPONDENT FEBRUARY/MARCH

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v?nJrl C) in cJ r-J Jgence )

Jonathan Sharp Speaks to Chris Davis about Rhubarb and the "FCC

l\orth"

Ch ris

5i:rty ¿1rc¿tcl

¿¿¿

of rirr)e ¿u Paciiic. Pl¿tce

in tlrc'Àclo of rlort,¿ J'.ong

Liv'¿

Photograph by Mark Crabam

One day 17 years ago when he was working as a reporler in Plymouth, Chris spotted a huge picture in a travel agent's window of a city photographed at night. He did not know where it was, but

it was clearly an interestinglooking place

so he enquired how rnuch it would cost for two one-way tickets to fly there.

That city tulned out to be Hong l(ong. Six weeks later Chris and his wife had sold

their house in the UK

and

moved here.

On arrival, as Chris it, he literall¡'

Kong of Prince Andrew. Chlis not only got aboald the naval

Prince's ship, HMS EdinburgÌr, but into his cabir.r for arr exclusive that adolned the front page of the Sunday Milror. As a labour of love, Chris has done a lot of work for Anirnals

Asia Foundation run by Jill Robinson, travelling widelf in China to rescue bears from farms where they were reared for theil bile. Chr-is says the fannels did not consider theil rvolk as an act of cruelty. "Most of

describes

those people didn't think they were doing anything

dropped his bags and with a lriend went sllaight to a bar in Sai Kung run by a Mr. Churg.

wrong. They were basically

That bar, as many FCC membels know, is now coowned by Chris and called

government that was al opporlunity to produce this bile to be used in Chinese

told by the

Steamers, a watering hole that

Chinese

medicine. People thought

has been descr-ibed as the

they were protecting the rvilcl and providing this product that could help people."

"FCC North". Chris likes Sai Kung, not just lor lhe strong cornmunìty spirit and friendly neighbours -- with the exception of the

bear population

guy who sells him newspapers everyday, who apparently has never said a word to Chris in 17 years --

which explains the name given to his two-year'-old

there is also space. Chris is a gardener and glows, among

called Ocean, whiclr

other things, rhubarb

grandmother's name.

Chris's family on his mothers sitle are Romanies,

by his second marriage. The young lad¡ is

daughter

Chris's

and

beetroot, iffor no other reason

than they are expensive in

Man cannot live by rhubarb and beetroot alone, and Chris

has deplo¡'ed his non-agricultural skills on behaH of a wide variety of publications. One early br-eak, courtesy of Daily Mirror man Ian Markham-Smith, was covering the visit to Hong

itrye

...:,;,rrr,::

' ì¿t:e

Does being haH Roman¡' mean that Chris will be on

fear{ully

the supermarkets. For reasons that science has yet to fathom, rhubarb and beetroot do really well in Sai Kung. "I think it's the soil," opines Chris.

Rornaly

his travels again soon? He did at one stage make lead¡'

ot'

( 't

ì( |t

I I t-t(ìs,

lrle.aso ( ()rr{¿rc l us

,rt. icl íiì\)) ')?¡44 _ fì ì(r

to move to Chile, but then dropped the idea. He says he is norv

t'lìì,ì i | .

settled. "Hong I(ong has been good to me," he says. "I am proud to call it home." He adds: "One of the reasons I am staying here is I'ru detemined that the guy who sells me newspapels u'ill speak to

wel)..,iir'': wwey.1)iìr it"ir ,r( c.( r¡nl.lii< ¡lf

ri )iì I );ì

r.I

l-¡lcn t s(,.]sw ! l-r'1 r.( )l )r: i-{ i r,r.{'{

me one day." THE CORRESPONDEN'IFEBRUAR\7ìIIARCH

2004

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