The Correspondent, May - June 2007 by The Foreign Correspondents' Club, Hong Kong

CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

THE OFFICIAL PUBLICATION OF THE FOREIGN CORRESPONDENTS’ CLUB, HONG KONG

THE

Kate Webb 1943-2007

THE

CORRESPONDENT

contents

photograph: Terry Duckham / Asiapix

Cover Story Farewell to Kate Webb Jollies

Cultural Learnings in Almaty and Dubai

The 2007 FCC Jazz Festival Travel

14 Technology and News 15 Press statement

Travel Oasis Airlines by the numbers

Then & Now

The Peak

Hitch-hiking through Tibet

Media

Heritage

Jazz Festival

Books The Season of SARS Obituary

32 34

Fred Fredericks Out of Context

Angelo Paratico

The Forgotten Arch

Letters From the President Around the FCC Professional Contacts

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2 3 36 38

Letter

From Absent Member, David Thurston

THE FOREIGN CORRESPONDENTS’ CLUB, HONG KONG 2 Lower Albert Road, Central, Hong Kong Tel: (852) 2521 1511 Fax: (852) 2868 4092 E-mail: fcc@fcchk.org Website: www.fcchk.org President: Chris Slaughter First Vice President: Keith Bradsher Second Vice President: Kevin Egan Correspondent Member Governors Paul Bayfield, Kate Pound Dawson, Matthew Driskill, Ernst Herb, Tony Munroe, Andrew Stevens, Mark Zavadskiy, Tom Mitchell Journalist Member Governors Francis Moriarty, Jake van der Kamp Associate Member Governors Andy Chworowsky, David O’Rear, David Garcia, Steve Ushiyama Hon Secretary David O’Rear Hon Treasurer Steve Ushiyama Finance Committee Convener: Steve Ushiyama Professional Committee Convener: Keith Bradsher House/Food and Beverage Committee Convener: Andy Chworowsky Membership Committee Convener: Steve Ushiyama FCC Charity Committee Conveners: Dave Garcia, Andy Chworowsky Freedom of the Press Committee Convener: Francis Moriarty Constitution Committee Convener: Kevin Egan Wall Committee Convener: Chris Slaughter General Manager Gilbert Cheng

The Correspondent © The Foreign Correspondents’ Club, Hong Kong The Correspondent is published six times a year. Opinions expressed in the magazine are not necessarily those of the Club. Publications Committee Convener: Paul Bayfield Editor: Diane Stormont Editorial and Production Hongkongnow.com Ltd E-mail: fccmag@hongkongnow.com Printer Hop Sze Printing Company Ltd Advertising Enquiries Sandra Pang Pronto Communications Tel: 2540 6872 Fax: 2116 0189 Mobile: 9077 7001 E-mail: advertising@fcchk.org

It was, as always, a great pleasure to walk back into the Club recently and be greeted by the staff as if I had never left. Unfortunately, my timing, beyond my control, was not the best – the world’s greatest bar was closed for aircon renovation and one of my two days was Ching Ming, the other was Good Friday. Still, Bert’s was open and my schedule permitted a light lunch and a snack totalling $164. For this I had to buy two of the dreadful new debit cards – which quite clearly the bar staff hated. Cost: $400. I was told that I could not give the card to a friend to use up the balance and so I left with an unpleasant feeling of having been “done” by a Club in which I had spent so many hours and so many dollars. When I got home to the UK, a bill for $300 for The Correspondent was waiting. Great, all is not lost. So I e-mailed the office suggesting I write a cheque for $64 and they take the balance from the debit card which I put in the envelope ready to mail. Came the e-mail reply: “Greetings from FCC! We are sorry to inform you that the system does not allow split payment for membership fee. If you wish to settle the Magazine subscription fee by the debit card, there must be sufficient amount in the card in order to debit the total subscription fee. In addition, the debiting could only be conducted at the front desk with your presence. Please be reminded that for any recharge of debit card, a 10% administration charge will be collected.”

I heard a worrying rumour that associate members might soon be eligible to stand for President

It is one thing to see the Club thriving, thanks to the efforts of the plutocratic clique who seem now to be calling the shots as if the Club was their personal fiefdom, (I heard a worrying rumour that associate members might soon be eligible to stand for President). It is quite another that commercialism along the lines of the unbridled greed that is currently transforming China should obscure what the Club exists for. And as for daft, inflexible rules: well you can guess my feelings about them.

Contributions The Correspondent welcomes letters, articles, photographs and art-work (in softcopy form only, please – no faxes or printouts etc). We reserve the right to edit contributions chosen for publication. Anonymous letters will be rejected. For verification purposes only (and not for publication) please include your membership number (if applicable) and a daytime telephone number. Contributions can be e-mailed to fcc@hongkongnow.com. Disks should be dropped off at the Club or posted to the Foreign Correspondents’ Club, Hong Kong, 2 Lower Albert Road, Central, Hong Kong and marked to the attention of The Editor, The Correspondent. FTP is also available and is encouraged for large files. Please e-mail us for the settings. The deadline for the next issue is August 10, 2007.

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Club Activities xxxxx

> from the president S

o we have a new Board. It’s not like it was unexpected or anything; after all, that’s why we hold elections. But we did have quite a few contested positions, and quite a bit of contentiousness along the way. In the end, though, it has all worked out fine (touch wood) … the new Board has been installed, and is already hard at work. Please join me in welcoming your new Correspondent Governors: Tom Mitchell from the Financial Times, Tony Munroe from Reuters, Andrew Stevens from CNN, and Mark Zavadskiy from the Russian news agency Novosti. Also, a hearty welcome back to returning Associate Governor David O’Rear from the Hongkong General Chamber of Commerce, who was last elected to the Board (as a Correspondent Governor) in about 1999, if memory serves. Speaking of serving, David has also agreed to take on the responsibilities of Club Secretary, and as such, will be preparing the minutes of all Board meetings. The rest of your Board should be familiar from last year: Keith Bradsher of The New York Times has been elected in his own right as your First VicePresident (having taken over halfway through last year from Ramon Pedrosa-Lopez, who is reportedly enjoying his new life in Mexico), while barrister Kevin Egan reprises his role as your Second VicePresident for the umpteenth year in a row. Your other Correspondent Governors include freelance correspondent Paul Bayfield, the VOA’s Kate Dawson, Matt Driskill from the IHT, and Ernst Herb of the Swiss newspaper Finanz und Wirtschaft.

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Your Journalist Governors are also the same as last year, with RTHK’s Francis Moriarty and Jake van der Kamp of the SCMP returning to take their seats once again. As do three of your four Associate Governors … Andy Chworowsky from Fat Angelo’s, Asia Iron’s Dave Garcia, and Steve Ushiyama from Gotham Financial Ltd, who is also doubling up as Treasurer again this year. Steve has done a great job managing the Club’s finances in the past, and we look forward to his continued stewardship in the year to come. Some Committee Conveners have changed this time around, with Andy Chworowsky taking over as head of the House F&B Committee. At the same time, he will continue to run the Wine SubCommittee (look for interesting developments from that little conclave in coming weeks) and will co-chair the Charity Ball Committee with David Garcia. On a personal note, I will be taking over the Wall Committee, and will be working hard in the coming months to showcase as much of the work of member photographers as possible. To that end, I encourage those snappers in the Club who want to display their work to get in contact with me – I’ve already spoken to several of you, and will be reaching out to as many others as I can, to offer the wall on a firstcome, first-served basis. Credit (and thanks!) for organising Basil Pao’s extraordinary collection of China photographs must rightly be given to outgoing Convener and former President Ilaria Maria Sala, but I’m pleased that we’ve managed to start off with an amazing set of images that also helps

Club Activities

The 2007-08 Board. L-R: Herb, O’Rear, Dawson, Munroe, Driskill, Zavadskiy, outgoing member Rob Stewart, Slaughter, Egan, Bayfield, Van der Kamp, Chworowsky, Garcia. Absent: Moriarty, Stevens and Mitchell. Photo by Bob Davis. set the theme for the year ahead – namely, a year during which I hope will see much more of our members’ work on display. Back to the other Committees … several of the Conveners will carry on from last year, with Steve Ushiyama running both the Finance and Membership Committees, Paul Bayfield running Publications, Francis Moriarty continuing as head of the Press Freedom Committee and Kevin Egan once again applying his jurisprudential skills to the concerns of the Constitution Committee. Finally, Keith Bradsher will again be running the Professional Committee, a role which he tackled with diligence and great gusto last year. Already, we’ve got a fantastic selection of speakers lined up for the coming weeks, and many, many more in the pipeline for later in the year. We’ve had some excellent events in recent weeks, including the launch of veteran member Arthur Hacker’s latest book of illustrations, an update on the Beijing Olympics from the Executive Vice-President of the Beijing Organizing Committee Jiang Xiaoyu, and our long-delayed

Diplomatic Cocktail reception, featuring the Commissioner of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs Lu Xinhua as our guest of honour. These last two events, in particular, are significant; the Olympic event was the first time the FCC has hosted an event in conjunction with the Hong Kong Federation of Journalists, while the diplomatic function was the first time we have invited a mainland official to lead the proceedings. In the coming year, we look forward to increased cooperation with the Foreign Ministry in particular. While we must acknowledge that we don’t always exactly agree with the Foreign Ministry on everything, and are almost certainly going to continue to pester our friends there about gaining multiple-entry China visas for Hong Kong-based correspondents, we are nonetheless confident that our friendly relationship will continue to grow. Okay, time to wrap this up. On a final housekeeping note (imagine this next bit being read in my Most Serious Voice), we’ve begun tracking usage of the Club by Life Absent Members as they return to Hong

Kong. In most cases, this is purely a management tool to slice our Point of Sales data a bit more finely when we generate our sales reports; but the data captured also tells us how frequently our LAB members are returning. As most absent members should be aware, they are required by the M&A to inform the Club when they return to Hong Kong on a fulltime basis, and to resume their Membership by paying monthly subscription fees. What we fear has been happening for quite some time is that some LAB members have been taking advantage of a loophole to continue using the Club without paying subs even though they are actually full-time Hong Kong residents. Since that’s obviously not fair to our subscription-paying Membership, we’re working to close that loophole. In closing, please join me in welcoming your new Board of Governors. I think I speak for all of us in saying that we’re looking forward to another year of interesting developments in the FCC! Christopher Slaughter president@fcchk.org

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Travel

FCC Collection PUBLICATIONS A Magistrate’s Court in Nineteenth Century Hong Kong Asia’s Finest Hotels British Hong Kong - Fact and Fable Captain if Captured China Illustrated Cleaning House Custom Maid (English/Chinese) Expat Impossible Dreams Kyoto Journal John Doyle’s Overcoat / The Partisan’s Last Kiss Magic Cube Stretch your Life Sweat & the City The Finest Golf Courses of Asia & Australasia The Helena May The Ji Ji Chronicle The Little Red Writing Book The Poles Declaration - Bilingual Version The Quest of Noel Croucher

$198 $128 $150 $299 $395 $150 $155/100 $175 $150 $60 $200 $55 $158 $100 $425 $200 $46 $168 $170 $185

Gillian Bickley David Macfarlane Arthur Hacker Clare Hollingworth Arthur Hacker Barry Kalb Peter de Krassel Wendy McTavish Sandra Burton (Magazine) Peter Finn Pacific Century Tim Noonan & Chris Watts Hong Kong Writers’ Circle James Spence Esther Morris Wang Dawen Brandon Royal Rebecca Lee Vaudine England

Other International Golf Courses 2007 Hong Kong Old & New Card Box

Richard Caska Pacific Century

Calendar Postcards

$80 $98

CDs Allen Youngbloodlines Outside the Box

Allen Youngblood Allen Youngblood

Check out the wide range of FCC products

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Bowtie: $145

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Umbrella (golf - new) . . . . . . . . $165 Umbrella (golf - foldable). . . . . $120 New windbreaker. . . . . . . . . . . . $195 FCC lithograph print. . . . . . . . . $800 FCC postcard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $3 I Love HK postcard. . . . . . . . . $13.50

Photographer’s vest: $255 I Love HK poster . . . . . . . . . . . . . $250 FCC Video – NTSC. . . . . . . . . . . . $310 (Of all the Gin Joints)

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THE THE CORRESPONDENT CORRESPONDENT May/june may/june 2005 2007

Computer bag: $165

FCC Video – PAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . $280 (Of all the Gin Joints) Compact Mirror. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $65 FCC Metal Pen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $82

375

Kate during her IndoChina war reporting days.

Cover Story

No Regrets Kate Webb has died, 36 years after reading her death notices in the press.

Kate Webb 1943-2007

Kate, reporting for United Press International in 1971, was caught in a battle in Cambodia’s Kirirom Mountains and taken prisoner by a North Vietnamese Army unit. This turned out to be a lucky break because the usual enemy were the Cambodian Khmer Rouge, who killed their prisoners. She and five others were marched through the jungle in a 23-day ordeal during which she was reported killed, earning a front-page obituary in The New York Times. Kate stumbled out of the jungle 23 days later, 10 kilograms lighter and racked with malaria just as her family held a memorial service for her in Sydney. The body of a young woman, found near the spot where she vanished during a firefight, had been wrongly identified as hers. “It caused a bit of a stir at home,” Kate recalled a few years ago, her trademark beer and cigarette firmly in hand. The Times headline, “A masked toughness”, applied to the end. Kate, who spoke in a whisper and eschewed self-promotion, was loved and feared a little by colleagues for her fury at anyone who refused to face the facts. In her time, Kate, who died of cancer on May 13 aged 64, covered many of Asia’s seminal events. Her legend was minted in Vietnam, where she was one of only a few women to cover the war full-time and where her courage and reputation as a stickler for the facts earned her the unwavering respect of colleagues. “Kate Webb was one of the earliest – and best – women correspondents of the Vietnam war,” said Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Peter Arnett. “She was fearless as an action reporter, with a talent for the vivid phrase.” Kate’s knack for being in hotspots at the right time, a fearsome wrath and her colourful bar-room antics became the stuff of folklore among fellow Asia hands who made their mark in the pre-Internet era. “She was a pioneer for female reporters and a role model for all foreign

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Cover Story

”If you don’t make a thing out of being a female,” she said, “if you don’t demand special privileges and don’t ask where you plug in your hair dryer, you have no problems.”

Landing in the Philippines after the evacuation of Saigon with Bob Carroll. correspondents. She was one of the legends,” said veteran Agence FrancePresse journalist Chris Lefkow, who covered the 1991 Gulf War with her. Modest and intensely private, Kate chose the anonymity of wire journalism over other media. “She was a classic war correspondent – chain-smoking, hard-drinking, foul-mouthed at times and always fearless,” said AFP’s Roberto Coloma, a long-time friend. “But beneath that hard exterior was a tender, caring person. Kate always had a soft spot for the underdog.” Kate was born in Christchurch, New Zealand in 1943 and moved to Australia at the age of eight when her father became a professor of political science in Canberra. Death first shook Kate’s life when her parents were killed in a car crash when she was 18. After studying philosophy at Melbourne University, she wanted to become an artist. Kate stumbled into journalism when she was forced to pay for a stained-glass window she shattered while working on it. She landed a job as a secretary on Sydney’s Daily Mirror and soon became a cadet reporter. At 23 she resigned, paid her own way to Saigon and wrangled a job as a freelancer for the United Press International wire service, where she would work for

about 13 years. It wasn’t easy at first. “What the hell would I want a girl for?” she recalled the bureau chief remarking before he agreed to give her a chance to work. UPI assigned her to cover South Vietnamese politics, but she was soon filling in for male reporters on the battlefields. “She was beautiful, darkhaired and elfin. This, combined with her steely toughness, fascinated an almost all-male press corps,” wrote Tony Clifton and Hamish McDonald in the Sydney Morning Herald. She quickly proved her mettle, becoming the first wire service reporter at the US Embassy on the morning the Tet offensive was launched in January 1968. That spring she survived an American rocket attack on a Saigon military building that killed everyone around her, including the South Vietnamese police chief. She brushed herself off, ran back into the rubble to aid the wounded, then wrote a stirring account of the incident. A curiosity to soldiers, she was nonetheless accepted. “If you don’t make a thing out of being a female,” she said, “if you don’t demand special privileges and don’t ask where you plug in your hair dryer, you have no problems.”

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In 1970, she became bureau chief in Phnom Penh after her boss and their photographer were killed. After her captivity in 1971, which left her with two types of malaria that nearly killed her, Kate saw out the end of the Vietnam War, filing ceaselessly for 24 hours as the last Americans fled falling Saigon. Kate liked the sometimes lonely life of the foreign correspondent and hated being tethered to head office by a mobile phone. “It’s like we’re all mosquitoes dancing on the surface of a pond. We have to move so fast that reporting has suffered. It’s nowhere as meticulous as it was,” she lamented. In 1975 she returned from Hong Kong to cover the fall of Saigon, and in 1977 she moved to Jakarta to be with her then partner, John Steerman, an American oil executive. As a freelance journalist for The Economist and The Financial Times, she had frequent run-ins with Indonesia’s Ministry of Information, which rescinded her visa five times. She joined AFP in Jakarta in 1985 and remained with the agency for 16 years, serving in Indonesia, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, South Korea and Afghanistan. In 1990, her most dangerous moment came when a drugged assassin invaded her room in the old Kabul Hotel in Afghanistan. With the help of colleagues Ahmed Rashid and Mark Fineman, Kate wrenched herself free of the would-be killer. In 1992, she travelled through the Hindu Kush to meet the Uzbek war lord Abdul Rashid Dostum and confirm he was switching support from the government. She reported on North Korean leader Kim Il-Sung’s death in 1994, covered the handover of Hong Kong to China in 1997 and the fall of Indonesia’s President Soeharto in 1998. Her last big story was East Timor’s tumultuous vote for independence in 1999. She made a point of meeting locals,

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Kate and friends earlier this year. whether ordinary citizens or leaders. She spent time brooding over a cigarette and a beer, testing the meaning of what she heard. She lived simply, giving away much of what she earned, such as to the children of her former Cambodian staff after their parents disappeared in Pol Pot’s holocaust, or to the Afghan refugee family who

“It’s like we’re all mosquitoes dancing on the surface of a pond. We have to move so fast that reporting has suffered. It’s nowhere as meticulous as it was.” camped in her flat in Delhi. Kate retired in 2001, saying she’d become “too old to keep up with frontline reporting, and that was the only kind I liked”. She settled in a house in the Hunter Valley, growing vegetables, tending old horses, networking with Vietnam veterans and teaching journalism for a year in Ohio. Diagnosed with bowel cancer in

October, she bore pain with characteristic humour. At the end, through the veil of pain that cancer brought, Kate was uncomplaining and remained fiercely witty. When a nurse found her outside the hospital having a quiet cigarette and chided her with a warning that smoking was bad for her, she shot back cheerily: “Too late!” Kate’s legendary open-handedness also remained intact to the last. Her sister, Rachel, found a letter to Kate that read: “our family was so overwhelmed by your extremely generous donation towards drug expenses for Fiona. Thank you for your amazing generosity especially when you don’t know her, or us, at all.” The letter was from a woman Kate had met briefly. Her daughter had a brain tumour but did not qualify for drug rebates. Kate’s funeral in Sydney ended with a recording of Edith Piaf singing Non! Je regrette rien (which as we all knew, she didn’t), wrote Tony Clifton after the service. Compiled from reports by AFP, AP, the Sydney Morning Herald, the LA Times and The Washington Post.

Cover Story Jollies

Jim Laurie (right) in debate with neo-con Richard Perle (centre) in Almaty

Musings from the Conference Circuit:

Cultural Learnings in Almaty and Dubai By Jim Laurie

sually every spring and summer a collection of academics, a few favoured journalists and a lot of unemployed politicians set out on the international conference circuit. They are in search of a number of things: an exchange of information, networking, exotic travel, and occasionally, rip-roaring intellectual debate and even a riproaring good time. I headed out recently on the circuit to Dubai in the UAE and Almaty

in Kazakshtan: two of my favourite conference destinations. For those who have not been there â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Almaty is a blast. Much of the city looks like a throwback to the 1970s Soviet era, but the Kazakhs are so damn friendly and the views of the nearby Tien Shan mountain range so splendid that you forget the slightly oppressive feel of the place and ignore the fact that a single, largely unchallenged leader has been running the country since 1991. The Kazakh Parliament has just voted to permit Nursultan Nazarbayev to remain President

for life. He remains a vigorous 67-yearold, has slowly raised living standards among his 15 million subjects, and is well liked by the democratic West (the United States and Britain tend to praise him) and the autocratic West and East (the Russians and Chinese find him a congenial neighbour). Rich in oil and gas, much of it unexploited, Kazakhstan seems to have no shortage of friends. The only wrinkle on the political face of Kazakhstan appears to be a man named Rakhat Aliyev who, until he was arrested in Vienna, was

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a Presidential wannabe, a past head of the tax service, and the recent Kazakh Ambassador to Austria. He also happens to be married to my host, the daughter of the President, Dariga Nazarbayeva. Depending on who you talk to, Aliyev is either a kidnapper, a murderer, or simply too politically ambitious. Now Ms. Nazarbayeva (I call her Dariga and I was too polite a guest to ask her about her husband) is a smart and capable woman who also happens to be a hell of an opera singer. I have cast her in my mind as Wagner’s Isolde or Brünnhilde, though in truth I have heard her sing only Kazakh folk songs. I must say I have a soft spot for smart daughters of powerful fathers. Dariga - of course. And when I met Pakistan’s Benazir Bhutto some years ago I found her absolutely charming. But she had a questionable spouse too. Why is it, strong, intelligent women marry so poorly? I can report that the good folks of Almaty seem to have weathered nicely both the political inertia of the place and the assault of Sacha Baron Cohen whose movie, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, has enjoyed brisk sales in the city. Sorry Sacha, I think the DVDs were made in Russia. In case you wondered, Kazakhstan is nothing like Borat’s world. For two things – the women are fantastic-looking and they are wonderfully liberated. Not once did I spot a moustache nor a woman pulling a plough. After a rocky period during which the Kazakhs didn’t know what to do about Borat, they are now joining in on the joke to their glorious benefit. The Turan Alen Kazakhstan Symphony Orchestra (and it is very much more than a kazoo and a zither) recently completed a tour to London to perform the musical works of Erran Baron Cohen, real-life brother to Sacha, AKA. Borat. The concert at St. James in Piccadilly was widely

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acclaimed by Brits, Borat-skys and Kazakhs alike. The conference in Almaty brought Kazakh academics, journalists and politicians together with their counterparts from Russia, Iran, Israel, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, the US, the UK, China, South Korea and a half dozen other countries. There were some remarkable conference moments. At lunch, long-time US diplomat under Democratic presidents, Richard Holbrooke, grilled Afghanistan’s recently ousted Foreign Minister, Abdullah Abdullah, on the mess being created by the Karzai government in Kabul. Acknowledging conditions in Afghanistan were deteriorating and the Taliban were gaining strength, Abdullah was at pains to point to any other leader who could emerge to do better than the indecisive and faltering Hamid Karzai. On the opposite end of the table from me sat former Iranian President Mohammed Khatami, who contended the American Administration had made a big mistake by not pursuing renewed bilateral relations with Iran during his time in leadership. Khatami would not be drawn on his thoughts about current President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. The Iranian ex was seated at a diplomatic distance from a man who later pronounced the Iranian’s pronouncements nonsense. The pronouncer was none other than one of George Bush’s original band of neo-cons who got America into the Iraq War. Fate has not been kind to the Iraqis, the American troops sent to war, and pseudo-conservative intellectuals. But Richard Perle, who was once labelled the “Prince of Darkness” by Washington wags, survives, barely ruffled by his mistakes or those of the Bush Administration. He writes, is host of a one-hour American Public Television documentary, goes to conferences, and has private meetings with President Nazarbayev. And

In case you wondered, Kazakhstan is nothing like Borat’s world. For two things – the women are fantasticlooking and they are wonderfully liberated. Not once did I spot a moustache nor a woman pulling a plough.

Jollies

afp

Galloway: Knows how to liven up a conference

I must say, he can be a pleasant conversationalist. He confided to me that when he was at Hollywood High School in the 1960s he had a crush on fellow student Tuesday Weld (two years his junior). Well a neo-con who likes Tuesday can’t be all bad. (For those of you who are too young to remember, the blonde, beautiful Ms. Weld was the Lindsay Lohan of her day – bad girl actress linked to Elvis Presley in Wild in the Country.) Moments of conflict plague even the best conference planners. I was asked to chair a seminar on nuclear proliferation. The panellists were to include a retired Israeli army general and the former Iranian President. But then word came from Tehran through the Embassy that no Iranian would be permitted to sit on the same panel with an Israeli. Since Ahmadinejad told Muslim leaders in Malaysia last year that the solution to the Middle East crisis was the destruction of Israel, I suppose it was unrealistic for me to expect that I could moderate a friendly exchange

between Iranians and Israelis. So we conducted our debate about Iranian, Israeli, and North Korean nuclear ambitions without the Iranians. Needless to say, while we had an excellent expert from South Korea on our panel, letters inviting a North Korean delegate went unanswered. And then there was that wonderful moment when Dick Holbrooke stormed off the stage. Walkouts at conferences always liven things up. I’ve known Dick since we met in China in 1979 and normally he’s pretty restrained. But Holbrooke staged his walkout after the irrepressible George Galloway launched into one of his repetitive anti-American tirades. (By the way have you ever Googled “loud mouthed British MP?” If you do – Galloway comes up.) Galloway is known as either a Member of Parliament or a failed contestant on Celebrity Big Brother who lasted only three weeks on the TV show. He was evicted around the time an old video turned up of George

sharing a joke with Saddam Hussein’s son Uday. A double whammy. Holbrooke, who may well return to an American administration should Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama be elected, will be unlikely to invitethe MP from Bethnal Green and Bow to dinner in Washington in 2009. Not satisfied with the debates of Almaty, I packed my cultural learnings, bade farewell to my Kazakh friends, and boarded the three-anda-half hour Air Astana flight to Dubai for another round of conferences. The Arab Media Forum is one of dozens of events organised each year under the auspices of Sheikh Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, UAE Vice President, Prime Minister and Ruler of Dubai. Besides possessing one of the longest combination names and titles among leaders, (and he is rarely introduced without the full name and titles), Sheikh Mohammed runs a pretty fancy corner of the United Arab Emirates. I’ve been visiting Dubai regularly for 15 years now, but never have I

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

afp

Dubai: Count the cranes

seen the place so amazingly excessive as now. The Dubai building boom continues unabated. They say 46 percent of the world’s construction cranes are in Dubai. I have no idea who keeps track of such things; perhaps the same people who said a few years ago that 46 percent of the world’s construction cranes were in Shanghai. But Shanghai and Taipei had better look out. Dubai by next year will have the world’s tallest building, the world’s largest shopping centre, and the largest combination of manmade islands. The place makes Hong Kong reclamation look ridiculously stingy. The conference was staged at a marvellous new hotel owned by – who else – Sheikh Mohammed. While designed as a cross between a 13thcentury Arab market and 10th-century Venice, I couldn’t help feeling that I was in 21st-century Las Vegas. What I like about these conferences is that they bring together some remarkable characters and occasion-

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ally focus good minds on some worthy issues. My old friend Abdullah Schleifer was there. Abdullah is a New York Jew who converted to Islam in the late 1960s, worked in Cairo for years, introduced me to Beirut in 1975, and helped develop one of the few journalism schools in the Middle East at the Adham Center of the American University in Cairo. Schleifer and I were asked to speak on the need for better training of journalists. The need is more critical than ever as the Middle East (and indeed South Asia and much of the developing world) experiences a veritable explosion of television news channels, newspapers and magazines. A further advantage of this conference was that we got to meet some excellent and determined Arab journalists. They are a courageous lot. Flying between Gaza, Lebanon and Iraq, they are among the most endangered anywhere. So it was good to see them come together here to

exchange views with their non-Arab colleagues. A meeting of the International Association of Press Clubs, on the side lines of the Arab Forum, actually accomplished one thing about which I am proud (especially as I had campaigned for it). Veteran writer and former editor of the London Observer, Donald Trelford, with whom I have shared a number of these conference experiences over the years, hammered out a statement calling for the protection of all journalists in war zones. We also got the Arab Conference to sign on and demand the immediate release of BBC journalist Alan Johnston, who at this writing was still being held by extremists in the Gaza Strip. We may not have done much, but it was good to be in solidarity with Arab colleagues on this. So, while forays into international conferences often have their more bizarre moments, some good things can come out of the world of international conference travel. I look forward to more cultural learnings next year.

Cover Story Media

Protection for journalists urged

two-day meeting of the International Association of Press Clubs in Dubai ended Wednesday April 25 with a joint declaration with the Arab Media Forum calling for increased efforts to safeguard working journalists around the world. The declaration called for the immediate release of the BBC journalist Alan Johnston kidnapped on March 12 in Gaza. The statement went on to call on the international community “to take practical and legal measures to protect journalists working in dangerous places.” The joint resolution reminded several hundreds of participants at the Arab Media Forum that at least 1,000 journalists have been killed in hostile environments in the past 10 years. The International Association of Press Clubs (IAPC) was founded in 2002 as an organization to increase cooperation among international journalists, to uphold ethics, encourage free access to and distribution of information worldwide. The Foreign Correspondents’ Club, Hong Kong was a founding member. Fifteen clubs representing more than 10,000members are active in the IAPC. In addition to the FCC, member organisations include the London Press Club, the Press Club of France, the Foreign Correspondents Club of South Asia (Delhi), the Overseas Press Club (New York), the Berlin Press Club, the Geneva Press Club, the Singapore Press Club and the Dubai Press Club. Representatives of IAPC members

Joint Declaration by the Arab Media Forum & the International Association of Press Clubs. Dubai 24-25 April, 2007 We, the participants in the Arab Media Forum, meeting in Dubai, join the International Association of Press Clubs (IAPC), representing 10,000 journalists around the world in calling on the international community to take practical and legal measures to protect journalists working in dangerous places, 1000 of whom have been killed in the past 10 years. We call on all countries to capture and prosecute all those guilty of murder and violence against media personnel, including the local people who help journalists as drivers and translators in war zones. In particular, we call for the immediate release of the BBC journalist Alan Johnston, who was kidnapped in Gaza six weeks ago.

discussed ways to increase the profile of the organisation and promote the interests of cooperation among international press clubs. The participants resolved to explore ways to promote the education of young journalists around the world. They agreed that the next General Assembly of the IAPC would be held in early 2008 and hosted by the Foreign Correspondents Club of South Asia in New Delhi, India.

For more information on the meeting, see: www.iapcworld.org/

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Technology and News – A BBC Presenter’s Take

n the hours after the bombings in London on July 7, 2005, the BBC alone received 20,000 e-mails, 3,000 text messages, 1,000 digital images and 20 video files. This was just one of many examples of the spectacular information deluge that is the new reporting reality, a phenomenon discussed by Nik Gowing, the BBC World’s high-octane, high-profile news presenter, at the British Consulate-General’s media.uk series. The thrust of the presentation – which, curiously, was off the record, although Gowing repeated much of what he said in a later Q&A session that was on the record – was that digital technology and the influx of information from the public as amateur reporters is threatening the power and credibility of governments, military and security agencies, and the corporate world. Think, for example, of the US military’s disaster over the Abu Ghraib prison abuse images, or the mobile phone images of Saddam Hussein’s hanging, and many other examples where amateur users of the new technology have undermined the credibility of the powers-that-be, or at least severely discomfited them. Governments have been in a state of denial over the impact of the new technology, but Gowing believes that this mindset is starting to shift. For example, former US Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld admitted official inadequacy when he commented: “Our enemies have skillfully adapted to fight wars in today’s media age but for the most part we … our government has not adapted.” Gowing says the rapid developments in media technology pose enormous challenges to governments – but also place great strain on the media who monitor and filter masses of information, much of it from amateurs. As every journalist knows, the

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“I consider as a presenter that I’ve got to go into the office slightly fearful that something’s going to happen today that I will know nothing about. My job is to live on the edge from the moment I wake up, making sure that I listen to everything.” most unreliable sources of information about breaking events can be eyewitnesses, who tend to embellish, exaggerate, or say what they think the media would want to, or ought to, know. Gowing said there were occasions when members of the public had phoned the BBC saying they had seen something dramatic when they clearly had not. “There was classic case on the night Diana was killed when a woman phoned up saying she had seen a blonde woman walk away from the wreckage, which was clearly absurd and we didn’t put her on the air.” He says the BBC eschews the buzz phrase “citizen journalism”, because most of the content is provided by citizens is unedited, raw, information and opinion, not journalism. But he takes issue with those people, including senior figures in his own profession such as Kate Adie, who opine that news is moving so

rapidly these days, and breathlessly reported on 24-hour rolling news channels, that there is little room for in-depth reporting and analysis. “Don’t say I’m criticising Kate Adie. She is a very brave reporter and a good friend.” But Gowing begs to differ with her view, which she has put with typical forcefulness at the FCC, that the new technology has become a kind of tyranny that hinders decent reporting by the broadcast media. And he has sound advice for journalists – in any medium: “I consider as a presenter that I’ve got to go into the office slightly fearful that something’s going to happen today that I will know nothing about. My job is to live on the edge from the moment I wake up, making sure that I listen to everything.” He added the following recommendation, which Adie would certainly agree with: “Be suspicious all the time. Be questioning all the time.” – Jonathan Sharp

Cover Story Heritage

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Passengers disembark from a pleasure boat at Queen’s Pier.

Pier Pressure There have been endless discussions about what exactly constitutes a Hong Kong heritage site. There was, and still is, a considerable amount of healthy disagreement. This came to a head when the Star Ferry pier and its clock tower were demolished. It happened in December, ironically, on the 49th anniversary of the pier’s construction. Arthur Hacker reports.

n the past few years the powers that be have made it obvious that they haven’t a clue what the word heritage means. It is therefore not surprising that they did not anticipate the public’s reaction. It is claimed that the design of the new Star Ferry pier was inspired by a former pre-World War Two structure. It has a brand new clock, which unlike the one that they have removed, had not been presented by the King of the Belgians to the Swire Company in England and later erected in Hong Kong. The new pier is weird, but it could

easily be hailed in 50 years’ time as a piece of heritage, if only as an example of a 21st century folly. Strange-looking buildings can qualify as heritage sites. A perfect example is Government House which was designed by C. St. G. Cleverly, a corrupt surveyor-general, and “orientalised” by Seichi Fujimura, a Japanese railway engineer. In the past it was mainly the older generation, often well-educated expatriates, who objected to the wanton destruction of historic buildings. But attitudes have changed. Today the most vocal of the protesters are young

Chinese who come from all walks of life. They want to retain the old familiar landmarks that they have inherited, known all their lives, and loved. In other words their heritage. Queen’s Pier, a hundred yards east of the remains of the old Star Ferry, is also due to be demolished. This time, to avoid criticism, a new plan has been suggested, which is to erect a replica pier on a traffic island somewhere near to the harbour. The concept of a fake pier on a piece of grass surrounded by a traffic jam of vehicles vomiting pollution, I find bizarre. My

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I was in for a shock. What must be the oldest semicircular arch in Hong Kong is now almost completely concealed behind a vile, bilious green, slapdash construction of iron girders welded crudely together and roofed over with dirty perspex. favourite memories of Queen’s Pier are of waiting to board a junk knowing that in a few minutes I would be gulping glorious fresh sea air. The thought of Queen’s Pier on a traffic island jogged my memory. There is a genuine piece of Hong Kong heritage that was originally the East Gate of the Seamen’s Hospital. In 1843, the sea reached the foot of the gate’s steps. Sick sailors arrived in small boats and were carried up the steps. The gate can be found (with great difficulty) in an unmarked lane off Wanchai Road. It has a typical semi-circular stilted archway edged with irregular quoins. When it was built, harbour waters lapped the steps below the gate. Due to massive reclamation it is now situated over two kilometres inland, south of the harbour. A Parsee merchant called Heerjeebhoy Rustomjee conceived the idea of building a hospital for foreign seamen. He offered to donate

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HK$12,000, but unfortunately he went bankrupt just as the scheme got going and Jardine, Matheson & Co. had to pick up the bill. Jardines sold it to the Royal Navy. The Naval Hospital is long gone. In 1994 the present Ruttonjee Hospital was opened by Hong Kong’s last British governor, Christopher Patten. It replaced the Ruttonjee Sanatorium, which was named after another Parsee merchant, Jehanghir Ruttonjee, who built it in 1949. In my Wanchai years I enjoyed taking visitors through the picturesque Chinese market in Wanchai Road, then dragging them into the side lane and explaining to them that if it was 1843 they would be standing up to their necks in Victoria Harbour. A few weeks ago, because of the silly Queen’s Pier suggestion, I decided to take another look at the beautiful gate. I took along my camera. I was in for a shock. What must be the oldest semi-circular arch in

Hong Kong is now almost completely concealed behind a vile, bilious green, slapdash construction of iron girders welded crudely together and roofed over with dirty perspex. This act of vandalism was ill-conceived. It would be easy enough to design a canopy to keep the rain off people using the steps so that the fine historic archway could be seen in all its glory. In Michael Humphries’ book Ruttonjee Sanatorium (sponsored by Ruttonjee Estates Continuation Ltd) there is a picture of the gateway in 1996. In April this year 17 conservation groups signed a joint declaration accusing government of ignoring the central government’s legislation on heritage conservation in regard to Queen’s Pier. If they have a bit of spare time perhaps they could do something about preserving the 1843 Seamen’s Hospital East Gate, an absolutely genuine piece of Hong Kong’s heritage.

Jazz Festival

2007 T

FCC Jazz Festival

he FCC Jazz Festival, which it is to be hoped will now become the annual event it was originally intended to be, was a resounding success. Recognising the status of Bert’s as one of the town’s best jazz venues – and for many of them a regular gig – the cream of Hong Kong’s jazz musicians made themselves available for three nights of exhilarating music and lively trade over the bars, particularly in sponsor Glenlivet’s free-flowing single malt whisky. Performances were of a uniformly high standard with strong sets from the Saturday Night Orchestra fronted by the Club’s own Elaine Liu, FCC musical director and festival organiser Allen Youngblood and Jazbalaya, and visitors Red Taurus, Skip Moy’s Gypsy Jazz, Ginger Kwan, and the Urban Band. Gypsy Jazz, inevitably given their early evening slot, were more talked over than listened to but it would be good to see them back under circumstances

more conducive to their very fine acoustic guitar playing being properly heard. Local hero Eugene Pao – now gigging more regularly and enthusiastically than he has for years – was warmly received, and Zurich based bluesman Zach Prather played some fine funky music which should have earned him a return invitation to town. The admission of non-members for three evenings was also a useful PR exercise. There is currently a lengthy waiting list for membership, but it’s likely that quite a few extra application forms were filled in over the following days. Let’s look forward to the next festival, and in the interim to seeing some of this year’s participants back in Bert’s on the regular Tuesday, Thursday and Friday band nights. – Robin Lynam PHOTOGRAPHS BY TERRY DUCKHAM/ASIAPIX THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

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Jazz Festival

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Jazz Festival

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Cover Story Travel

The Hitch-hiker’s Guide to

Tibet

By Cecilie Gamst Berg

“D

o you realise that normal people prepare for months for a trip like this?” remarks my friend Lee as we stand knee-deep in snow on a 5,000 metre high mountain, trying to get the car back on the road. They do? I feel I have prepared well for our hitch-hiking trip by packing winter clothes and by reading the section on Tibet in my travel book: “Avoid discussing politics, religion and other sensitive subjects. Bring sunglasses and cream.” Besides, pick a location, pack and go has always been our travelling style. But yes, I can see now that it’s certainly going to take more than two days to get from Lhasa to Kunming overland,

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Left: Tourists walk past Lhasa’s famous Potala Palace. Above: a pilgrim prostrates himself while tourists check digital photographs. Below: posing with monks in Lhasa. afp

and that we should have believed the German guy with the frost-bitten lips who’d just driven from Shanghai to Lhasa on a motorbike. He said hitchhiking in Tibet was impossible and the roads very, very bad: snowy, rockstrewn and treacherous. This man, we decide in our insane optimism based on the guidebook, must be lying. For political reasons I’ve always been reluctant to go to Tibet, but when I start seeing photos from the new

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train thundering across the grasslands of Qinghai and northern Tibet, I cave in. Of course those pictures were taken in summer or early autumn, not in April. In April it’s pretty much a case of can’t see a thing because of blizzards. On the train we meet a Chinese cook eager to educate us about Tibetan history, and learn that before the Chinese liberated Tibet, Lhasa was

just a swamp. Also: the Potala Palace was built by a Chinese king. Ah, yes, the Potala Palace, object of a hundred documentaries and scourge of Michael Palin. As usual with world famous monuments it looks much smaller than in the pictures and, it turns out, isn’t the real tourist attraction in liberated Lhasa. No, what all the red baseball capwearing hordes with their shrieking guides have come to see is in fact

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On the train we meet a Chinese cook eager to educate us about Tibetan history, and learn that before the Chinese liberated Tibet, Lhasa was just a swamp. Also: the Potala Palace was built by a Chinese king. Potala Square, a veritable Tiananmen in miniature and home of a gigantic phallic monument celebrating the everlasting friendship between Tibetans and Chinese. Around it stand statues of rifle-thrusting workers and peasants, all staring grimly and with much clenching of eyebrows at the Chinese flag in the middle of the square. In the morning, thousands of Tibetans shuffle round and round the Potala Palace in prayer, many prostrating themselves for hours in front of the holy site. In their Tibetan garb and long braids intertwined with red cloth they look startlingly out of place as they lie face down on the wide, Parisian boulevard-style pavement while Han Chinese sporting the latest fashions saunter about. Shiny cars with black windows zip by on the four-lane highway dominating

the square, built to celebrate 20 years of successful liberation. When the new Qinghai-Lhasa railway was built, many people were concerned about increased masses of mainland and foreign tourists further destroying the Tibetan culture. These people should worry no more – there’s not much left to destroy. At least not architecturally. Apart from some traditional buildings and pissstinking old winding streets around another site for much prostrating, the Jokhang Temple, Lhasa looks like any Chinese city with green glasstiled monster houses, badly built apartment blocks and a total absence of connection with the past. It seems to be Han Chinese who are running most businesses. We ask 10 or 12 shopkeepers how to say “hello” in Tibetan, but nobody knows. When we discover, by leafing

through a bunch of old postcards, that the Potala Palace used to be mirrored by a large, smiling lake lined with weeping willows and traditional Tibetan houses, it all gets too depressing, and in a howling blizzard we start our hitch-hiking trip back to Hong Kong. The driver is a man we met in a bar the night before and he is a professional. Effortlessly he thunders down the road at 140 kmh in the grey weather while wearing sunglasses, talking on his mobile and watching a movie on the little TV monitor thoughtfully placed on the inside of the windshield. I have to say I feel some pangs of nervousness several times on the journey as we hurtle through the yak-dotted scenery, and have to laugh in retrospect. Nervous – nothing! That road was paved, and wider than the car! But it is certainly

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a cause for concern that after an eight-hour drive we are just a few millimetres out of Lhasa, according to the map. The next morning we are immediately picked up by an official in charge of bringing Guangdong technology to the hinterland. To accommodate him and other investors, a spanking new city, Zhilin, has been plonked down, last week it seems, in the middle of the mountains. I suppose “downtown Shenzhen” doesn’t look more incongruous amid these towering snowy ranges than “Tiananmen Square, Shenzhen” does in the middle of Lhasa. The kind official doesn’t really get our explanation about hitch-hiking in Tibet but with unfailing Chinese hospitality he drives us to the next village, immediately turning back the way we’ve come. We catch another lift with some Tibetans who also turn back after dropping us – and that’s the end of private cars in Tibet. We have no choice but to start walking ... and continue walking. Not only aren’t there any private cars; there are no vehicles at all. According to our plans we should

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be making the descent into Kunming by now; instead here we are, with a bottle of water between us, three hours’ walk from the nearest town. Adventurous! We are very happy to each pay the next driver 100 yuan to take us across the next mountain range, scarily high and covered in snow. From then on we realise we are basically travelling across Tibet by taxi. The road soon becomes a narrow gravelly track hacked out of the vertical mountain face. One centimetre too far to the right and we will plunge scenically into the gully several hundred metres below. Far above there’s a movement, a furious flapping of wings: vultures. A sky burial! The guidebook warns against unauthorised visits to these too. But when we pass the feather-flying spot on our way up and forever up, we see they are feasting only on a dead yak. Our driver on this, what turns out to be a 17-hour, non-stop drive, had just popped out in the morning to get some fags when we shanghai him. He is wearing slippers and a thin jacket. That’s why Lee and I with

Chinese tourists arrive in Lhasa. Previous page: an early morning train leaves Lhasa station.

our superior footwear and clothes have to get out again and again to push the car out of snowdrifts every time it gets stuck, which is often. When it starts getting dark and we’re pushing the car, waterless and foodless, across yet another endless expanse of snow, we start thinking that distrusting the words of Germans isn’t always a good idea. And neither is trusting the words of certain locals: the next town turns out to have no cash point although everybody said it does. After paying the driver and the hotel we thus have 100 yuan for the journey to Kunming, still well over two days away. This is what real adventure is all about. Not your boring, predictable “hitch-hiking through Tibet in a couple of days” but real, concrete fear of death, first from plunging, then from exposure and finally from starvation. Back in Hong Kong I now have a Zen-like indifference to the minor irritations in life such as being burgled and being told I will soon lose my house. What’s that compared to tumbling down a ravine, broke and really, really hungry?

Cover Story Travel

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Jonathan Sharp flies Oasis

‘Room for three Mahjong Tables’ 28

ith a pastor as chairman, and operating on what it calls “biblical principles”, the new budget long-haul carrier, Oasis Hong Kong Airlines, might seem to be trying to ensure it has God on its side. Indeed there were many in the airline industry who believed that the start-up airline would need a few Heaven-sent miracles if it was going to survive. Moreover, at least initially, it looked like the Almighty was in no mood to grant any favours: the inaugural Oasis flight to London last October was famously postponed when permits to overfly Russia were mysteriously revoked at the last minute. But since that public relations fiasco, Oasis has not looked back. Load factors on its first route, Hong Kong-Gatwick, are now up around 85 percent, a second route, Hong Kong-Vancouver, has been launched, the company’s on-time performance is second to none, and the airline’s chairman, the Rev. Raymond Lee, proudly reports that the airline

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became cash-flow positive in March, far ahead of expectations. Oasis has an interesting business plan. It’s not a classic low-cost carrier model, piling as many passengers as possible into an aluminium tube and treating them like battery chickens. A large proportion of seats on Oasis – 81 out of a total of 359 on the London flight – are business class, reportedly accounting for 60 per cent of revenues. It’s the largest business class on the Hong Kong-London route. A further unusual feature for a budget carrier is that Oasis planes carry cargo, bringing in a further 15-20 percent. Oasis looked at an all-economy class configuration for its long-haul services, but decided it couldn’t be done profitably. The airline started with just one aircraft, a Boeing 747-400 previously owned and doubtless excellently maintained by Singapore Airlines. A second 747-400, also ex-SIA, came later, followed by a third, this time bought from All Nippon Airways. Two more are on the way, and the airline has ambitious expansion plans. A third destination, Oakland, is very possible by the end of the year, say officials, who talk about

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acquiring 25 aircraft in five years’ time. Eleven other destinations in North America and Europe are on the radar screen, according to the airline’s website. Oasis initially grabbed headlines for its prices, starting from a low of HK$1,000 one-way to London for a proportion of economy class seats and HK$6,600 for some business class seats. It has also offered a series of promotional deals, which could have suggested that Oasis is having trouble filling seats. Not so, says Ken Chad, Director Commercial of Oasis. Interviewed at his office in Tung Chung, Chad said: “The strategy is to develop load first, then develop yield.” The first goal has now been achieved. “Loads are very strong. We are no longer a start-up.” Promotional deals will continue to be offered as new destinations are rolled out. Chad said there were many skeptics who claimed Oasis would never survive in the cutthroat aviation industry. The doubters cited the fact that Oasis had no network to offer, no frequent flyer programme, no flat beds and no first class. But now, as Chad added drily, “The line of nay-

sayers is a lot shorter.” Apart from attracting leisure passengers to its business class, Oasis is targeting employees of small and medium enterprises who might previously have flown economy class. “There is so much business done between Hong Kong and major cities at an SME level and that’s what we are facilitating.” Chad says people employed by large corporates are not Oasis’s kind of market. “The corporates are the targets of the Goliaths of the industry with massive networks, like our friends across the road” – Cathay Pacific. While reasonable business class prices can be found on airlines that stop once or twice between Hong Kong and Europe, Oasis’s pitch is that it saves time by flying non-stop, pointto-point. So what is business class on Oasis like? My wife Betty and I took advantage of a promotion offering a return business class fare to Gatwick for HK$6,600 each. When all the fees and surcharges were totted up the bill came to $18,070 for the two of us. Oasis check-in counters at the airport are in the cavernous new

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Terminal 2, but in-town check-in was available and worked smoothly. Free access to a lounge, operated by CNAC (China National Aviation Corporation) in Terminal 1, is available. For the return flight there’s also a free lounge at Gatwick, which comes as a relief after enduring the misery of the airport’s staggering ineptness in handling tightened security measures. Bookings can be made online or through a travel agent – an Oasis mantra is that it is travel-agent friendly. From 72 hours before takeoff it’s possible to go online for seat assignment. We tried to get on the top deck of the 747, but it was already full (apparently those seats tend to be booked first). But we were perfectly content with our seats on the lower deck, mainly because they were positioned right at the front of the aircraft, where SIA’s first class used to be, and there is masses of space. The pitch between the reclining seats is 60” and in the middle of the aircraft there is so much vacant space that Betty was moved to comment: “Room enough for three mahjong tables.”

Ashtrays in the seats were a reminder that the aircraft was of a certain age, and the in-flight video and audio entertainment, while plentiful enough, was not play-ondemand as in the current generation of airliners. A glass of decent champagne was served after take-

tive, friendly and clearly doing their utmost to make a 12-hour journey comfortable. The food on Oasis has come in for some decidedly mixed reviews, but if you have any complaints about that, or any other aspect of the service, you can make your views known directly to Stephen Miller, the Oasis Chief Executive Officer (and founder of Dragonair). If you book online, you will receive an e-mail from him asking for your comments, and he replies in person. According to Chad he receives up to 50 e-mails per day from customers, positive as well as negative. Another Oasis mantra is that it offers value for money – low fares that make long-distance travel more accessible to all while delivering standards of comfort available on more expensive airlines. And, according to our experience at least, it was a promise that was lived up to. And both flights were on time. As a footnote, be warned that where you will almost certainly not find value for money is on the British rail network. On arrival at Gatwick we travelled four and a half hours by train to Cornwall (mainly on First Great Western – a rail service so dire it has earned the nickname Worst Late Western). Our hostess in the lovely Cornish town of Fowey, former FCC stalwart Penny Byrne, had insisted that she buy the tickets in advance for us and send them to Hong Kong. Good thing she did. We ended up paying a total of £144 (HK$2,230) for the first class return tickets. If we had bought tickets at the station, the cost would have been nearer £600 (HK$9,300) – enough for one of us to fly from Hong Kong to London and back on Oasis business class. And, amazingly, on overcrowded and often dirty and decrepit British trains, the extortionate prices do not even guarantee walk-on ticket-holders a seat.

As a footnote, be warned that where you will almost certainly not find value for money is on the British rail network.

off, and both Asian and Western meals were offered for dinner and breakfast. Like other airlines, Oasis offers special meals to suit dietary requirements. Red and white wines – two kinds of each – came free (you have to pay for booze in economy). Our view was that Oasis may be better advised to stick to simple menus. Some of the dishes, especially those involving eggs, seemed a little overambitious. What did impress us – and others who have flown Oasis agree – is that the cabin attendants are atten-

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Photography

Then

Now

The changing face of Hong Kong View from the Peak. The top photograph was taken in August 1983. The bottom picture was shot 23 years later in August 2006.

ÂŠ Bob Davis. Web: http://www.bobdavisphotographer.com E-mail: bobdavis@netvigator.com

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Cover Story Books

The Season of

By Todd Crowell

ack in early 2003, when I was living in Hong Kong, I got an email from a friend and former colleague regretting that he had to cancel a planned trip to Hong Kong. “It’s that pneumonia thing,” he said. Pneumonia thing? What pneumonia thing? I wondered. What is he talking about? I was vaguely aware that some hospital in Kowloon had reported a few cases of what the newspapers were calling “atypical pneumonia”, but why this should be the cause to cancel a trip or why it should even have impinged on the consciousness of somebody living half-way around the world was a puzzle. Not long afterward I flew to Japan and was away from Hong Kong for about three weeks. When I returned to the SAR (Special Administrative Region), I found a city that had been utterly transformed by SARS. For by that time the “pneumonia thing” had acquired a name: Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome. A fellow traveller in the season of SARS was Karl Taro Greenfeld,

SARS

then the editor of TIME Asia in Hong Kong. He has written a compelling narrative about the SARS outbreak, China Syndrome: The 21st Century’s First Great Epidemic. Greenfeld begins his story considerably earlier than the time I first became aware of it by exploring the fetid menagerie of caged animals,

snakes, badgers, civet cats and other exotic ingredients of the “Wild Flavour” restaurants and slums of southern China, that great incubator of diseases. People had begun showing up in Guangzhou hospitals with similar symptoms: high fever, coughing, clouded X-rays. They did not seem to respond to antibiotics, the usual way to treat respiratory ailments. “As anecdotal reports of unexplained respiratory ailments filtered back across the border [to Hong Kong], influenza experts perked up and local virologists began to suspect that an influenza outbreak might be afoot,” he writes. SARS found its way into Hong Kong by way of a Chinese doctor, who, though feeling poorly, nevertheless travelled to the territory and checked into the Metropole Hotel in Kowloon, spewing his infection to the other guests. In a similar fashion the disease spread to Vietnam, Singapore, Canada and other parts of China. But health officials really understood they were under siege when SARS spread

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through Amoy Gardens. It is hard to overestimate the fear that this caused. Amoy Gardens is a typical lower-middle class high-rise apartment complex in Kowloon.

take over the anti-SARS campaign making it a centrepiece of his inchoate administration and using it as a wedge to consolidate power.” It was as if a dam had burst. The

attention was diverted by the invasion of Iraq, which took place almost simultaneously. Hong Kong may have been the world’s only media market where

It was as if a dam had burst. The number of acknowledged cases in Beijing tripled, quadrupled overnight. The news media covered the story 24/7.

There are a thousand like it throughout Hong Kong. If SARS could race through this building infecting hundreds and killing dozens in a matter of days, no place in Hong Kong was safe. Why this dreaded scenario was not repeated in other complexes is one of the mysteries of SARS. But, of course, it was in China that SARS had its greatest impact. Chinese officials deliberately stonewalled, obfuscated and lied. Reports of the disease that might have helped slow the spread to other cities were quashed, Reporters were told what not to report. China’s authorities were loath to admit that an outbreak of unknown severity was racing through the country at a delicate time when the country was undergoing a leadership change. Greenfeld quotes one doctor as saying, “What mattered more? The Party Congress or a few doctors?” Then surprisingly, the Chinese leadership did a complete about-turn. Rather than downplay the disease, they publicly acknowledged it and took measures to halt its spread. President Hu Jintao decided that the issue gave him “the populist sheen that could lubricate his ascension to real power,” Greenfeld writes. He visited hospitals and labs. He flew to “ground zero”, Guangzhou, to conduct a personal inspection. “Hu had made a brilliant political calculation; he would personally

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

number of acknowledged cases in Beijing tripled, quadrupled overnight. The news media covered the story 24/7. Special awards were made to health care workers – “Heroes of SARS”. A Beijinger could have his temperature taken a dozen times a day. Like all good medical narratives, China Syndrome is something of a detective story. Greenfeld gives plenty of space to the virologists who decoded the virus that caused SARS, not to mention his own TIME correspondents who “bombed” Beijing hospitals – that is, walked through the front door and asked nurses point blank whether they had any SARS cases. Yet for all of its virtues China Syndrome already has a kind of dated quality to it. After all, SARS burned itself out in a few months – nobody really knows why. Was it all that temperature-taking in Beijing? The culling of tens of thousands of civet cats in Shenzhen? a change in climate? Luck? On the scale of the world’s deadliest plagues, the 21st century’s “first great epidemic” didn’t quite live up to its billing. Fewer than 10,000 people were infected; fewer than 1,000 died of the disease. Not exactly the Black Death. SARS never impinged strongly on the English-speaking world. Only a handful of cases were reported in the United States. Most of the world’s

another story actually competed for attention with Iraq. But then we had our own nightly body count on the local news. Moreover, the hope and expectation that SARS and Hu Jintao’s response would usher in a new era of openness in China proved to be fleeting, a promise unfulfilled, as China’s authorities have since moved to assert their authority over the media. Even today we learn that a Chinese doctor, Gao Yaojie, acclaimed for helping fight the spread of AIDS, and coming into conflict with the authorities for doing it, is under house arrest and denied permission to travel to the United States to accept an award for her work. Yet those of us who lived through the season of SARS will never forget it. If nothing else it demonstrated how fast a strange new disease could take hold and spread far and wide in this globalised age of air travel. The century’s first great epidemic was a bullet dodged. But it will not be the last.

China Syndrome: The 21st Century’s First Great Epidemic By Karl Taro Greenfeld ISBN13: 9780141027531 / ISBN10: 0141027533 Penguin Books PB, 464 pages HK$148.00

Cover Remembered Lives Story

Fred Fredricks 1926-2007

let Henry “Fred” Fredricks, long-time FCC member and Hong Kong resident, passed away in his native Oklahoma on March 23 this year. He was 81. To say Fred had an unusual life would be more of a mis-statement than an understatement, writes David O’Rear. Oil man, fireman, salesman, policeman, lawyer, accountant, political activist and cavalry soldier – more of a lineage than a life, but that’s who Fred was. After just 10 years of formal schooling (and a year working for an oil company), he joined the volunteer fire department and entered a civil engineering degree programme at Oklahoma A&M College, just a month shy of his 17th birthday. As was common in 1943, he shortly thereafter joined the US Army Enlisted Reserve Corps, but they sent him back to school. In its vast wisdom, the Army decided that what it needed from Fred was the ability to ride and fight while mounted ... on a horse. Fred was sent to the 129th Cavalry Regiment in March 1944, the last unit of its kind established for active (rather than ceremonial) duty. A few months later, the combined British, American, Chinese and Burmese forces finally got out of the Burmese jungle and into its central plains. What they needed was someone familiar with managing pack horses in

such territory, and Sergeant Fredricks got the call. Fred’s first war lasted four months, at which point the objectives had been taken and he had contracted something that put him in an Indian hospital for another four months. From India, Fred was sent to Shanghai, and then home, in mid-1946. He went back to school (political science, then law at George Washington) on the GI Bill, but worked part time as a cop for the Capitol Police in Washington, DC. Upon completion of his studies, he practised law for a while but was soon called back to active duty, in October 1950. First Lieutenant (Legal Specialist) Fredricks served in Washington for about 3-1/2 years during the Korean War. Fred travelled to Philadelphia in 1948 as a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. He backed Harry Truman, heard Hubert Humphrey’s call for “human rights” over states rights (ie segregation) and stood up and loudly applauded when the racist “Dixiecrats” under Strom Thurmond walked out in protest. The 1950s were the last time Fred lived in America, but he left his mark. While working for the US Justice Department, Fred became the first lawyer to successfully sue the US Government for treaty violations against Native American tribes. He was quite proud of that.

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

In March 1959, for reasons I can’t quite identify, Fred moved to Okinawa, where he sold life insurance and prepared tax forms for American soldiers. Eleven years later, in March 1970, he moved to Hong Kong, and stayed. Fred was a charter member of the American Chamber of Commerce in Hong Kong and American Democrats Abroad (Hong Kong). He was also a regular at the weekly Alcoholics Synonymous and a pretty good pool player. For most of his 37 years in Hong Kong, he was a regular presence in the Main Bar, renowned for his quick smile, easy laugh and terrible jokes. Fred never did catch on to the usual Hong Kong practice of walking through people in a crowd without so much as a by-your-leave, and so on occasion one might hear a brief, pointed characterisation being tossed at the back of someone who’s jiggled his elbow without notice. Cavalrymen are funny that way.

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Remembering the good times at Fred’s FCC wake

People

Bonnie Engel (left) would like to thank everyone for their pressies on her 65th birthday. Unfortunately, the tags got separated from the gifts after the festivities!

A Clique of Photographers! L-R: Terry Duckham, Robin Moyer, Keith MacGregor, Bob Davis, Hugh van Es and Kasyan Bartlett. Photo by Adrianne Lynch

Results of the elections for the 2007-2008 Board of Governors Number of votes President

Christopher Slaughter

52*

First Vice President

Keith Bradsher

44*

Bonnie E. Engel

Second Vice President

Correspondent Governors

Kevin Barry H. Egan

220*

Number of votes

Journalist Governors

Tony Munroe

40*

Andrew Stevens

48*

Mark Zavadskiy

45*

Francis Moriarty

71*

Jake Van Der Kamp

79*

John Batten

122

Peter P.f. Chan

Anthony Nedderman

Paul G. Bayfield

40*

Kate Pound Dawson

46*

Andrew Paul Chworowsky

179*

Matthew Cooper Driskill

43*

David P. Garcia

145*

Stephen Engle

Andrea Mackenzie

Ernst Herb

44*

David Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;rear

153*

Jim Laurie

Masaharu (Steve) Ushiyama

151*

Tom Mitchell

44*

Associate Governors

*Elected

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

Topâ&#x20AC;? Commissioner Lu and Frank Ching. Bottom: Ernst Herb and Hugh van Es.

Diplomatic Cocktails: FCC President Chris Slaughter and Commissioner Lu Xinhua

Top: Steve Ushiyama, Kate Pound Dawson and Bonnie Engel. Bottom: Names withheld.

Going strong at 63. Tim Page celebrates his birthday. Photo: Luke Hunt

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007

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Out of Context

Honourable Member

What members get up to when away from the Club

Jonathan Sharp talks to Angelo Paratico

he next time you bump into FCC member Angelo Paratico, remember to congratulate him: the Italian government has awarded Angelo the Stella Della Solidarietà Italiana, which can be translated as Star of the Italian Solidarity. The award was created after World War Two as a distinction bestowed on foreigners and Italians living overseas who help to rebuild the image and standing of Italy. And the delightful silver medal is no Gilbert and Sullivan trinket handed out by the truckload, although Angelo initially seems somewhat dismissive of the award. It enables him to put “Cavaliere” in front of his name, but then as he says, “There have been some many abuses of this title that if you use it, you will be immediately be classified as an ‘old fart’ and a ‘pompous ass’.” It seems that in Italy people love to have titles. Rag. (Ragioniere) means accountant, Geom. (Geometra) for surveyor, Ing. (Ingegnere) engineer, Avv. (Avvocato) lawyer, and Dott. (Dottore), doctor, which doesn’t mean you know how to cure the sick. Anybody with a university degree can call themselves Dott. – unless that is you really do have a medical degree, in which case in Rome you are called Signò, a shortened form of Mister. Quite simple, really. However, when pressed, Angelo reveals that he is intensely pleased with his award, of which only about a hundred are granted each year. “When they told me (about the award) I could not sleep. If my mother and

father were alive today, they would be very proud of me.” How did Angelo earn such a distinguished honour? At first, with typical modesty, he claims not to know. “There are legions of people in Asia who have deserved it more than me.” But he guesses: maybe the award was for his work for Secolo d’Italia, the small but influential Rome-based newspaper for which he writes a weekly column called Minima Orientalia, which translated from old Latin means Small Things from the Orient. Another achievement came in 2004 with the publication of his novel called Gli Assassini del Karma (The Karma Killers) which is set in Hong Kong and at the FCC before and dur-

ing the 1997 handover and refers by name to several of the Club’s more distinguished members. The book also covers the legend of what happened to Jesus Christ during his 18 years’ absence from the Gospel (He went to India and Tibet, the legend says). The book did not go beyond a first edition in Italy being, as Angelo says, somewhat right wing and politically incorrect. He recalls – with relish – an unkind review he received from Oliviero Diliberto, head of the hardline Italian Communists who read the book in three hours and told Angelo’s editor: “The story is thrilling but, politically speaking, he (Angelo) is just crazy.” Angelo’s response: “I wanted to use this definition as a promotional tool, since being called crazy by a madman means being a sort of Albert Einstein. But the editor refused.” But, again when pressed, Angelo says he suspects that the real reason for his award lies in the hard work that he and others have devoted to securing a significant change to the Italian constitution. Until recently, Italians living outside Italy could not vote in their homeland’s elections. Some 10 years ago Angelo joined a longstanding committee, which included members of parliament and eventually succeeded in winning the vote for expatriate Italians. Angelo can therefore justifiably say that he helped to win an important battle for democracy. Not bad for a supposed crazy person.

THE CORRESPONDENT may/june 2007