Westley family photo collection
Email/Comment, from Vanessa Westley:
Hi David,
My parents, Don and Jeanette Westley, were in the Sepik from 1957-1963. I was the 1st white child born, unexpectantly in the tiny village called Bainyik. My father was a school teacher there.
Roy and Toose Peters ran the Maprik Hotel when we were there. Don Coffey and Bruce Laws ran the trading store and the hiring of locals for the plantations and Father Mike Clerkin became a very dear friend. Other names were Bob Bunting and Stan Pegg and Don (Didiman)and Peggy Sheppard..
The people we knew at the Malaria Control Centre (where we went to often) were Dr Syzmiczeck(who delivered me), Dr John Hancock and wife Judy, Dr Becker (T.B Specialist) and his wife Sue, Dr Schofield and his wife Lorna, Dr Peter Mooney (who delivered my brother in Wewak) and Ian Lightfoot. John Neitz and Tas Hammerlsey were other teachers in the area. Elizabeth Burchill was a nurse there at the time and there were 3 local nurses named Betty 1, 2, and 3.
I was wondering if any of those names ring a bell to you? Love to know if they do.
Cheers,
Vanessa Westley
Mindless tree chopping around Wewak
Chopping trees down in Wewak
( Photo supplied by a concerned Wewak resident)
On a recent visit to Wewak, I was shocked to see that a number of beautiful rain trees had been cut down on the drive from Boram to town.
Apparently, from what I have heard, the powers to be, are at it again with tree cutting taking place along the southern boundary of the sports field (Prince Charles’ Oval).
I know there have been appeals made to the authorities to stop this mindless destruction of beautiful trees, but it appears that the cutting and hacking are to be continued.
What is it that the planning authorities in Wewak want to turn their town into – a hot dusty wasteland garnished with litter? It would seem to many people, that this is what they are doing.
On behalf of my many Wewak friends, I can only appeal to the Governor, Administrator and Town Commission, to immediately stop the destruction of the trees in Wewak.
It’s not too late, many trees can be saved!
Was Goya Henry the first to fly a plane under the Sydney Harbour Bridge?
I strongly suspect that he was the first to fly under the Harbour Bridge – a truly remarkable man and a friend. I’ll never forget the times with him travelling on the MV Thetis to Manam and other islands, and the wonderful conversations we had about pre-war Australian Aviation, Territory characters and others, Bill Tebb, a fellow small ship’s captain, classical literature, and matters medical – both our fathers were country GPs, the sinking of the Titanic, the law, and numerous other topics..
When he volunteered for the RAAF at the start of the war, a senior officer, previously trained to fly by Goya said to him: “they’ll never take you, Goya, first you’re not a Mason, not a Catholic, and you can fly a plane.” The official reason why he was not accepted was that he’d lost a leg.
The remarkable thing about the old PNG was that you were given the opportunity to sometimes meet people like Goya.
“The ramblings of a regretful old fool…”
The title of this post is taken from a comment left anonymously by one of my fans on my blog, so here are some more ramblings.
On his deathbed George V asked, “How is the Empire?” Our present Queen on her deathbed will be hardly able to ask such a question. Gough Whitlam, I suspect, on his deathbed, won’t ask, how is Papua New Guinea anymore than he’ll express any concerns for East Timor? However, I suspect, there will be a number of expats from the former Australian administrated PNG who on dying will have many thoughts about the former Trust Territory. For those of us who lived for sometime in PNG, the saying is apt, you can take the man or woman out of Papua New Guinea but you can’t take PNG out of them.
The uncanny attachment some Australians had and have for PNG came home to me many years ago when I used to listen to my late brother-in-law, Kevin Walls talking about his war experiences in the Territory. Kevin served in New Britain and the Sepik. As an officer with the Allied Intelligence Bureau in the Sepik, he was decorated with the MC. His regard for the native people was made obvious to me, together with the strong desire he had to make a return visit to the country, which unfortunately, he was never able to do. His regard for the country was a strong motivating factor for me to move there after I left school.
Dreams and thoughts about PNG and its people are an important part of my psyche. This is why I’m concerned that the Wewak Hospital hasn’t had a working X-ray for a number of months. I often think about Kami and his family. In the old terminolgy Kami was my mankimasta (domestic),and he looked after me for 13 years. He was famous in Angoram for his donkers - a mixture of flour and water fried in oil, and served with butter and jam. Kami came from Torembi Village and he’s buried there. His wife, Anna still lives there. Members of my old malaria control team often come to mind – William, Thomas. Henry, Abraham, John, to mention but a few. Gawa, Bopa, Potoman, Agri, and others I remember. The local medical staff at the Angoram Hospital were a credit to the Department of Health, men like Tobias, a senior medical orderly, who gave years of medical service to the community. I could go on mentioning many others, but I suppose there’s a limit to ramblings, but there’s no limit to my feelings about PNG.
As a “regretful old fool” I would like to end on a poetic note from Thomas Moore:
Oft, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber’s chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Funerals and reconciliation
I suspect in many societies a funeral is a time for families, friends and even enemies to get together and mourn the passing of someone. From the little bit I know about Australian Aboriginals and Filipinos, the concept of a funeral and reconciliation is a strong motivating factor that brings people together, whether they be friends or enemies, at the time of another’s death.
Some funerals don’t always attract such general agreement, and the attendance of all interested parties is by no means always guaranteed.
A friend of mine, Tom, in my old PNG days, often said about people who had died whom he didn’t like: “as far as I’m concerned, he was a bastard when he was alive and he’s a bastard now he’s dead.” Tom certainly didn’t agree with the idea that you should never speak ill of the dead, but he being a pragmatic Scot probably explained his down-to-earth attitude.
In our country funerals are public events, not only the invited may attend, but anyone else may come along. Of course, genuine mourners of a departed loved one are entitled to be concerned about who actually attends. The eulogies can be a point of concern. For the most part, those who speak at funerals carry the idea of never speaking ill of the dead to extremes, and what they say becomes mere platitudes, full of motherhood statements. My idea at a funeral is to send off the departed in a blaze of glory and truth, not necessarily by tipping a bucket on anyone unless it’s well and truly deserved.
Tom Hughes QC in his eulogy at the state memorial service for John Gorton certainly spoke well of the dead, but he gave a serve to the living in the person of Malcolm Fraser, and I think he was entitled to say what he thought, in the interests of the dead Gorton, for he came to praise Gorton and to bury him.
All of this reminds me of a rather little ludicrous series of events that came to my notice recently. A person, be he nameless, had a sister, from whom he had been estranged for many years, and this sister’s husband died. In the interests of some real concern and reconciliation the said individual rang his sister to offer his condolences. You might be tempted to applaud him for this, but as things worked out, it would appear his sister didn’t take too kindly to his overture. Some days after a brother rang him questioning if he intended to go to the funeral, and make a speech, and informing him, that his sister and a niece were most concerned about this, and in so many words telling him to stay away. This, for him, only added insult to injury as he had no intention, given the feeling he knew his sister had for him, of going to the funeral. It should be stated here, that he did have a reputation for making quite notable and forthright eulogies at family funerals. It all goes to prove that funerals, families, and reconciliation don’t always go together.
Perhaps we should all follow the good book and:”Let the dead bury their dead.”
Lois Berenyi writes candidly
This is written by Lois Berenyi. She has done a lot of research on Mary Dithlefsen, her great aunt, who married Victor de Berigny in 1895. Victor was my mother’s uncle, and Victor and Mary were the parents of Charles de Berigny, who was killed during the First World War. See:
Hi David
I found your post interesting as it relates to faith and belief (not necessarily the same thing in my mind). I don’t know if my remarks are relevant to your blog but if you think they are I don’t mind if they are posted.
For background I went to the Baptist church as a young person. My mother’s family had been Catholic until the nuns beat my mother as a child for being late to school and the family suddenly became Episcopalians. My mother’s mother had gone to San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake on a Catholic mission. Mary’s mother had gone to Japan on a Protestant mission and then she converted to Christian Science and upset a lot of apple carts according to family history.
My husband is a fallen Catholic. Neither one of us attends any church nor do my children. I now live in the land of religious intolerance although there is a Baptist church on every corner.
I didn’t pay much attention when I first moved here 8 years ago (from New Jersey to North Carolina) because in the north people didn’t tend to wear their religion on their sleeve and we had many ethnic groups and many religions and the Protestants were conservative and quiet. To my recollection I don’t recall strangers asking me what church I belonged to. The only things that stand out in my mind from that time 50 years ago is that if the Catholic kids came to our youth group they had to confess they were in a Baptist church and one girl with a “reputation” felt her behavior was o.k. because she could confess to the priest.
Lately because of local influences and our national political dialogue I’ve been thinking about the subject a lot. For starters a lot of the Southern Baptists I’ve met (or been forced to meet in supermarkets, post offices etc. where I’m asked if I am a Christian!) do not think Catholics are Christians. We don’t have a large Jewish population so don’t know what they think about them but they are worried about getting a Mormon president. The hypocrisy on display would be amusing if it was not frightening.
We are bombarded with religious quotes on the side of plumber’s trucks, a bible open on the desk of a prominent businessman rightfully accused of fraud and so on. Our presidential candidates being Republicans (keep government out of our business) have no qualms about government in our bedrooms. Taken to the extreme we could have our own version of the Taliban.
Personally I think everyone is entitled to their own faith and beliefs from which they gain solace. I do not believe they have the right to impose their beliefs as the only valid and authentic one. I worked for a veterinarian who believed as the Native Americans did that God was in the earth, trees and clouds. I know people here who play golf on Sunday and feel that is where God is. In fact on a funny note one of our more vocal Born Agains designed our golf course and openly declares without irony or any other inflection that God told him where to put the bunkers and teeboxes. God also tells him where the deer are hiding when he hunts. I had a house painter once I dubbed the Holy Roller who treated me to a sermon on being “Born Again” everytime we met. I learned to avoid him.
My own personal belief is that if there is a God he/she is in all of us. It’s the “spirit” that shows us the right way. If a person doesn’t have it it won’t be found in a building or a temple or the Vatican. The more organized religion gets the more dangerous it is to those to think differently.
I believe in the inherent goodness of people even when they don’t always act that way. I also believe in Evil as well in those who do not have any grace and totally lack the concept of any sort of morality. This sounds “religious” but it doesn’t need a label and a 10% tithe to be authentic.
My own recent experience of basically receiving a death sentence in early 2011 gave me reason to reflect on the subject a lot. In the fall of 2010 a blood test showed that tumor markers had increased after being normal for the 10 years since I had breast cancer in 2001. However scans showed enlarged lymph nodes but no visible tumors. Various biopsies came back suspicious but inconclusive. This went on for 6 months where I received no treatment because they didn’t know what kind of cancer it was. In March a procedure came up with cancer cells on the pancreas and things took a serious turn. I knew the usual survival rate ranged from a couple of months to a year. I had a young optimistic oncologist who refused to tell me what stage I was at or even how bad it was. I had no symptoms, no pain and even in his opinion thought I looked as if I were in my 50’s instead of being 71. (My irreverent thought was I’d be a good-looking corpse). I did start chemo for pancreatic cancer and pretty much thought about whether to continue treatment for a hopeless condition or live more comfortably with what I had. After a couple of months there was slight improvement but I was having a bad reaction to the drug so it was changed to one used for colon cancer. Suddenly I showed great improvement both in the scans and bloodtests but I was having mental problems with being treated at all. I felt ungrateful and finally that drug ran its course when it caused neuropathy (numbness) in my hands and feet. So now I am on an oral pill, in a much better state of mind, and according to latest tests am almost cancer-free or at least in a condition where it will be treated like a chronic disease similar to diabetes.
While contemplating death the one thought that would come to me, usually at night when the reality would creep into my brain, was whether I would meet all those people I’d been researching so intensively. Would I meet my mother and tell her of what I had found, of what she had been looking for…..or would they all be there with her. Strange thoughts but I sometimes think there must be a reason. When my mother was in the hospital with a stroke she kept insisting my father was there (who was dead 20 years) so sometimes I think our connections stay with us.
I never felt Death was final. What a waste of time and material! Our bodies become compost but I think our spirits, both ephemeral and spiritual continue on maybe reappearing in a new descendent (amazing how much Bob is like the grandfather he never met). Likewise the discoveryI made recently about Mary de Berigny, my great aunt, when I received her death certificate from the National Archives. She died in 1949 at the age of 71 of cancer of the right breast. My breast cancer was in same location and I was 71 when I found this out. How long she was sick I do not know. She was a Christian Scientist at the time and probably did not seek whatever mainstream medical treatment was available.
And, David, as noted in your blog… In the unlikely event you predecease me do let me know if your relatives are there. I still have some questions.
Lois
Thoughts at the start of a new year, and reflections on the past
I, like my great friend, the Commander, like my coffee to be of the instant variety – none of this percolated type for us. The Commander always asks for an instant coffee even in the most fashionable restaurants, and he often gets a response like this: “where were you dragged up, in a prison?” I’m really a tea drinker and I like my tea of the straight kind – none of the likes of the scented and organic brands for me. As regards fish, always give me tins rather than fresh. My taste in biscuits, runs to Saos, and I like butter, not margarine.
By this stage you’ve a fair idea of what type of bloke I am. You might well ask, how do you like your women? To a question like this I refuse to give an answer, but I will say that variety is the spice of life.
One of my saddest times during 2011 was when I heard of the demise of the Dear Leader, Kim Jong-il. I was only sustained in this time of grief when I heard that he was to be succeeded by his son, Kim Jong-un, the Great Successor.
I didn’t quite know what to think of the events in Papua New Guinea about Mr Peter O’Neill replacing the Father of the Nation, Sir Michael Somare, as Prime Minister. Could he be called a Great Successor ? I wonder if Kevin Rudd would see Julia Gillard as a Great Successor. Mr Howard now has his Order of Merit, perhaps Sir Michael might also get an Order of Merit. In a strange historical way I see something about PNG, and the Order of Merit. Gilbert Murray, the Australian classical scholar, received an Order of Merit, and he had a brother, Hubert, who was the Lieutenant-Governor of Papua. Does this create some sort of association of the Order with PNG? I can hear you say, “I think not”.
It has been suggested that I write another book, particularly by John, a Premillennialist awaiting the Parousia – his book is also in the pipeline, but alas, his coming book and mine might be akin to the Second Coming.
Cedric, another friend of mine, a legend in his own time – a dynamic educator in PNG, and now an energetic helper in WA of his Aboriginal brothers and sisters. He was always and still is a man of action.
The good news is that yang Pita from Wewak appears to have conquered bowel cancer, and he’s set to embark on greater things.
In my own house I’m surrounded by academics – two Filipinos doing PhDs – Deborah and Shirlita. Augustus, while not living here, is in a theological and philosophical frame of mind – perhaps, for him, the Second Coming has happened! Andrei, his brother, it is possible, has made a bob.
No doubt, during the past year, and in this the future one, the spirit has, and will move all of us – we are all spiritual beings. It never ceases to amaze me as many people seem to lose belief in more orthodox faiths, they seem increasingly to believe in anything. The New Age and its various offshoots become sources of the most outlandish so-called spititual ideas and beliefs. The new Atheism peddled by the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens (no longer by Christopher) has little appeal for me, but many seem to like it.
It was an interesting and refreshing experience to talk with Fr Kerley the other day about his experiences in living in Bougainville during its crisis years. I somehow think that if I were in trouble in the streets of Calcutta or in war torn Bougainville, I would have much rather run into Mother Teresa or Fr Kerley than either Dawkins or Hitchens – what you would want is hands- on- help not a talk about the non-existence of God, but then again, who is to know. I once wrote to Phillip Adams, and told him that if I died before him, I’d let him know what there was to the afterlife, if anything. He suggested that I contact him by means of a ouija board. Such are the mysteries of life and death, but for me faith is always linked to hope and rationalised by charity.
I’ll end by saying, Deborah is in her loft working away on her PhD, Augustus is turning to AJ, or is he? Maybe not! I’m seeking my way in different ways, Andrei boy is reflecting on property, Caitilin is finding spirituality in Aboriginal art, Beng is working in the dungeon, but life and death goes on in spite of whatever we do, even if Belo does his seat work. God’s in His heaven – or we hope He is. I have faith that He is because there’s more love than hate in this world – I’m not saying all’s right with the world, but a good bit is. Anyhow, God maybe She, and if so, She is in Her heaven, so there you are!
On that note, I’ll end by wishing all friends and enemies a Happy New Year!
Meeting up with Fr Kevin Kerley SM at Villa Maria, Hunters Hill, 4th January 2012
Fr Kerley & Mr Bowers
What an engaging and informative experience it was for me to meet up with Fr Kevin in the company of my old friend, John Bowers, and to be introduced to Fr Bob Barber, Fr Gerard Arbuckle, and other members of the community at a luncheon beautifully prepared by the kitchen staff.
Before and after lunch it was fascinating to hear something of Fr Kevin’s experiences in Bougainville during its crisis years. He has recently been accepted as a member of the Australian Peacekeeper & Peacemaker Veterans’ Association. At age 83, he continues to work on his memoirs and he’s made available accounts of his life in Bougainville to academic institutions.
Fr Kevin has a deep interest in Australian military history. His brother was a WW II veteran, and Kevin has made a study of the Pacific War.
John Bowers, a Sandhurst man, ex-British Army, and former PNG Patrol Officer, Special Branch Officer, and Judge’s Associate, with Kevin, shares an abiding interest in military history.
The topics discussed ranged from aspects of the Hegelian dialectic, terror and intimidation to survival of non-combatants in war areas. Fr Kevin’s Bougainville situation during the crisis years, in the middle as it were, between the Bougainville Revolutionary Army, and the PNG Police and Defence Forces, all in the mix, with his dedication to his parishioners and other local villagers, makes one realize the complexity of the circumstances he was in.
Both John’s and Kevin’s insights into the Malayan Emergency, Communist Insurgency War, guerrilla warfare and other aspects of military history, with the comments Kevin made about many famous and infamous wartime personalities, made for intelligent and informative conversation.
To talk with a man like Fr Kevin Kerley, and share his unique experiences, made a enjoyable and worthwhile day for me.
The Reverend John Spender and the Rapture
Last month I was fortunate to run into the Reverend John Spender at Mascot Airport prior to him catching a plane to New York. John is the esteemed brother of Sir Ernest Spender, a person well known to the readers of this blog.
The Reverend John Spender ministers to a small congregation of members of the Free Independent Apostolic Baptist Church in Bridgeport, Jackson County, Alabama, and is on a world-wide mission preaching the Second Coming and Rapture of the Lord to all willing to hear him.
In appearance John is not unlike his brother, and like Ernest, he is an old boy of Charterhouse, however, with the years he has lived in the States, he has largely lost his public school accent and now speaks in tones distinctly Southern States American. Reverend John is a man of middle height, thick set and energetic, all in all a formidable and impressive person.
I was anxious to get as much as I could from John about his Second Coming beliefs, but given the extreme limitations of time we both realized that my interview would only allow a superficial discussion. I had only about twenty minutes with him before he had to catch his plane.
David Wall: Rev. John, do you mind if I call you John?
Rev. John : Call me anything as long as you don’t forget to call me when you hear the trumpet of the Lord.
David: What makes you think I’ll hear it and not you?
John: Very true, David, all believers shall hear it and I can see that you are a believer.
David: Thank you, John. But are the Rapture and the Second Coming biblical? I guess they are one and the same.
John: Yes. It is true that the Bible does not mention the word Rapture but the word Parousia or catch up is there. The sounds of the Parousia are clearly mentioned in 1 Thessalonians 4:16, “The Lord will descend with a shout.” The first sound is directed to the saints. In the second sound we hear the voice of the archangel and old Satan will know this. The third sound will be that of a trumpet, a summons for all sinners.
David: No doubt you would call yourself a Premillennialist and what I want to know in particular is do you follow the dispensationalist interpretation of scripture?
John: David, I won’t be labelled but what I will say is that the Rapture is a doctrine of the early Church fathers and the New Testament. The eschatology of the early Church held that the coming of the Lord precedes and introduces the millennium. Irenaeus taught this years before Origen and Augustine put forward their amillennialism. In John 14:20-21 the Lord tells us that He will come again.
David: John, can you put a timing on the Rapture and the Coming of the Lord?
John: As I said earlier, I won’t be labelled. The time factors are unimportant. Questions about if it is imminent or not can only be answered with reference to scripture, while taking into account the Pre-Tribulation. I’ll give you two references, Ezekiel 38 and Thessalonians 2 as pre-conditional circumstances that must occur before the Lord returns. There will be peace in Israel and a great falling away with the coming of the AntiChrist.
We know that there is not peace in Israel yet, but think about the amillennial position of all the major churches. Their eschatology is fundamentally false, so you can imagine what this does to their doctrine. In this very city of Sydney, Anglican Archbishop Peter Jensen, claims to be a biblical Christian while holding an amillennial position, and of course, an amillennial eschatology is the doctrine of the Roman Church upheld by Cardinal George Pell. From this false eschatological stance the mainline churches have all gone on to support the false theory of evolution. You might well see this as a great falling away.
(As we were talking there was a call for all passengers on United Airways flight 702 to New York to go to customs. This was John’s plane, so he had to leave.)
David: John, thank you so much but just two last questions: do you have any contact with Sir Ernest, your brother, and I’ve often wondered why you, who anyone can see, is a healthy red-blooded male, is still living in the single state?
John; Ernest, as you know has chosen a New-Age philosophy, and way of life, essentially a luciferian path to darkness. I don’t know if you have been to Berlin but if you go there just ask where the Seat of Satan is. I pray for Ernest. You ask why I’m still unmarried. Well the short answer is that I’ve dedicated my life to the Lord in expectation of His Second Coming. A union with a good Christian woman is a holy state for most believers, but like the Lord Himself I have chosen his way. David, it’s been great our little chat, but I must away.
David: John, Godspeed.
(With this John bounded off and I couldn’t help thinking how lucky the parishioners of his church back in Alabama were to have such a pastor.)
Free online copy of Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk!
A critique that is a fair measure of the book.
Just send me your email address in ‘comment’ and I’ll send you an online copy.
Oh, for an intentional community!
What I’m looking for is an intentional community of the Roman and Catholic persuasion in the inner city of Sydney, where I can worship and be a part of a community of faithful who exemplifies the defining aspects of a dynamic church: the church militant, the church suffering and the church triumphant.
I want a parish church where there is an open conflict between the parish priest and the congregation, with no clear guidelines as to, who is actually conducting the weekly Mass. Let there be long-winded dissertations and outpourings by congregation members when the time comes for prayers of the faithful; and as for the sign of peace, anything less than chaos, as people move around the church, kissing, hugging and shaking hands would be unacceptable. The pastor must wait patiently while these expressions of love are taking place. With a bit of luck, he might not even turn up for next week’s Mass and leave the faithful entirely to their own devices.
The community I want is one dedicated to the first Australians; be they functional or dysfunctional, the more dysfunctional the better. The call for “any change brother” would be like music to the ears of the parishioners, especially if the hard word is put on one during the consecration at Mass. The advisability of keeping one’s possessions close especially when going to communion need not be stated. The spirituality of those moving about the church must be a known fact and not open to question.
I like the idea of putting items of supposed sacredness on the altar without reference to the pastor; what would he know anyhow?
I want a priest who says very little about social justice and a lot about sin and damnation. I want a parish that has a fierce and ongoing memory of a past charismatic pastor and wants to preserve this at all costs; one that moves with the times but is stuck in time. It would be energizing if during Mass someone jumps up and informs all about a television service that impressed him or her and is far better than the present one.
The parish that I want must be militant, triumphant and suffering and I put to my readers, is there such a parish?
One might accuse me of looking for drama rather than spirituality, and this might be right, but please protect me from the insipid and dull and let me grow in the excitement and exuberance of a truly intentional community.
The phone rings!
The phone rang at four in the morning and I thought to myself, ‘who the hell is that? Maybe it will stop ringing and I can go back to sleep.’ But it didn’t and I had to answer it:
Hello and a vaguely familiar voice answered: James here, I thought I’d better get in touch. I’ve been away for a while and I want to catch up. In my still sleepy half conscious state it came to me that I’d not heard James’s voice for years. Well he went on: I’ve been about quite a bit since I left and I’ve run into some interesting people. Dad and Mum are fine. Joan said that if I meet you to say she is thinking about you.
By this time I was wide-awake and I was starting to think that the voice sounds just like James or Fells as we used to call him; but could it be? Fells, where are you now? He answered: I’m half way to Canberra from Melbourne; Uncle and Auntie asked me to check on something they left in Merton. Which I’ve done and I now want to get to Canberra and fill Geraldine in about a few things. What was it you had to check on in Merton? I asked him. Oh, it was just a pigskin sidesaddle that Em was worried about.
Em was our great-aunt and the toast of Melbourne as a horsewoman but when was this, I wondered. Merton, the family house in Brighton had long since gone. So I said: Fells, you’re not making any sense. Oh, yes, I am, it’s all in the poetry of essence, which you’ll know about eventually.
By this time the conversation with my brother, James, was taking on a surreal character and I didn’t know why. I said to him: Where exactly have you been and how is it that you saw Mum and Dad? He answered: Well, I’ll tell you. When you are completely free you can see and meet whom you like. You know our great grandfather, Thomas Mason, the one who lost his finger, he wasn’t too pleased when he heard about the photo of him being burnt. Mum’s brother, Reg, is still into growth and he told me he has more money than he knows what to do with.
You can’t tell me, James, that you have spoken to all these people. The next thing you’ll be telling me is that you have spoken to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Without any hesitation he answered: Yes, I have. You can’t avoid them! To which I said: So, there are three of them? No, he said. But I can’t expect you to understand that. To help you, I can tell you that the power is as one.
By this time I was inclined to agree that the moon was made of cheese and that pigs can fly, but then James came out with a long dissertation-like flow of rhetoric:
David, imagine you are in a state where you don’t need to know anything. Every question you may care to ask has been answered. You know that almost everything you been told before is at best incomplete. You remember my book? What do we know, what can we believe? Well I can now tell you, sweet bugger all. It’s not that everything is wrong but all people with their closed minds can’t see the forest for the trees and they can’t see the trees for the woods. You’re not on the red? I asked. No way! There’s no time. I’ve met hundreds of people who have come into their own. Like poor little kids from the slums of the world, the aborted and the mistreated, and many others.
Was Fells some sort of an oracle? Before he left I always thought that he was the most intelligent one in the family and his years away could have only improved his mind, or that is what I figured. I asked him had he spoken to our father lately. Oh, yes, I saw him speaking to Hilaire Belloc recently. Belloc seems more than ever convinced that he was right many years ago when he wrote:”The Faith is Europe. And Europe is the Faith.” The Faith is, of course, the Catholic Church. And Europe must return to it or “perish” You can imagine that Dad would have been in complete agreement with this though their ideas on the Faith are not so defined these days. Oh, I almost forgot to tell that your houseboy, Kami, from Papua New Guinea wondered how you were. He was telling me he had received a lot of credit for the thousands of cups of tea he had made for you. Anyhow, he’s doing well now. But he is a bit worried about his family in Torembi, a village in the Sepik. While talking about the Sepik; our brother-in-law, Kevin was telling me about those Indian prisoners of the Japanese that he rescued in 1945. He has run into most of them around here and they were very pleased to see him.
James, what do you mean by around here’? He answered: Here is here and there is there and around here is something of little importance.
He might think that but to me it was very important as I was trying to focus on a context of persons and places in the drift of our conversation. I left this as it were and went on talking: I suppose you’ve heard about Caitilin getting a PhD. Caitilin is James’s daughter. You don’t say, David. I knew she always had it in her to do well. Talking about degrees; Reg Morrison, you know the brother of Morrison of Peking, told me that he was most upset when he heard in the twenties that Melbourne University had not granted Dad an MD. Fortune does not always favour the deserved.
James asked me about his sons, Dominic and Jamie and I was able to tell him that they are doing well. I then mentioned that, Geraldine, his wife had been missing him over the past years. He then said: We’ll all be together eventually. I then went on to tell him that at least he could have made a greater effort to keep contact but I suppose he had his reasons:
I certainly have my reasons. You be interested to hear what our sister Madie’s husband, Knut, had to say about the family situation. According to him he didn’t want any split in the family but for him things were so hard to handle s0 he more or less left it to Madie. The truth of the matter or otherwise no longer seemed to count. And it seemed easier not to talk about it. Sufficient to say on the matter is that he now regrets many things and is very sorry.
I told James about my family, sons, Andrei and David Augustus. Andrei teaching in Kuwait and Augustus writing a fancy story that has great promise. Deborah, my wife, is still very interested in social research into race and identify, especially of Aboriginal and Filipino people. James then told me that he had recently spoken to Charlie Perkins and exchanged stories about the old days in Canberra. Charlie said that he knows that a lot more work needs to be done for his brothers and sisters and by them but some good things had happened. He was heartened by the election of a black president in the USA.
Do you have any regrets about leaving, James? He answered: I didn’t have much choice about it, if you will recall. But as things have worked out it was all for the best. That film, “The Passion”, we saw together, you know Mel Gibson’s, in a funny way prepared me to leave. John Henry Newman and Augustine were quite complimentary about it. The Lord just smiled when it was mentioned.
Now I knew that James must have lost it. One does not just run into Newman, Augustine and the Lord. Fells, if you’re not on the red, you must be stoned. He came back and said: In a funny way you are right if stoned explains a heightened sense of awareness. You are limited by time and space, so all that has been is out of your reach. Why do you think it strange for me to meet people? I let this pass and just went on listening and talking.
I have to tell you about something great. Joan, our sister, Kevin, her husband and Adrienne are so happy together. They no longer get headaches. They want to be remembered to all their loved ones: Sarah, Becky, and Elaine’s family. Thienette de Berigny,our great grandfather, has a homoeopathic remedy for Sarah’s medical problem. He hopes to visit her soon and dispense some sort of mixture. Mum and all of us around here know that ‘The price of wisdom is above rubies.” Even Aunt Connie agrees with this.
By this time the Bard’s thoughts came to me: “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.” By the way, James, while you’ve been away I wrote a novel: “Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk”. Not much really but I enjoyed writing it. Some expats from PNG like it. Well, that’s good, David. You always liked PNG.
I looked at the clock, it was 4:30. We had been speaking for half an hour. I was reluctant to put the phone down. James when can we meet up? You say you are on your way to Canberra. Sydney isn’t far from from Canberra. And then he said a strange thing: Distance has nothing to do with time and space. It’s really important to give your heart to others. By helping others, you help yourself. We’ll meet up soon enough, maybe sooner than you think. A lot of my friends regret not living better lives while they had the chance.
James, you’ve been away for over four years; have you given your heart away and have you seen any women you fancy? David, life begins in your seventies but the answer is no. But I did recently talk with Margaret More, you know Thomas More’s daughter.
Now wait a minute, James, what are you on about? Do you mean Henry VIII and all that? Yes, yes, yes, that’s what I mean. All right, I suppose the next thing you’ll tell is that she gave her father’s side of the story. He than went on to say what Margaret had said. Her father really had no choice in the matter. He understood the dictates of his conscience. But his conscience was formed by considering the whole of Christendom; The King’s good servant, but God’s first. We don’t see much of Henry or Rich around here. He said.
I thought to myself; let him go on there is a bit of sense here but he is the first person I know who has spoken the Thomas More’s daughter.
Suddenly I became aware that I was watching television; someone was talking about Hillary Clinton and a new diplomacy on the Middle East. I realized that I must have been sleeping and on the table near me I noticed some writing in a journal: “James de Berigny Wall (1929-2004) The editor wishes to apologise that this important obituary was overlooked in 2004.”
The Reverend John Spender makes himself available to anxious intentional communities
It recently came to my notice that Rev John can be called on by needy intentional religious communities. To ascertain the qualities of this man, I dug up an interview he gave me sometime ago. (See a previous post)
Overseas recipients of the pension bonus
Some even felt stimulated enough to spend it here
Not all foreigners splurged overseas with their pension bonus (“Thousands of foreigners splurge stimulus overseas,” March 12). My friend, a New Zealander, had a holiday in Sydney and Canberra with his part of the stimulus package and also spent considerably more while here. Maybe many thousands of other overseas recipients did the same thing.
David Wall Newtown
If Barbara Tokley of New Zealand knew she wasn’t entitled to the $1400 she received by mistake as part of the Australian Government stimulus package, why didn’t she return the money? It’s called stealing where I come from.
Trish Wiltshire Worrigee
I don’t care how much the Kiwis have been receiving from us in pensions. Ruth Park, originally from New Zealand, her husband D’Arcy Niland and their warm, talented family have repaid in spades! Vale, Kilmeny Niland.
Robyn Cashman Fernhill
Sydney Morning Herald 13/03/09
Pax Australis: the return of the Raj!
.Photograph: courtesy Mrs Johnson
Monsignor Quixote – DVD
” Sir Alec Guiness stars with Leo McKern in the story of a friendship between a Catholic priest and a Communist Mayor. Together they travel from their remote village to Madrid and back exploring their friendship. the demands of belief and constancy of faith.
“This lavish production filmed entirely on location captures the wit, warmth and vitality that make the original novel by Graham Greene a unique work of literature.” (Blurb on DVD cover)
This review is from: Monsignor Quixote [DVD] [1985] (DVD) “Simply one of the most enjoyable and beautiful films you will see. Its very simple, two actors Alec Guiness and Leo McKern, showing you what they can do. It’s one of the last pieces of work completed by Guiness before his death. I saw this gentle, simple film some 20 years ago and loved every minute and finally decided to buy it on DVD.
“They don’t seem to make films like this any more unless its an independent production. Its one of the last films which focuses on the talent and makes the best of it on a wonderful Graham Greene novel.”
By Frank Bierbrauer
I can’t recommend this production too strongly!
See:
http://www.westcoastcompanions.org/jgc/2.1/rami_porta.engtext.htm
Dr A.D. Parkinson
Photos from David Parkinson’s Collection
Arthur David Parkinson 1935-2009
Always known as David rather than Arthur, his untimely death ends a life of service and dedication. He first came to Papua New Guinea in 1956 as a Medical Assistant or in the terminology of the time an EMA – European Medical Assistant. These young men and some not so young were the frontline medical providers in much of PNG in those days.
David did extensive medical patrols in the Sepik and the Highlands. He subsequently attended the University of Adelaide qualifying in Medicine and Surgery, and he returned to PNG working as a Medical Officer and eventually Assistant Director, Malaria Control.
After leaving PNG in the late 1970s, he did post-graduate studies in the UK and afterwards worked for WHO in the Solomon Islands and Samoa. In Australia, he joined the army and worked in a Malaria Research Unit with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. For the last years of his life, he was in general practice in the Western Suburbs of Sydney.
At his funeral service, Michael, his son, spoke of his father’s humanity in a varied career of service to others. Over the years, David’s contribution to the health of others has been immense. The people of PNG have particularly lost a true friend and benefactor.
David’s first wife, Ruth, predeceased him and he is survived by their children, Michael, Fiona and Jamie. His wife, Vaiola and their children, Nathan, Ricky, Tanya, Corian and two grandchildren, Charley and Georgie survive him.
Mr Alwyn Davies Weds Miss Barbara Wilson, Angoram, 1956
Barbara’s daughter, Tanya, wrote: “I was talking to my mother… she said the jeep was built by a man in Angoram by salvaging scraps left in the jungle by the war, and then he spray painted it silver. My mom … was a real adventurer for a woman of her day. She has the most fantastic stories about being out on the Sepik for days at a time. One of the ministers who came to Angoram for the service apparently never made it back. He fell overboard and never surfaced.”
Barbara mentioned that it was Sepik Robbie who put the jeep together.
Mr Peter Johnson Reports on the Deplorable Financial Situation at the Wewak Yacht Club
PLUNDER OF PM’S CLUB
At an annual general meeting of the Wewak Yacht Club on 28 March, the Commodore, Mr Jack Matthews, told members that theft and irregularities had been reported to the police, and that “police would investigate after the arrival of a new PPC.”
It has been claimed that up to K1.2 million has been lost or stolen from the Wewak Yacht Club of which Prime Minister Sir Michael Somare is patron, and at which he frequently entertains visiting dignitaries. Sir Michael is said to be much distressed with the current situation.
In his report to members, Mr Matthews said “some members owe the club money…and have behaved in a deceitful manner!” We have no records to pursue this matter, as the former manager, Mr Christopher Liversidge, had reported the club’s two computers recently stolen, he said, the Club Honorary Treasurer, Mr Glen Williamson, resigned from his position after only two or three months service. He cited “difference of opinion with some senior committee members” as reason for his early departure.
One long-time member told Post-Courier that the club had annual takings of approximately K1 million. Gross profits over the past three years had been 14%, 4% and a loss in 2008/09. This was indicative of annual cash deficiencies of K260,000, K360,000 and perhaps K500,000. (Greater losses than last year’s big bank robberies!)
The Commodore said the Wewak Yacht Club owes the Internal Revenue Commission K56,000 and K57,000 to local traders… the Club has K2,117.09 cash on hand! “I have no financial report, no treasurer’s report or auditor’s report to present to you!” said Mr. Matthews.
Stunned members voted to return an unchanged committee for a further three month period to allow for investigations, administrative and management upgrades and proper reporting to members on 27 June, 2009…a “bar-fly” is said to have retorted, “and by that time someone should be in Boram kalabus!”
“As things fall apart” by Dave Tacon
http://www.theage.com.au/world/as-things-fall-apart-20090703-d7to.html?page=1
Worth reading!
Ralf Stuttgen’s Views and Perceptions
On my recent visit to Papua New Guinea I had some far-reaching discussions with my friend, Ralf Stuttgen. Ralf has many interesting and discerning points of view which are worth airing in the hope that they can be commented on and further discussed by others.
Our conversations ranged over theological, philosophical, educational and environmental questions and were tackled uniquely and insightfully by Ralf.
Here are his views:
Who and what is God? Any definition of God cannot be divorced from our material existence and humanity’s system of values. Fundamentally God is love and with this concept in mind no one with values is essentially an atheistic according to Ralf. By a stretch of the imagination most, I guess, could accept a principal power and reality in the universe named God or something else. Theological definitions must continually be refined and explained in modern terms. Objective truth is not just a question of what is right and what is wrong.
Symbol and myth reveal and divulge theological and ethical truths. Virginity is a symbol of divine wisdom and life is like the rising dawn. There is no doubt in Ralf’s mind that the essence of the Christian message is fundamentally sound, but the interpretation of the message needs to be refined and updated.
Ralf looks at sin and an appropriate definition; Sin is any act where the damage is greater than the advantages. I suppose in a sense the end justifies the means. All acts have good and bad potentials. Untruths and lies are always involved with sin and the suppression of information. An ill-informed conscience cannot be an arbitrator of good and evil.
Science fiction can be a useful tool for awakening future generations to development possibilities for in this genre humankind looks at the desirable and the possible.
On the broad question of the economy, education and development Ralf continually stresses the primary importance of quality education. Any country without an educated population is doomed to a state of undevelopment. Even a state without abundant natural resources but with an educated population has the capacity for significant economic development, look at the South Korean economic miracle and compare this with Papua New Guinea, a country with vast natural resources and a seemingly inability to lift the standard of living for its population. Over the past thirty years or so South Korea has put in place a vibrant education and training programme throughout the country, whereas in PNG the state of education at all levels: primary, secondary, tertiary and technical training is at best poor and only available to a small percent of the population. The result being that South Korea exports the products of a technically advanced economy with vast returns to its educated and well governed population, whereas PNG is increasingly becoming a land that is largely being exploited for its resources by others. The country is plagued with inappropriate and destructive resource exploitation with little return to its people in general. One need only look at the logging and mining industries and the environmental hazards they are creating. Corrupt officials and politicians and overseas companies get their rewards but the uneducated masses get comparatively nothing. One example of poor governance and supervision in PNG is that 60% of the gold extracted from the country is exported illegally. This means that the state gets nothing for this valuable resource.
Ralf is emphatic in his assertion that education is the solution to all the world’s problems.
Doing it right – Success Doing it wrong – No Success
Education will improve public health. The most common cause of death is stupidity.
Education will protect the environment, stupidity leads to the killing of wildlife and even over-population. Governments must improve their education systems before they improve their health services. In British India the health services were better than the education services; result over-population.
Education, Research and the Future
Our biological, genetic and evolutionary future is tied up with education and new ideas.Let us look at some problems with new insights: Is Western Agriculture appropriate in undeveloped countries? Not always as it requires deforestation; more research is needed into methods of growing food. Humankind should be able to live off trees. The whole world could be covered with trees. Trees are a great source of starch and more research is needed to fully utilize them as food. Sensible conservation will protect the jungles of the world. In the past in PNG when the kunai grasslands were protected from burning it was noticed that the jungle trees come back. It is true to say our scientists need a broader education.
General reflections
Who does the Development Bank develop? Answer: The Development Bank. Only take out a loan when land and labour are there with future prospects to guarantee success. Look at the bind the West New Britain oil palm small holders are in trying to repay the Development Bank.
Indigenous people at least should be guaranteed health, fresh air and natural conditions.The reality is that indigenous people must adapt or vanish.The laws of evolution are there. In North America some indigenous people were known as little heads because of their small brain size. Presumably the evolutionary process had past them by. We must face the fact that some genes become outdated Will we in the future condone and allow some form of genetic engineering?
What was the principal cause of the fall of the Roman Empire? The Roman State did not have a Department of Education as an institution preserving and passing on knowledge to future generations.
Global warming has been going on for years, markedly since AD 400. Development and education are historically intertwined with changes of climate.
We must all learn to manage our health. Sleep is the most important anti-malarial. In the future humankind must learn to eat different foods.
The attempt to commercialize the production of sago in the Sepik will be a disaster. The keeping of cattle and wet rice growing are inappropriate as agricultural ventures in PNG as tasks associated with these endeavours are foreign to the people.
Managing rubbish is a problem for PNG towns and cities.
What is a Jew? Ralf looks at this broadly: There are ethnic Jews and theological Jews. Ethic Jews are those with a racial connection to Israel and theological Jews are all people of good will. This is in accord with God’s promise to Abraham:
Your descendants shall be as numerous as the stars in heaven. Your descendants will be as numerous as the sand on the seashore.
The ideas of a better world are not exclusively Jewish but also come from other ancient people such as the Persians and Egyptians. The big question was and is just how to achieve a better world? The answer will come from the chosen people who are all people of good will.
Visual Memories
Dave Wall at Kekten Village
Bill Eichhorn at home on the banks of the Keram River
Michael Somare at the start of the Sepik Ironman Events
Peter Johnson at Ralf's Place
Eva Waramapi, formerly Ipa, Angoram, 2009
“A language of Papua New Guinea”
Angoram
A language of Papua New Guinea
| Population | 8,220 (2003 SIL). |
| Region | East Sepik Province, lower Sepik River area, Angoram District. |
| Language map | Papua New Guinea, Map 4, reference number 161 |
| Alternate names | Olem, Pondo, Tjimundo |
| Classification | Ramu-Lower Sepik, Lower Sepik, Angoram |
| Language use | Also use Tok Pisin [tpi]. |
Ion L. Idriess, c. 1940-1941 / by unknown photographer
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Ion L. Idriess, c. 1940-1941 / by unknown photographer,
originally uploaded by State Library of New South Wales collection.
The author of Gold-dust and ashes, a tale of pre-war mining in New Guinea.
Rabaul in the 1920s A Child’s Eye View by Derek Westoby O’Dean
2nd Lieutenant Charles Etienne de Berigny, Royal Flying Corps
My late brother, Frank de B Wall, collected a lot of material on our mother’s first cousin, Charles de Berigny, and arranged with an artist to paint a picture of the aerial dogfight in which he was able to get a burst of bullets into the Red Baron’s plane. This operation took place on April 2, 1917. Charles was killed on April 29, 1917, aged 19 years.
Souvenir, Westminister Cathedral, Published by the Cathedral Authorities, Date ?
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
- Westminister Cathedral
Westminister Cathedral
Do Atheists Exist? by Ralf Stüttgen
Three sages: Dave, Ralf, Pete, in a reflective disposition
- Ralf Stüttgen
People who call themselves atheists say, “God does not exist.” But, do atheists exist? – a matter of definition. If you define God as existence, the reality in which we live, as truth, love, justice, helpfulness, honesty, logic, as a set of general concepts, then there are probably no atheists. Not many people doubt the reality around themselves. However, if you imagine God as a picture-book god, with a white beard and long robes, parked above the clouds, you are right in rejecting such an image. It is the same as not believing in Santa Claus.
Yet, there is a meaning of atheist, that is very real. This is, in traditional terminology, the sinner , the person who objects to the truth, who opposes love, who does not want to obey his or her conscience, who would like to insist on a lie. And this type of atheist is everyone of us.
See: http://deberigny.wordpress.com/2008/06/03/ralf-stuttgen/#respond
Bill Eichhorn, MBE
Bill Eichhorn, successful entrepreneur and politician in his home ground on the Keram River
Did Chairman Mao Visit Angoram in 1966?
Poster source: Flickr
Sixty years ago Mao Zedong declared the beginning of the People’s Republic of China.
For years it has been rumoured and gossiped that Mao visited Angoram in 1966. The Angoram Club’s visitors’ book did bear the name of the illustrious Chairman – a record that alas is no longer with us, being cast to the wind with many other relics and vestiges of that fine institution at its demise after independence.
Mao’s visit is a question among many others: Was there a Maoist cell in Angoram? Did the Postmaster in Angoram at the time alert Special Branch to a letter posted from Angoram to the Chairman? Was a prominent expatriate resident contemplating marriage to the daughter of a Nationalist Chinese Army General? Did a Patrol Officer at Angoram join the Special Branch, the intelligence unit of colonial PNG, some years after the supposed visit? Was the health of Mao proposed and drunk to in the Angoram Club? Did a senior Administrative Officer in Angoram have a connection with the Hong Kong police, and was he a person of interest to the People’s Republic of China? Did an entrepreneur, and fine art dealer of Scottish lineage present to Mao a priceless piece of cave sculpture from the Karawari River area – an artefact that can now be seen in China? Was Mao’s love of peasant rustic women pandered to by a fair Kambaramba lady of the night? A final question is, was Mao borne on the crest of a tidal wave up the Sepik River and deposited at Angoram in 1966?
A known fact is, that at the time, the Malaria Control Officer at Angoram was the proud owner of the “Little Red Book”, Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung, and was apt to freely quote from this work when in his cups at the Club.
Mr Donald Bosgard, the then venerable President of the Angoram Club, was reported as saying that any visiting head of State would be accorded the respect of his or her office should a visit be made to the Club.
It is recorded that Mao was most impressed with Norm Liddle’s rendition of The Court of King Caractacus on the accordion, and he even invited him to visit China, and play with the Military Band of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army.
Mao was particularly interested in Bob Mackie’s fool-proof method of venereal disease prevention. As Bob said to Mao, “it always works.”
We get back to the basic question, did Mao visit Angoram? Of course he did. You may as well ask me, did George Mallory summit Everest? Of course he did. It is even said that the Chairman sent Michael Somare a letter about his visit to Angoram.
Education and Environment by Ralf Stüttgen
The views from Ralf's property in the Wewak Hills
Ralf discusses Sepik carvings with US Ambassador, Leslie Rowe
Proper education not only teaches people to understand and protect the environment, but also frees them of the need to destroy it in order to survive.
Little Malachai, aged 10, near Wewak, roams his tribal grounds with his catapult, shooting at every wild bird that comes in sight. Often he hits one from forty or fifty metres away. Told that wild birds could be wiped out if he continues this practice, he angrily replies: “This is our bush and our wildlife, we can do this, we have to do it. This is the only way for us to get meat.”
Thirty years ago this jungle had a lot of cassowaries. Today there are none left in a five-mile radius around most of the villages. Similarly, the numbers of tree kangaroos or cuscuses, and large fruit bats have dropped to a fraction of what they were a generation ago. “My father used to come home with a whole bag of bats from a hunt. Now we only catch three or four in one night”, laments a young man.
A hundred years ago, a typical New Guinean mother might have given birth to ten children in her lifetime, but only one or two of her children would have survived to adulthood. Today, with hospitals and medical care most survive. The population of PNG has doubled since the introduction of Western medical facilities, and everybody lusts and needs to be fed from gardens. At present only a small percent of the population live in towns and eat canned meat and imported food.
Logging companies come into the country, and destroy it. “Do you know that if loggers give you K100000 , their company makes a million on your timber on the overseas market.” “I don’t care what you say”, a local leader told me, “we need the money”.
Scientists worldwide do valuable research on endangered species. But good advice to locals and even politicians remains ineffective. To protect elephants or primates, the poachers would have to be educated to a level where they can make better money than from tusks or monkey meat.
To provide good quality education, the annual budget of a primary school, grades one to six, requires up to one million dollars, secondary and tertiary education costs more. Would well-meaning scientists be able to organise such sums? I think not, so governments need to be approached.
An idea in this context would be for governments to require companies to pay more or less the same rate of taxation, but that this money must be paid directly to provide education to the people in the areas where the companies operate. Taxation imposed and collected by central governments in undeveloped countries inevitably leads to education being poorly resourced, resulting in inferior physical infrastructure and teachers. Taxation legislation requiring this direct local commercial input into education would result in education being given the high priority that it needs.
Yangtze Sepik Swim
“At the start of the Cultural Revolution in 1966, the Chinese press reported that Chairman Mao Zedong (then age 73) swam across the Yangtze River at Wuhan. The story was intended to quash rumors that Mao was either gravely ill or dead.” WuhanTravel Guide
When did the Birdman swim across the Sepik?
“Now the Birdman, it was when Trueman was building the club toilets etc. I can’t recall the year, but I distinctly remember that it was between smokes!”
Peter Johnson (Former Secretary of the Angoram Club)
I would say from memory that Adrian Birb swam the Sepik River in 1969.
The Chairman’s swim, in a sense, ushered in the Cultural Revolution and the Birdman’s swim coincided with revolutionary changes in the social and political life in Angoram.
Adrian Bird, the Birdman, was a master builder who was initially employed by Geoff King, the Manager of the Angoram Hotel, to carry out hotel renovations. When these were finished, Kevin Trueman, entrepreneur and builder, decided to retain the Birdman to start and complete a contract he had with the Angoram Club.
The swim was a perilous achievement as the current of the mighty river almost carried him away. On reaching the bank he was heard to say: “I need a smoke.”
I think the dangers that Adrian faced were greater than those faced by the Chairman. Whether, of course, the enormous political implications were as great for the Birdman as for Mao is a matter for debate.
Both were significant revolutionary figures.
A fortune so tantalizingly close
Sam Bell sat on the verandah of his house in Angoram on Tobacco Road facing the Sepik River and he contemplated the future and the past. He had reason to be reflective as he was, just now, recovering from a rather virulent dose of clap thanks to the penicillin injections given by Jamie Ward, but life went on, and a man had to make a bob and the future offered interesting possibilities in this respect.
Angoram in the 1960s had its fair share of dreamers and schemers with little to sustain them but the hope of better things to come. Sam, who arrived in New Guinea shortly after the Second World War had put his hand to most things from Airways employee to gold mining and trading but never had he been so hopeful of making a fortune than he was just now.
When he first arrived in Angoram he could see that there was money in running a trade store and in buying crocodile skins, and with his partner, Bill Clayton, a pretty penny had been made. But Sam wanted big money and the events of the last couple of days held out the prospect of this.
A couple of weeks previously Sam had sent Carlos Ruiz, a mixed-race employee, to the Amboin area up the Karawari River to check out the kwila or ironwood stands. In this endeavour, his information was of little value. All he could really say was that he had seen the occasional kwila and that the people would cut them down and float them down the river to Angoram, but they wanted axes, saws and an outboard motor to do this as well as an exorbitant amount of money for each tree.
Sam thought to himself that Carlos was a bit of a useless bastard, he’d been up the river on good wages and this is all he can come back with. He knew that he was a bit of a piss-pot and he had become more so after some of those do-gooders had allowed him to become a member of the Angoram Club, as Sam said: “A man’s got to work with them I can’t see any reason why you have to relax with them.” These words of precaution were offered in the soft tones of Sam’s Scottish brogue and became more meaningful in observing the expressive Hemingway look-alike face of his.
But then life is full of surprises, for the good Carlos went on to reveal and show Sam something of earth-shattering importance. Sam, an inveterate art fancier, was all ears after Carlos showed him a piece of woodcarving he had collected while in the upper reaches of the Karawari River.
Carlos could detect that Sam was not too impressed with what he had to tell him about the timber and its availability. As an afterthought he said: “Sam, I did get as far up the river as Inyai, ol yangpela there kept on talking about some caves they wanted to show me. I could tell that the old blokes were not too keen to show me where these caves were. This made me think that there might be something good to see there. Well, I did go to the caves and all I saw was a whole lot of old junky carvings. I bought this one for $10 from the young blokes. A bit of rubbish as far as I’m concerned but I thought you might be interested.”
To say that Sam might be interested was the understatement of the century. What Carlos produced was a wooden carved female figure standing at about 5 1/2 feet and made, as far as Sam could tell, from ironwood. The figure was in the frontal position with upraised arms and the head was crowned with a spiked elevated adornment. Sam, who had been collecting on the river for years, had never seen anything quite like it. It appeared to be very old with an indefinable quality about it.
An appreciation of so called primitive art is an intangible quality that grows on some expatriates without them necessarily being very knowledgeable about the culture that produces such art. What is the difference between a curio and a piece of carving that radiates and gleams to the aware? Sam knew, but could probably not give you an answer. In his years on the Sepik River, Sam had seen piles of good and bad carvings and he had a very good idea what was an artifact and what was just fairly good carving. He had no doubt that what he was looking at now was important aesthetically and financially. Or in Sam’s terminology, “there’s a bob to be made here.”
He knew he had to conceal and disguise from Carlos how impressed he was with the carving. Otherwise, the whole town would hear about it and what was left in the Karawari would be collected by others. He thought to himself, “that bloody Pietro will be up there like a shot and as for that German doctor this would be just the excuse he needs to go on a medical patrol up the river and get as many carvings as he can.” John Pietro was a trader very often in competition with Sam for a good carving. Jan Speer, the German doctor, Sam accused him of building up his own museum and selling artefacts in Europe, all at government expense by collecting on so- called medical patrols.
If there were more like this piece, Sam thought to himself, then I’ve struck it. He could talk of gold, heavy yellow gold. Of course, the very thing he intended not to do was talk about it. He would imply to Bill Clayton, his business partner that he was on a good thing.
“OK Carlos here’s the $10 for this piece and what you’ve found out about timber in the Karawari could be useful. I think I might check it out for myself in the next few days.” He got the carving back to his house pronto, and got his houseboy to brew a very strong pot of coffee. While drinking, he reflected, and tried to suppress his excitement and he decided to share and show Bill Clayton the carving. After all, Bill and I are partners, he figured. But the truth was that he couldn’t help but tell someone of what he considered his good fortune.
Bill when he saw the piece was equally blown away by it. Together they made plans to get up the Karawari River as soon as possible. “We’ll not take that blabbermouth, Carlos, with us.” The lure of gold was now firmly planted in Sam’s psyche and he saw his El Dorado on the horizon. “Bill, we’ve got to get to those caves as soon as possible.”
Sam and Bill made to the caves. Up the Karawari past Amboin to the headwaters of the Arfundi River to Inyai and Awim village territory and beyond to limestone escarpments, where caves were discovered full of the most extraordinary artifacts. Sam nearly had a heart attack on the trip as the going was so hard; tramping through swamps and bush tracks to finally reach the treasure.
The pieces consisted of hooks in a complex style and female figures like the one that Carlos had shown Sam. Sam managed to persuade the locals to sell ten pieces to them and they were up and out of there as soon as they could leave. When they arrived back in Angoram Sam had no trouble getting an export permit from the Assistant District Commissioner.
He decided he would send them off to a contact he had in the Museum of Primitive Art in New York, merely to get them priced. This is what was done but alas, alas, they never got to New York. According to Sam, “some rotten bastard in Madang nicked the lot of them.” For years after Sam and Bill scanned museum catalogues and displays and talked to private collectors, but had no success in tracing their pieces. All that Sam knew was that similar pieces had come on the market and were conservatively priced in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Sam and other collectors did subsequently collect from the caves much to their personal profit. But the ones that were taken were always a source of grief to Sam.
The Sepik Solution
Keram River
It has come to my notice that a prominent East Sepik Province businessman, Mr Peter Johnson, C.B.E., has approached the Prime Minister, Sir Michael Somare, for authorization to offer his estate, Yip, on the Keram River, to the Australian Prime Minister, Mr Kevin Rudd as a haven for asylum seekers on their way to Australia.
He is just awaiting Sir Michael’s approval and the OK from Mr Rudd to embark on a massive building program to accommodate the refugees.
It has been further speculated that Mr John Pasquarelli is considering a return to the Sepik to manage the Yip establishment. Senator Barnaby Joyce is said to be enthusiastic about the Yip idea and of Mr Pasquarelli running it.
Mr Pasquarelli sees himself as an Australian with courage “to become [a flag-bearer] in these challenging times.”
In this brilliant concept there would be winners everywhere: Christmas Island will not become overcrowded. The Australian navy would benefit by improving their navigational skills by collecting refugees wherever and shipping them up the Sepik and Keram Rivers. The asylum seekers would be well-housed in the palatial accommodation planned by Mr Johnson and managed by Mr Pasquarelli. PNG would get wanted revenue. Mr Rudd would stop the boats coming to Australia and would not be embarrassed by adopting a Pacific Solution, for this would be the Sepik Solution. In accordance with United Nations regulations, Mr Pasquarelli promises a quick turnover of the bona fides of the asylum seekers – good looking females, of course – will be given preferential treatment, which is only fair, given we are thinking of future generations in Australia.
So, my advice to you, Mr Rudd, would be, take it, for: “On such a full sea are we now afloat, And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.”
We are no longer all British!
Today a couple of young Englishmen called in doing a survey for GOGREEN, and I got talking to them. First saying I detected their Southern English accents and they told me they were from London.
I asked them were they visitors or residents and they said they were here for a year and hoped to stay longer but there could be difficulties. I mentioned that my forebears come from Shepherd’s Bush in London and one said that was where he came from. I then went on to say that when I first visited England in the fifties, we were all considered to be British and went through the barriers as such, but alas, the Empire is no longer and as Australians coming to the UK now we are considered aliens, the same as the poor old Brits coming into Australia.
I then went on to tell them about a friend, a Battle of Britain pilot with a DFC, upon entering Britain he was told that he had to go through the barrier at customs for aliens, and he refused, and made such a fuss along the lines that he fought for this country and there was no way he was going to enter as an alien. Eventually the authorities relinquished and let hin through the citizens’ gate.
I must admit that I did embellish the story a bit. The pilot was not actually a friend, and whether he had a DFC or not, I don’t know, but I did hear this story from someone as being something that did actually happen to a Battle of Britain pilot and his reaction.
The point of this little tale is that some of us might feel we are British, and like St Paul of old be proud of Roman Citizenship, but a fat lot of good this will do Englishmen or Australians. On reflection I suppose it didn’t do St Paul much good, but then again, I suppose it’s better to have your head cut off than to be crucified.
Interesting inscription in “Somewhere in New Guinea”
Frank Clune, of course, was a distinguished Australian author and Goya Henry was a famous Australian aviator and master of small ships in PNG.
I recently purchased Somewhere in New Guinea with this remarkable dedication from Frank to Goya inside the book.
Clune, Francis Patrick (Frank) (1893 – 1971)
Birth:
27 November 1893,Darlinghurst, Sydney,New South Wales,Australia
Death:
11 March 1971,Darlinghurst, Sydney,New South Wales,Australia
Cultural Heritage:
Religious Influence:
Occupation:
- accountant
- autobiographer/memoirist
- defence forces personnel (other countries)
- historian (general)
- journalist
- radio entertainer
- soldier
- travel writer
Francis Patrick (Frank) Clune (1893 – 1971), by unknown photographer, 1930-33, courtesy of State Library of New South Wales. Original : P1/C (BM) . .
Image Details
CLUNE, FRANCIS PATRICK (1893-1971), author, journalist and accountant, was born on 27 November 1893 at Darlinghurst, Sydney, son of George Clune, a labourer from Ireland, and his Victorian-born wife Theresa Cullen. Educated in Sydney at St Colombkille’s and St Benedict’s Catholic schools, Frank grew up at Redfern and took a job as a newsboy. He left school at 14, and claimed to have worked as a messenger-boy in the government printer’s office, to have run away to become an itinerant bush labourer and to have had twenty-five different jobs by the age of 17. After joining the United States Army in Kansas on 26 October 1911, he subsequently deserted and was a seaman when he enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force on 10 May 1915. Serving with the 16th Battalion at Gallipoli from 2 August, he was wounded in both legs five days later and evacuated to a hospital in Cairo; he returned to Sydney in November and was discharged on 29 March 1916. At Woollahra in a civil ceremony on 31 October that year he married a tailoress Maud Elizabeth Roy; they were divorced in 1920.
Employed as a commercial traveller, Clune married a 21-year-old saleswoman Thelma Cecily Smith on 9 May 1923 at the district registrar’s office, Waverley; she was to appear in his columns as ‘Brown Eyes’ and to become the proprietor of an art gallery. At night he studied accountancy and in 1924 established a tax consultancy, registering Clune Accounting Systems Ltd in 1928. He lived at Vaucluse from 1930 and belonged to the New South Wales Golf Club. His adventures at sea, as a trooper in the American cavalry, at Gallipoli, bootlegging in Canada, touring Queensland in the chorus of an opera company, and as a mouse-trap salesman provided the basis of his first book, Try Anything Once (1933). It was an immediate success and sold tens of thousands of copies.
From 1933 to 1936 Clune developed the formula which he was to use for many other books: Rolling Down the Lachlan(1935) and Roaming Round the Darling (1936) were speedily-written accounts of his travels as a tax-consultant in western New South Wales and of an expedition to Coopers Creek, Queensland. His combination of historical detail, narratives of explorers and contemporary political observations found an eager market. Following the example of Ion Idriess, Clune used a rough-and-ready prose style and expressed his sense of nationalism. His travel books, again employing his trusted formula, covered Europe, the Pacific, the Middle East, Asia and North America. By 1952 he estimated that his twenty-three books had sold over a half a million copies.
Clune (and his supporters) took his writing seriously, seeing it as an expression of simple Australian virtues and unvarnished Australian speech. Others were more sceptical. Kenneth Slessor met him in Cairo in 1942 and wryly noted that Clune, although an honorary commissioner of the Australian Comforts Fund, spent most of his time arranging free travel and collecting guide books as sources for Tobruk to Turkey (1943); Clune donated the royalties (£750) to the fund. He ‘left a very bad impression’ on General Sir Thomas Blamey—as much for his self-conferred rank of major as for his ‘irregular methods and indiscreet utterances’ about the British ‘only playing at war’. Blamey ensured that Clune was subject to military censorship and, when Clune managed to get to New Guinea in 1943 through the help of the U.S. Army, had him smartly returned to Australia.
With a strong sense of his public, Clune did not confine his enthusiasm for travel, adventure and history to books. When he had been auditioned, officials of the Australian Broadcasting Commission found that his ‘voice is not all good’, but from 1936 he badgered (Sir) Charles Moses (on a golf course) to arrange for him to give a series of radio talks. Clune wrote for newspapers and magazines, including Smith’s Weekly and the A.B.C. Weekly, and continued to broadcast; his regular show on the A.B.C., ‘Roaming Round Australia’ (1945-57), boasted an audience of one million.
There were more critical responses to Clune’s apparent insouciance with evidence when he wrote what purported to be orthodox history rather than travelogue. Starting with Dig (1937), an account of Burke and Wills, he worked his way through Australian history, writing accounts of bushrangers, ‘crooks’ and other romantic figures. The Viking of Van Diemen’s Land (1954), its narrative full of action and dialogue, was thought to have more in common with historical novels than history; Clune and his collaborator P. R. Stephensen were taken to task for passing off conjecture as fact in the life of Jorgen Jorgenson. The book had come from notes which Clune had made over eighteen years and from the work of researchers employed on contract, and was written up in a dramatic manner. With its impressive bibliography, it illustrates Clune’s strengths and weaknesses: an ability to ferret out information, but a desire to embroider it. Nevertheless, in books such as Dig and Wild Colonial Boys (1948), where he took care, he handled complex narrative and evidence comparatively well.
While his defects as a historian and a literary stylist are obvious, Clune’s readability and his capacity to sound like an enthusiastic representative of the ordinary traveller brought him wide popularity. He wrote in a pre-television era when men, in particular, read for entertainment and vicarious adventure. As he said in the first number of his short-lived Frank Clune’s Adventure Magazine (1948), ‘We don’t want stories of snoopy sex, written by anaemic lounge lizards and pub-crawlers. Action is the password to these pages. This is reading for men with red blood in their arteries’.
Although his fifty-ninth (and last) book appeared in 1968, he had continued to practise as a tax consultant, in partnership with his elder son from about 1959. (Sir) William Dargie and (Sir) William Dobell painted portraits of Frank Clune and he bought examples of their work, as well as paintings by other artists. Dobell’s portrait emphasizes the bluff, steel-coloured, short-cropped hair, and the energy, confidence and humour in his eyes. Clune was appointed O.B.E. in 1967. Survived by his wife and two sons, he died on 11 March 1971 at St Vincent’s Hospital, Darlinghurst, and was buried with Catholic rites in South Head cemetery. The travel books remain valuable social records and the histories, although contentious, gave rise to some Australian mythologizing; Jimmy Governor (1959) was the inspiration for Thomas Keneally’s novel, The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1972). The portraits of Clune are held by the family.
Select Bibliography
B. Adamson, Frank Clune (Melb, 1943); K. Slessor, The War Diaries of Kenneth Slessor (Brisb, 1985); ABC Weekly, 23 Dec 1939, p 8; People (Sydney), 12 Apr 1950, p 21; Walkabout, 1 Mar 1953, p 40; Papers and Proceedings (Tasmanian Historical Research Association), 3, nos 2 and 3, 1954, pp 28, 52; Biblionews, 8, no 2, Feb 1955, p 4, no 4, Apr 1955, p 11, no 7, July 1955, p 22; Clune papers (National Library of Australia); Clune files, especially SP 1558/2/0 box 36 and 244/1/463 (National Archives of Australia); F. Clune, manuscripts and working papers of several unfinished books (University of New South Wales Library); private information. More on the resources
Author: Julian Croft
Print Publication Details: Julian Croft, ‘Clune, Francis Patrick (Frank) (1893 – 1971)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Volume 13, Melbourne University Press, 1993, pp 447-448.
Henry, Henry Goya (1901 – 1974)
Birth:
17 June 1901, Grafton,New South Wales,Australia
Death:
14 July 1974, Manly, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Occupation:
HENRY, HENRY GOYA (1901-1974), aviator and shipmaster, was born on 17 June 1901 at Grafton, New South Wales, third son of Thomas James Henry, medical practitioner, and his wife Emily, née Stephen, a great-granddaughter of John Stephen. Known as Goya, Henry was educated at Grafton High School. He made one voyage in a sailing ship; hoping to transfer later to medicine, he studied science at the University of Sydney in 1922-23. At St Matthew’s Church, Windsor, on 11 April 1925 he married Marjory Alison Pursehouse, schoolteacher. He worked as a clerk.
Qualifying for a private flying licence on 28 January 1928, Henry was issued with a commercial licence on 6 June 1929, which he used principally in a barnstorming venture. On 6 July 1930, flying a Junkers Junior monoplane, he was caught in bad weather and crashed at Manly, killing his passenger and losing much of one leg. With a successful artificial leg, he eventually regained his commercial licence in 1932 and was employed by Air Taxi Ltd. About 1934 he bought a Genairco biplane, decorated it with a ‘Jolly Roger’ and used it for joy-rides.
In September 1934 Henry’s licence was suspended for a fortnight for breaches of the air navigation regulations. Considering the sentence unjust, he defied the order: his licence was suspended indefinitely and he was prosecuted. Henry’s brother Alfred Stephen, a solicitor, launched proceedings in the High Court of Australia in October 1934 for an order nisi. While judgment was pending Henry was charged with further offences, his licence was suspended again and he was forbidden to enter any aerodrome. The Henry brothers appealed again to the High Court for an injunction. In 1936 the High Court ruled in respect of the action of October 1934 that the Commonwealth had a right to regulate flights but only in conformity with international conventions on the subject; the court considered that the regulations in dispute did not accord with those conventions. The parties then agreed out of court that on the payment of damages by the Commonwealth, the injunction application would be struck out. Charged by a flight controller at Mascot during the ensuing temporary confusion with flying below the prescribed height, Henry appealed, this time unsuccessfully to the High Court.
After a verdict against him in the District Court, arising from a collision while taking off from Mascot, Henry was bankrupted in October 1938 and was not discharged until September 1940. Debarred by his artificial leg from the Royal Australian Air Force at the start of World War II, he joined the small ships unit of the United States Army in 1943 and sailed a small work boat around New Guinea. After the war he worked for the Papua-New Guinea division of the Directorate of Shipping as mate on the Kelanoa plying between Rabaul and Kavieng, and as master of the Matoko in 1950-51. When the shipping service was taken over by the administration of Papua-New Guinea, he became master of the Thetis sailing up and down the Sepik River. He retired about 1963 and returned to Sydney; although his flying licence had lapsed he tried to revive contact with aviation. He died childless at Manly of arteriosclerosis on 14 July 1974 and was cremated.
Short, fair, straight-backed and nimble in spite of his disability, Henry became a New Guinea character. He had collected and sold snakes for many years, thereby reinforcing his reputation as a daredevil. In later years he suffered from some alcoholic excess.
Select Bibliography
Pacific Islands Monthly, Sept 1966, p 130; Aircraft (Melbourne), Dec 1936, p 8, 1 Apr 1937, p 17; Commonwealth Law Reports, 1955, p 608, 695, 1961, p 634; Australian Flying, Sept 1974; Sydney Morning Herald, 7 July 1930, 11 Nov 1936, 17, 18 Sept 1940, 21 July 1974; Smith’s Weekly (Sydney), 21 Nov 1936; bankruptcy file 249/1938, Federal Court of Australia (State Records New South Wales); service record, (National Personnel Records Center, St Louis, Mo, USA); A518 DB112/5, A432 34/1802, MP274/6 FL3918 (National Archives of Australia).
Author: H. J. Gibbney
Print Publication Details: H. J. Gibbney, ‘Henry, Henry Goya (1901 – 1974)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Volume 9, Melbourne University Press, 1983, pp 265-266.
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel: A comment
Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall is a great and entertaining read, as long as you are aware that you are not reading history but a construction of the writer’s imagination.
Thomas Cromwell, the benign and loving family man who merely reads the signs of the times and went with the sociological and theological spirit prevailing, and facilitated the policies of his master, Henry VIII, to my mind is a little over the top.
There is very little evidence that the Reformation in England was a popular movement. It was a policy of the King’s imposed on the English people by a monarch to get a divorce and acquire church property. This is borne out by many historians such as James Gairdner, Eamon Duffy.
The false impression is given that significant numbers of the population were hungry for Tyndale’s Bible and were questioning traditional Catholic doctrine and practices. The young boy denying the real presence in the Eucharist is a colourful but unlikely event at the time.
History has painted Thomas Cromwell as a self-serving and efficient administrator but still a complete bastard. Whereas in Mantel’s novel, Thomas More is the objectionable bastard in spite of the positive assessment of scholars like Erasmus and the modern day Anglican and Catholic Churches.
Given all this, I must say, I enjoyed reading the book, so you too also enjoy it, but don’t delude yourself that it’s history.
Priceless Korewori piece from the Caves
- Donald Bosgard & David Wall with ‘the priceless piece’, Angoram, 1969
A distinctive piece much admired by Thomas Murry Slimmon, a distinguished artefact collector and dealer from Angoram in the 1960s.
Images from the past
1958 Leeton, contemplates a world trip 1961 Troppo on Kar Kar Island 1963 Driekikir
1984 Kuring-gai C.A.E "Seeking for truth in the groves of Academe" 1986 50th birthday, left Andy Marke, John Bowers, Dave Wall 1980s John Bowers, Dave Wall in a theological & philosophical mood
| Acquainted with the Night by: Robert Frost |
| I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain — and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light.I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet But not to call me back or say good-bye; Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. |
| From “New Hampshire”, 1923 |
In memory of the late Peter Kimmins, 20 Aug 1943 – 18 Dec 1979
Peter, Andrei and David Augustus at Como
- Outside the church
- Church of St Michael, Daceyville, Nov 17, 1979
Diaconate Ordination
Peter's Ordination to the Diaconate by The Most Rev. James P. Carroll
Ordination to the Diaconate
John Benson
Peter and Andrei at Como
"Compass Theology Review" Vol 13, no 3, September 1979
"Compass Theology Review"
"Compass Theology Review"
"Compass Theology Review"
From Mrs Kay Kimmins
Peter with his Mother
Peter with our family at Como
Snaps and...
Bits and pieces...
- Peter’s obituary in “The Catholic Weekly” 3 Feb 1980
Letter to Peter's Mother from David Wall
Mass at St Paul's Seminary, Kensington NSW, 5th March 1980
Mass at St Paul's National Seminary
People living in the East Sepik District in the late 60s and early 70s would well remember Peter Kimmins. The tragedy of his sudden death in December 1979 was a great loss to many people. Although he died many years ago he is still fondly remembered.
Travels in Africa
Climbing Mt Kilimanjaro, 1958
David Wall writes to his parents, page 1
David Wall to parents, page 2
Hardly a great letter writer in my younger days. One could be expected to be a little more descriptive and imaginative given the nature of the places I was travelling in, but I guess, there is some communication in this epistle and the little news my parents got, I’m sure, was appreciated.
Tiger Woods
All this hullabaloo about Tiger Woods’ behaviour mystifies me. It’s known he is a tiger on the golf course and from all accounts, a demon in the cot. What baffles me is, I don’t see what is personal sexual conduct has to do with anyone except his family and the women concerned.
It all goes to prove what a philosopher said years ago: “The world hates the man who’s getting a bit.”
Love in a Hot Climate by A.C.T. Marke
A.C.T. Marke, what a fine figure of a man!
- A.C.T. Marke & John Kelly in the wilds of PNG
- Marke, in a reflective mood, before the publication of LOVE ON THE RUN and LOVE IN A HOT CLIMATE
- “Will Temlett Conibeer never learn?”
Andy Marke does it a again with his latest novel, Love in a Hot Climate.
Extensive reviews and commentaries will follow. You are urged to get a copy before supplies run out.
LOVE IN A HOT CLIMATE
Love in a Hot Climate
Available from Frogmouth Press
PO Box 90, Ainslie ACT 2602
Mobile: 0428833212
$30 a copy posted to you
Hot off the press!
LOVE IN A HOT CLIMATE by ANDREW MARKE
Review by Maurice Thibaux
Andrew Marke’s second book, Love in a Hot Climate, comes at the right time with the screening of the documentary on the Kokoda campaign on the ABC for ANZAC day to remind us that New Guinea was once part of the Empire and Australia. Even though Marke’s second book is again meant as a light-hearted account of the sexual adventures of a malaria eradication officer in New Guinea in the 60s, the jungle assumes a foreboding presence over the proceedings. His hero is still looking for the woman of his dream and the jungle is more part of his strategy here than just a backdrop to his hi-jinx amorous quest.
This book may be highly entertaining for those ex Territorians who want to relive the good ol’ days, it is not a travelogue for those who are seeking exotic sensations in a wild location. They may miss the jokes altogether. The jungle of New Guinea is treated with as much familiarity as the fells of Cornwall in the early chapters of the two books, where his character starts his journey. The atmosphere is set at a brisk pace. “Tough if you don’t get it, seems to say Marke, this is not a romantic novel”.
When you are reminded of the gruelling trek Australian soldiers had to endure on the Kokoda trail, you get a hint of the harrowing experience it would have been for one (amongst many) of our hero’s young English female companion who ends up for several days and nights in her underwear in the middle of this jungle in one of the most memorable episode in the book, after their Land Rover is swamped by a swollen river.
And yet, the hero and the young lady spend several days and nights, soaked to the bone in tropical rain, discussing Victorian literature and other such pressing matters, while waiting for the odd passing native, Ariel-like, to bring them some fresh supplies from a village that we never discover. This requires a fair suspension of disbelief or perhaps a highly developed sense of humour, of which only the English have the secret. The book is indeed subtitled “Further exciting and very funny adventures of Temlett etc.”. I wonder. I would have called it The Tempest no.2, since the Shakespearian analogy is uncanny with Temlett as Prospero running the show and weaving his magic and a cast of colourful characters very similar to old Bill’s .
Unlike the first book, which got me cracking up at times, this book did not produce such mirth. It made me smile but not in the same way, but, as in the previous book, there are moments of pathos and even tragedy. Sure there are a few crazy characters in the stories, such as, French, Marcel, who keeps murdering the English language with near fatal consequences, or, German, Erik, who has very set views on women and proper behaviour, which he cannot reconcile with the sexual revolution of the 60s, or, Aussie, David Ware who keeps coming up with the most inventive ways of making money.
Literary references and Latin quotations abound and sound as fantastic in this book as Pink Floyd’s music in the film, The Valley, by Barbet Schroeder about a lost paradise deep in the New Guinea highlands. The places where Marke takes us with Temlett do feel like that: a lost paradise of earthly pleasures that regularly turn to disaster. Nature vs nurture but, this time, it seems that nature won. Sorry Bill.
Despite the almost unbelievable situations in which his hero puts himself, Marke keeps us hoping that, this time, he will reach marital bliss with one after another curvaceous creature. Oh, yes, I forgot: this book is definitely not for women, who will loathe it with a vengeance. You are warned! I repeat: this is not a romantic novel, quite the contrary. A mixture of religious inhibitions and traditional Victorian morality and good manners seem to prevent him from achieving his marital plans.Nevertheless, again in this book, there is a lovely story at the end about a child that is quite sad and moving. But perhaps, this is what is so endearing about his character and the writer: the chase is certainly exciting and the women an essential ingredient, but it seems to be the child who is the real purpose. He may have inadvertently discovered the meaning of life or a new literary form. In a way Marke has revived the Victorian novel in the context of the sexual revolution.
I read it twice because I could not think of anything better to read (I finished Les Miserables in between – thanks for reminding me). It left me gasping at some blunt statements, but it is so full of details and references of all kinds, except about what you would expect: the jungle and the natives. Occasionally we are reminded that they are around when he mentions briefly: “they had bidden goodbye to the Councillor and villagers and were off”. Ah! I almost forgot we were in PNG.
MT
The passing of a great, good and honest PNG leader
Bernard Narokobi
It was with sadness that I heard of the death of Bernard, a good and great man. My wife, Deborah, when she was press secretary to the leader of the opposition in 1973-4 and I were in a flat next to a flat occupied by Bernard and his family in Port Moresby.
I can’t claim to have known Bernard well but everything I heard of him was good. He was a good friend of mutual friends, Peter Kimmins and Fr John O’Toole.
Bernard Narokobi
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
| Papua New Guinea |
 This article is part of the series: Politics and government of Papua New Guinea |
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Bernard Narokobi (born 1936 or 1937, died March 2010[1]) was a Papua New Guinean politician andphilosopher. He was serving as the Papua New Guinean High Commissioner to New Zealand prior to his death. Between 1987 and 1997 he represented his Wewak Open Electorate as a Member in the Papua New Guinea’s National Parliament. During his time as a Member of Parliament (MP), he served as the Minister for Justice (1988-1992) in the government led by the then Prime Minister Rabbie Namaliu; Agriculture Minister (1992-1994) under the leadership of Prime Minister Sir Julius Chan led government; and Opposition Leader between 1998 and 2002 until he lost his seat to the current Wewak MP Kimson Kare during the elections in 2002. He was displaced as a minister in the Chan government for failing to vote in favour of constitutional reforms in the provincial system of government.
In April 2009, The Guardian described him as one of Papua New Guinea’s “living national icons”, along withMichael Somare and Mal Michael.[2]
[edit]Background and family life
Bernard Narokobi was born in 1937 in his native Wautogik village to his father Anton (Kukum) Narokobi and mother Maria Mokoi and was the second eldest of five siblings. His siblings were Veronica, Apolonia, Caroline and Camillus. Camillus his younger and only brother is intending to stand for the Wewak Open seat. Camillus is also a lawyer in his own right at the family law firm, Narokobi Lawyers.[citation needed]
Bernard was a widower, having lost his wife Regina to breast cancer in 2007. He had 7 children: Vergil, Daniel, Anna, Justina, Ottonia, Benedine and Regina (twins). Bernard’s son Vergil is also a lawyer and after completing a bachelors degree in law with honours at the University of Papua New Guinea, he went on to do his Masters in law at Cambridge University. His daughter Anna has also recently completed her degree in law in Australia.
His father Anton was taught by pioneer Catholic missionaries and became one of the early catechists who served the people of Boiken and Dagua villages through teaching the Catholic faith. Bernard Narokobi started primary education at the Dagua Catholic Mission and then went to Brandi High School in Wewak, East Sepik Province where he was taught by Michael Somare who latter became the first Prime Minister of Papua New Guinea. From Brandi High School he went on to matriculate at the then Kerevat Senior High School in East New Britain Provincebefore going off to Australia where he undertook a degree in law at the University of Sydney in the 1960s. Bernard was amongst the first few Papua New Guineans to receive education abroad. In those days, preparations were underway for Papua New Guinea to gain political independence from Australia. Soon after completing his law degree, Bernard Narokobi was recruited to become the Permanent Consultant to the Constitutional Planning Committee that was chaired by his former teacher Michael Somare. Bernard Narokobi thus had a personal hand in the writing of what became the Constitution when Papua New Guinea gained independence in 1975.
Bernard died in March 2010 after a brief illness. Prime Minister Michael Somare paid tribute to him as “a humble man who dedicated his life to the development of a legal regime that incorporates Melanesian values”.[3]
[edit]Political career
After PNG gained independence, Bernard Narokobi held several jobs including serving as the legal advisor to the provincial government in his home province, East Sepik, he also worked as a private lawyer, a lecturer in law at the University of Papua New Guinea and had a stint as an acting judge in the Papua New Guinea National and Supreme Courts. He has published a number of papers and articles which are scattered in various journals and several books including The Melanesian Way; Life and Leadership in Melanesia and Lo Bilong Yumi Yet and a short book of fiction entitled Two Seasons.
Bernard Narokobi aligned with a team of like minded Papua New Guineans to start their Melanesian Alliance Party. The original founders of this Party include John Momis, John Kaputin and Moi Avei. John Momis was the Deputy Chairman of the Constitutional Planning Committee which recruited Bernard Narokobi as their Permanent Consultant. Bernard Narokobi became actively involved in politics when he decided to contest the national elections in 1982 where he ran an unusuccessful campaign against his former teacher Michael Somare for the East Sepik Regional Seat. Learning from his failed election in 1982, Bernard Narokobi entered Parliament in 1987 after toppling Tony Bais in the Wewak Open Electorate. He enjoyed three terms as the Member for Wewak and was defeated in the 2002 elections. As a lawyer and thinker, Bernard Narokobi was a firm believer in human rights, a staunch advocate of Melanesian philosophy and identity, and he supported strongly the call for a free and independent West Papua. He was also a devout and a highly respected member of the Catholic Church in Papua New Guinea.[4]
[edit]References
- ^ “Former PNG Parliamentary Speaker, Bernard Narakobi, dies”, Radio New Zealand International, March 11, 2010
- ^ “Country profile: Papua New Guinea”, The Guardian, April 23, 2009
- ^ “PM pays tribute to Narokobi”, The National
- ^ Ton Otto, Nicholas Thomas (1997), Narratives Of Nation In The South Pacific, Routledge, ISBN 9057020858
2. Extract from Bernard Narokobi’s “The Melanesian Way”
3. Extract from Utula Samana’s “Papua New Guinea: Which Way?” re. Narokobi’s influence
Postcard, 1970
Angoram Hotel Sepik. Houseboat and powered canoes for guided tours along the mighty Sepik River. Angoram, Sepik District, New Guinea Photo Uwe Steinward (C) GNG 70
Bob Becke’s photos from the Western District and the East Sepik District
Jock McIntyre & Bob Becke, Western District, PNG, 1960
Bob Becke with May & Harry Marchant, Two called to the bar at the Angoram Club, Jim McKinnon, Esther & Jim Stevens
Sydney meeting of old friends
- Jan Saave’s card
- Dave Wall catches up with his former boss
In 1999 & 2000, Dave Wall, met up again, with his much admired, and former boss, Dr Jan J. Saave, Medico extraordinaire, Malariologist, Maestro, Mentor, Linguist, and Officer of the British Empire. The years they served together, in Papua New Guinea, enhanced the respect Dave had for Jan, and in their meetings in Sydney, so well captured in the above photos, we see clearly the deference and respect shown by Dave towards Jan.
Matupi eruption, June 1941, Surrender leaflet, January 1942
Matupi eruption, Rabaul, June 1941
Leaflet dropped over Rabaul & Kokopo
Explanation of leaflet by R.K.Walls, AIF Sgt in New Britain at the time
Empower our GPs
The Sydney Morning Herald April 10-11, 2010
GP is in house
A thing that I find amazing in the whole health debate about costs and lack of professionals in the system, is that no one seems to mention the under-utilisation of general practitioners.
It’s not so long ago that 90 per cent of surgical and obstetrics procedures were carried out by GPs. Until the 1960s it was common to see, both in the country and in the city, GPs with hospital appointments. Surely our GPs, after eight or nine years of training, would be better employed practising medicine and surgery than merely writing out prescriptions and referring patients to specialists.
I can’t see why specialists are deemed to be the only ones medically capable to carry out procedures and, incidentally, charge what they like.
David Wall Newtown
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The Sydney Morning Herald April 12, 2010
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An Englishman of many talents, John Bowers
John Bowers in Papua
On circuit with Judge Ward
On circuit with Judge Williams in the highlands of PNG
Walking in the bush around Sydney
John Bowers, British Army, Sandhurst Man, Patrol Officer, Ex- Teilhardian, Special Branch Officer, Judge’s Associate, New-Age Figher, Anglican Prayer Book Man, Premillennialist and Herbalife Consumer, A Most Extraordinary Man!
The fictional character, Ernest Spender, in Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk, shows a remarkable resemblance to JB.
Lest We Forget
Moir's cartoon, SMH, April 26, is so good and unforgettable, congratulations!
Harry Brown
TOM RYAN'S REVIEW
- HARRY BROWN
MICHAEL CAINE AT HIS BEST
Rating 8/10
Violent and avenging but revealing and meaningful, Michael Caine as Harry Brown in the same genre as Burt Lancaster playing Valdez dispensers a brand of justice.
Film review – Harry Brown
Published: May 25, 2010
Since Michael Winner directed Charles Bronson in the 1974 Death Wish and it became the archetypal urban vigilante film, it is very difficult to review this kind of film.
On the one hand, one must deplore an individual taking the law into his or her own hands and executing in the streets those who have committed crimes that have eluded official justice. We are not executioners.
On the other hand, the atrocities committed by thugs who have no compunction on ordinary citizens do, as the scriptures say, call out for vengeance.
Michael Caine is very effective as Harry, whose wife dies after a long illness, and David Bradley as Len, his friend and chess partner at the local pub who is harrassed by the thugs and is not going to take it any more.
Harry was a marine in Ulster but has left that in the past. However, his disgust at the behaviour of the unrepentant men and the drug-dealing scum of London sends him back to his weapons and his going on a confrontation and killing spree.
The police are limited by their abilities and what they can actually do in the face of lawyers’ advice to criminals, lack of evidence and police work on more important issues than the deaths of old age pensioners.
It was Peter Finch’s character in Networkwho got people to yell out from their homes, “I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more”. That’s what happens in vigilante films like Harry Brown – Peter Malone, Australian Catholic Office for Film & Broadcasting.
Starring Michael Caine, David Bradley, Sean Harris, Emily Mortimer and Charles Creed-Mills. Directed by Daniel Barber
Rated MA 15+ (strong violence, drug use, sexual references and coarse language). 103 mins.
Musings on the Holy Land
Miranda (Miranda Devine) 10/06/10
I read with interest your piece in today’s Herald but I must confess that I see some logic in Helen’s remarks about Israel.
The 20th century is replete with unwise geopolitical responses that divide and alienate peoples and territories leading to endless problems. To mention but a few: partition in Ireland, the Indian Subcontinent, Korea, Palestine and the Indonesian takeover of Western New Guinea.
Below are two comments I sent to letters to the Herald (not published).
The Holocaust is often cited as a justification for the establishment of the State of Israel. As far as I know the Arabs had nothing to do with the Holocaust, but the Germans did. Why wasn’t a Jewish State created in, say, Bavaria? The Palestinians were certainly made to suffer for the sins of others.
Veteran White House reporter, Helen Thomas, apologized for her comments telling Israelis to “get the hell out of Palestine” and go home to Europe and America. Her off-the-cuff remarks don’t reflect the official State Department position but they should make one consider and question the geopolitical wisdom of the West establishing a Jewish State in the midst of the Arab Middle East. It has hardly led to peace and harmony in the world.
Your articles are always worth reading and I appreciate the inescapable moral imperative rather than political correctness that runs through them.
With kind regards
David
Helen Thomas and free speech 11/06/10
What a sorry day for free speech when veteran White House reporter, Helen Thomas, was more or less forced to retire for saying what she thought. (“Tormentor-in-chief to 10 presidents was a rule unto herself”) Her comments were not diplomatic and perhaps a little extreme but in telling the Israelis to “get the hell out of Palestine” she is in accord with much of United Nations resolutions. Resolution 242 calls for the withdrawal of Israeli armed forces from territories occupied… Surely she should be at liberty to comment on the wisdom of the geopolitical decision to establish a Jewish State in the midst of the Arab Middle East after World War II.
David Wall
“It is a ferocious beast, the Jewish lobby.”
Mike Carlton 12/06/10
See:
Acid tongue sinks the scribe who swam with anti-Israel sentiment by Miranda Devine, The Sydney Morning Herald, June 10, 2010
Tormentor-in-chief to 10 presidents was a rule unto herself by Chris McGreal, The Sydney Morning Herald, June 11, 2010
Funny, they remember their epithets but not their manners By Mike Carlton, The Sydney Morning Herald, June 12-13, 2010
The Kimberleys unlocked
Deborah Ruiz Wall's photographic brilliance revealed!
The sea, a source of food
Anthropologists, Yuriko Yamanouchi & Deborah Ruiz Wall, discover the complexities of the Kimberleys.
We all expect great things from these two intrepid social scientists!
What do Women want?
“There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we now know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns. These are things we do not know we don’t know.” ~ Donald Rumsfeld …
Red-blooded men are eternally challenged with the psychological, sociological and sexual question – what do women want? Perhaps in Rumsfeld’s jungle of words there are answers within questions that can lead to “known knowns”. Anything is worth exploring to find out what it is that women want, for mistakes in this respect can lead to dire consequences. Look at the recent mess Mark McInnes got himself into. As a chief executive of DJs I suppose he was operating on the principle, he had always had more yeas than nays. But this is no excuse as his rebuttal by Kristy Fraser-Kirk proved.
Be it not for me to be critical of Mark and like most men I would be somewhat jealous of the splendid opportunities he had to associate with many gorgeous women, if merely in their presence, take the likes of Megan Gale, and I’m sure that one would be tempted to try one’s luck. Whatever qualities the hunting male has he must know what it is that women want.
A known known in this investigation is that most of us know what it is that men want, but it’s not sufficient to exclusively explain their desires in terms of cutting off a slice. Most men and certainly all women would reject an analogy that reduced them to a loaf of bread. Some of the most noble of human emotions are sometimes involved in the art of seduction. I’m trying to think of some, and I guess, they would have something to do with the evolutionary biological process. But I suppose that “these are things we do not know we don’t know”.
A lot of stupid old goats will forever make fools of themselves and sexual battles are part of the human condition. Men will too often delude themselves that they have the answer to the question of what it is that women want and women sometimes will think that “these are things we do not know we don’t know”.
Favours exchanged make the world go around but pressured interchange puts things off balance. The world’s not fair. Let Donald Rumsfeld have the last say: “These are things we know that we know.”
I encourage my readers to make comments as it is important to know that “there are known knowns.”
Give our parliamentarians the guts to legislate!
I’m not an economist, nor a political scientist, but my understanding of democracies is that parliaments are elected to govern and legislate by using the legislative tools given to them by the voters in free elections.
Elected governments, I would think, after appropriate political debate would be able to come up with policies that are deemed to be for the good of their people, and initiate parliamentary legislative processes. Surely this does not always compel them to open their proposals to endless community discussion, particularly in matters of taxation.
Take the current Australian Government’s proposed new taxes on mining and their approach to facilitate and implement them.
Why should the provisions of the proposed new taxes be disseminated to the mining companies and the community for endless discussion before the legislation is enacted in parliament? It should be obvious to anyone that if you ask, do you want to be taxed more, individuals and companies will answer no.
The Labor Party has a majority in the House of Representatives so legislation for the new mining tax would go through without a hitch. Bob Brown, the Leader of the Greens, has indicated that his party would support the government in the Senate and with one or two of the Independents the Bill would go through.
Ross Gittins, in today’s Herald, June 26th, 2010 (“Model way of conning us all”) ably shows how both sides of the debate, government and mining companies, present independent economic modeling to support their sides, but the interesting thing is that the same commercial firm prepared the data, KPMG.
What chance does the public have for an informed debate in an atmosphere charged with vested money interests? The parliament is the place for this and our elected representatives should have the guts to argue for a tax that they believe in.
Anthony Trollope said years ago: “It is the nature of a political party [to avoid] the consideration of any question which involves a great change.” And I guess the same situation prevails in Australia today.
What does Julia want to be? Answer PM
Subject: ”What! will these hands ne’er be clean?”
The ‘Little Digger’, William Morris Hughes, in heaven, would be jumping with joy at the arrival of Julia Eileen Gillard at the Lodge.
To those critical of Julia and the Labor heavies I would say: “What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.”
Bits and pieces of letters
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Hi David,
It is so nice to have some positive feedback to my article. As you might imagine, I am being swamped with abusive comments. I am glad you can see that I was simply raising some points of concern. Clearly there are many who simply want to shut down all debate. Thanks for getting in touch, Tina
“What, will these hands ne’er be clean?” Lady Macbeth
Well may the question of Laurie Oakes to Julia Gillard be put – “How does it feel to have blood on your hands?” (At which, of course, she ducked.)
I am reminded of the question put to Bob Hawke (The infamous shifty-eyed duplicitous A. H.) when he knifed Bill Hayden in the back to become PM. I am also reminded of a legal aphorism – “He/she who seeks justice must first come with clean hands.”
How long will it take for Australians to see through this treacherous and despicable assassination by the Labor Party? Not just the manipulated pawn, www (wicked witch from the west), and the faceless men of the right, but the whole stinking bunch of them, the deluded, lack of values, ‘ambitious satisfaction at any cost’, the Ministry. They are all to blame to different degrees, most especially www, or if you prefer ‘Lady Macbeth’.
If Gillard had refused the ‘right wing unions’ there would have been nothing they could have done about it, but retain Rudd, whose ratings had ironically started to improve the week of the treachery, but the Labor Party in their usual way led by their now leader, www Gillard, put out the sophistry spin, “we lost our way”, and Rudd had to be replaced. What a load of bull! The fact is that Rudd was his own man making his own decisions, or that is what the powerful right wing duplicitous union cohorts thought, and they could not stand this. So they got rid of him because he would not do what they wanted, and this was his right as PM. In the blink of an eye and without any pangs of guilt he was axed
As soon as decent Australians wake up to this reality ‘Lady Macbeth’ will be out on her ear, along with the stinking Labor Party. She will never be elected for other reasons as well: she can’t speak with a decent accent and she’s not photogenic. My acquaintances and I all cringe when we see her on television. She should take elocution lessons from Georgie Gardner, Nine News presenter, and do something about her appearance.
Tony Abbott, the Leader of the Opposition, said with some decency of Rudd’s removal: “this is no way to treat a Prime Minister.” Parliamentary Secretary, Bill Shorten, admitted on Q&A, 28/6/2010, that he had approached Gillard a fortnight before the actual removal of Rudd. This tells you about the secret underhand dealings that were going on.
The Australian People have to ask some basic questions: who is it who elects our Prime Minister and should the Labor Party be run by union heavies?
The ballot box is there for voters to express their strong disapproval of recent events surrounding the skullduggery of Prime Minister Gillard and the dismissal of Prime Minister Rudd.
Ask yourself, what is ‘Lady Macbeth’ doing that Rudd was not doing? Why change horses in midstream?
J.P. Priestley
The views expressed in this article are those of the author, J.P. Priestley, and don’t necessarily reflect those of this blog.
Solution??
We are all aware of John Howard’s Pacific Solution and readers of this blog would know that another worthwhile option was offered under the name of the Sepik Solution.
The Pacific Solution has gone, or has it? The Sepik Solution was never tried, and now, Ms Gillard offers us the East Timor Solution.
All ‘solutions’ seem to have as their primary aim to stop the boats.
I can’t see this really happening. Whatever ‘solution’ is put into practice, I believe, that ‘people smuggling’ or helping people to flee will still continue.
What is the solution?
Perhaps the refugees are some kind of solution, or in another context, one may quote or misquote, Constantine P. Cavafy: Because night is here but the barbarians have not come.
And some people arrived from the borders,
and said that there are no longer any barbarians.
And now what shall become of us without any barbarians?
Those people were some kind of solution.
Who are the the barbarians, conceivably the politicians?
What is the problem?
Ron Bradford 11.6.1936 – 4.7.2010
A tribute to Ron Bradford
It was with sadness that I learnt recently of the death of a friend and teaching colleague, Ron Bradford.
Ron exemplified and epitomized all that is best in our society. He was so typically Australian in appearance and manner, with his tall lean figure, laconic manner and soft Aussie accent. In a remembrance to him, he was described as a “Passionate activist for justice and animal liberation, teacher, builder and loving gentle man.”
There will be little or nothing said of Ron in the national media but he was a man who made me proud to be Australian. We hear a lot from our politicians about so-called ‘great Australians’ captains of industry, sportsmen and others who we all know are rogues with little to recommend them but the money and titles that have come their way.
Ron’s passion was for the downtrodden and oppressed. He had no time for bigoted and intolerant attitudes expressed by many Australians today. He wanted to help others both human and animal, which he did magnificently, from newly arrived migrants, struggling students and suffering animals.
In no way a zealot or fanatic, either spirituality or politically, he was attracted to Eastern spirituality and I suspected— motivated by The Good Samaritan. Politically he retained much of the old Australian Labor Party conscience and dedication to social justice. He admired what Gough Whitlam did for public education, particularly the abolition of university fees.
I remember Ron saying that he belonged to a fortunate generation of Australians, ’too young for the Second World War and Korea and too old for Vietnam’. I’m sure that what he meant was he was lucky he was not needed by his country to fight overseas because of his age.
At his funeral his daughter, Sonya, read a poem which ended with the words, “And we are hoping you knew all along how much you meant to us.” Anne, his wife, left a message of thanks from the animal kingdom and how, “Ron’s selfless service in social justice, has helped further the evolution of our beautiful planet.” His son, Ian, spoke movingly about his father, with his sisters, Kim and Sonya beside him. There were other tributes and Lama Phuntsok delivered Buddhist prayers and chants.
Ron, I thank you for the example of your life, and making me proud to be Australian.
David Wall
“Heedless of grammar, they all cried, ‘That’s him!’ ” Revd. R.H.Barham
Oh, save me from grammar freaks with little knowledge, continually correcting, and supposed foreign language speakers spurting out phrases to convince the listener of a fluency of doubtful cognizance.
Perhaps I could turn them on the Bard of Avon where we see in the plays: “most poorest”, “more corrupter”, and “more fitter”. For those with a hang up about “who” and “whom” and when to use them, give Shakespeare a serve about King Lear: “Who wouldst thou serve”; “To who, my lord?” In Antony and Cleopatra we see, “Who does he accuse?” G.K. Chesterton allows Father Brown to say, “He may be me”; while pointing out “his contempt for grammar.” That is the good Father.
The true linguist has no need to show off a proficiency in speaking a foreign language with meaningless phrases here and there just to let you know the measure of his/her skills.
The grammar freak in continually correcting others, and not always correctly, I suspect, wants to make himself/herself appear better than others. Grammar freaks or snobs know that they are people of little knowledge and in trying to show others up they hope to boost their own self-esteem.
I must confess I’m sympathetic to Prince Philip in the following incident:
‘Recently there were a few eyebrows raised when Australian celebrity gardener Jamie Durie corrected Prince Philip at a garden show. The Prince said “I like your tree fern” to which Durie answered “Actually it’s not a tree fern. It’s a member of the cycad family. It’s a Macrozamia moorei.” Apparently Prince Philip walked off saying “I didn’t want a bloody lecture.” ‘
http://community.livejournal.com/etiquetteworld/44551.html
Let Stephen Fry have the last say:
“If you’re the kind of person who insists on this or that ‘correct’ use… abandon your pedantry as I did mine. Dive into the open flowing waters and leave the stagnant canals be… Above all, let there be pleasure!”
Sources: http://www.dean.sbc.edu/tamburr.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subject_complement
http://community.livejournal.com/etiquetteworld/44551.html
Letters
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Lettersdeberigny | July 16, 2010 at 6:54 am | Categories: Australian Politics, Bob Hawke, Letter| URL: http://wp.me/p84UH-vZ
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A serialized novella in weekly chapters:
“Because I could not stop for Death” Emily Dickinson
A Novella by David Wall
CHAPTER 1
A medical diagnosis
Jack Mason came out of the doctor’s surgery with a piece of shattering news. Dr David Campbell, his GP and his old friend, had just informed him that he strongly suspected his recently deteriorating health was due to pancreatic cancer. He’d done a number of preliminary tests and what with his symptoms of abdominal pain, anaemia, fever, vomiting and stool discolouration, he could only come to one conclusion. But he would have to refer him to an oncologist for confirmation and treatment.
On being told of David’s diagnosis Jack said: “what does that mean and what is the prognosis?” David told him that things were not good but he did not want to go into details until the oncologist makes a diagnosis and anyhow his findings could be wrong. To which Jack replied: “don’t give me that bullshit, I know you David and your opinion is as good as any specialist and I want no goddamn referrals, so tell me what you think. “Well Jack, just remember we are no longer living in Papua New Guinea and what I can do for you as a GP in Sydney is very limited except pass you on for treatment. Which is exactly what I should do but you were always a stubborn and an opinioned bastard and I suppose if I give you a referral I don’t suppose you would go, anyhow. I’ll talk to you as I wouldn’t to my other patients. At the best you have about a year to live, but please, Jack, go to a specialist, I want you to have every chance. It could be that the cancer is confined to the pancreas and the tumour could be removed. People do recover after a Whipple procedure, which this type of operation is called.” “David you don’t believe it is, do you?” “I won’t answer that, Jack.”
This gave Jack all the truth he needed and he told David, he didn’t want to subject himself to a lot of useless operations and chemotherapy. At this stage he felt sick but not too bad and anyhow he knew that David would see that he did not suffer too much. By this he did not mean that David would assist him to end his life. David like Jack, were both still Catholics of a certain type but David as a physician was a master of pain control. And he would see that he didn’t suffer.
“Whatever you do don’t tell Mary about this.” Jack said to David. Mary was Jack’s wife and they both lived together in the Sydney inner suburb of Newtown. David told him he should inform his wife but he would respect his request. David knew in the normal course of events Mary would find out anyhow.
What goes a person do when faced with a death sentence? Jack thought to himself, everyone is faced with death. It’s when it’s going to happen is the important thing. If it was to be tomorrow he would probably be shitting himself but from his point of view things weren’t too bad. He went through his situation. He was sick but didn’t feel too bad. He was in the parlance of the day a man of a certain age. That is in his seventies. He had no dependants and Mary would have no trouble coping without him. In fact throughout their marriage she had always been able to stand on her own feet both psychologically and financially. Their two sons were employed and living away from home. So they would be OK. The big question for Jack was, what was he going to? He had some ideas.
He was recently retired from his job as a school librarian and had a good pension coming in. Mary was a recently retired university lecturer and now fully involved in social action groups. She also had a good pension. David had given him about a year or this was his interpretation of what had been said. There was no way he was going to sit around and gradually die. To employ the old saying he would die with his boots on, but then again, what were his options?
To hide his ill health as long as possible and live a normal life. He could take his doctor’s advice and be referred to a specialist or he could travel somewhere. But then again he could just stay at home and hope for the best.
It has been said that a drowning person is presented with images of his past life just before death. Jack could identify with this. On his way home after hearing David’s diagnosis his past flooded his mind. Things that he had done and things he hadn’t done haunted him. Theologians tell us that faith, hope and charity are the virtues most associated with salvation. The third one is said to be the greatest and Jack could well believe this as it was uncharitable acts of commission and omission that haunted him now.
He convinced himself that death itself didn’t worry him. In his youth he’d been half killed in a rubber plantation in Papua New Guinea after being set upon by a group of labourers. This from what he remembers was something that just happened. In a way a bit like the cancer he now had. He was carried to an adjoining plantation by Chimbu workers and cared for by a plantation manager who had picked up considerable medical skills while in the army during the Korean War. From this he recovered and he asked himself why not from cancer? But life was simple and complicated. Simple if you didn’t analyze it but complicated if you did. The plantation manager who treated him was something like life, simple on the surface, but complex and strange in many ways. Skilled in his practical medical knowledge, a good mechanic, illiterate in office skills, a fluent Pidgin English and Police Motu speaker, a closet homosexual and an unusual but kindly man.
Jack sought to explain to himself the meaning of life. In his younger years he had all the answers, or at least he thought he did or should’ve, as a believing Catholic. But time erodes certainty. The praxis of living confronts most theories of life. The obsessive bedroom morality of Catholicism he eventually concluded was far from the meaning of life. The movements of his privates in whatever direction were he concluded of little concern to the Almighty.
When he got home to their Victorian terrace house, Mary met him at the door. “Jack, where have you been?” “Oh, I’ve only been to the city and met up with Ernest Spender, we had lunch at Woolworths.” This he considered a good alibi as Mary had little contact with Ernest, a friend from his former Papua New Guinea days. Mary asked him how he was feeling and he said fine. “You should go to see the doctor as I don’t like that cough you have.” Jack brushed off this remark.
Would Jack, consult a well-known clairvoyant, Violet, a friend of Mary’s? She lived in Newtown and was said to have mystical powers, a vision healer who could dispel harmful entities from one’s body. He thought to himself that he must be desperate to be thinking of a New-Age remedy to his physical problems. His early indoctrination into Catholicism had left him with a spiritual exclusiveness and very little openness to other paths, even if he had come to doubt his Catholic beliefs. Prayer in the traditional sense still had some meaning for him and he was reminded of Tennyson’s words: “More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of.”
”Oh, hell I’ve had a pretty good life and I’m old. What am I complaining of? Mary and my boys I’m lucky to have. Of course, I’ve got regrets about stupid things I’ve done. In my younger days booze was a problem but I suppose the thing I most regret is something I’d not admit to others, I didn’t get enough sex when I was younger. Lost opportunities are always painful.”
Jack was involved with his thoughts and he was reminded of what an old friend from his PNG days said to him recently about returning to PNG. “You can never recapture what is past.” But you can see old places if not too many old friends.
Cancer isn’t the worst thing in the world. This is what Jack said to himself without much conviction. He decided to do a Google search, and this came up: “Pancreatic cancer life expectancy is very low. Once a person has been diagnosed with the condition, general pancreatic life expectancy is only 5 to 8 months.”
But this didn’t discourage him too much, strange as this might seem. He felt if he didn’t let the doctors loose on himself his prognoses would be much better. Hell, he meant to be around a lot longer than five months and he was sure he would be. This sturdy approach was perhaps more bravado, on his part, than his true mental feelings. His rational mind was at work more than he would admit. The silly, the scandalous and the misfortunes of his past came back to haunt him. Why did he burn family photos of nineteenth century Mason relations, taken at Shepherd’s Bush, London, after his father died? Why did he allow the family to hand into the police his father’s First World War revolver? That full bottle of whisky he consumed many years ago in an island in Papua New Guinea, and the subsequent totally inappropriate behaviour on his part. His youthful racism in his dealings with the natives of PNG was something that made him sink his head in shame. Why didn’t he walk ten miles to render medical aid to a pneumonia sufferer, one night many years ago while serving as a field officer with the health department in the Sepik District, when he knew that an injection of penicillin may have saved a life? With these thoughts, and others, poor Jack felt depressed and unable to comfort himself with the good things he had done in the past.
He asked himself, what should he do?
CHAPTER 2
Jack turns to the New Age
The day after his visit to the doctor, Jack was at home by himself. Mary told him she was attending an Amnesty International meeting in the city.
Jack saw the shortcomings in his life as a consequence of circumstances. Such a thing happened because he had too much to drink. If he had turned right instead of left there would have been no trouble. If he had remembered something in an exam he would have passed and eventually got himself a better position. His failure to pass a medical examination was because of his honesty in filling out a questionnaire about the health of family relations. He mentioned that his grandmother had died of TB. This heredity malady, according to the examining doctor, disqualified him from service in the tropics. The rationale for his cancer he blamed on mortality. “We all had to go because of something.”
In his present state of ill health and with the certainties of life under question, he became like a drowning man gasping for breath in need of respiration.
Surfing the net one day he came across a site offering psychic readings by email. All he had to do was send a digital photo and ask questions to receive an accurate and honest reading. This would cost him about $50.
He reasoned, why not try, what except $50 had he to lose, so he scanned a picture of himself and got away the text of an email:
“I’m a seventy-plus- year- old man who has recently been diagnosed with cance. From what I’ve heard from my doctor the cancer is terminal. I don’t feel too sick but it appears I’ve about six months to live. And should I travel to Papua New Guinea, a place I spent a lot of time in when I was young? If you can’t give me an answer, tell me. I don’t want a lot of bullshit but just a bit of honest advice. I’ve transferred $50 to your bank account”.
A week after he got his reply:
“Jack, I know that you are an honest man. Your photo tells me a lot and I know that you will fight the cancer and I know that you will succeed if you continue to trust your own intuition. You must make a trip to PNG. I know you are a very lucky man but your star is not just now shining. Just go with the flow. You need to make an appointment to come in to see me. What I’ve told you so far is spot on but a fuller and more insightful assessment can only be made if I see you”.
Jack thought to himself, what a load of bullshit that was, so much for psychic readings, and what a waste of $50 that little idea was. He may as well go off and learn to play the African drums. But on second thoughts the psychic reading was at least positive and said exactly what he wanted to do anyhow, thus proving that ‘psychics’ know quite a lot about pleasing their customers and marketing their wares.
Whatever stage of life one is in meaning is so important. Jack considered that he still had a lot of meaning left in his life. The psychic advised him to return to PNG and he couldn’t deny that there was a powerful force impelling him to do this. He was reminded of an old friend he had known in his days in PNG who was diagnosed with a chronic heart condition and instead of settling down to as it were to die he rushed off to the Sydney office of Air Niugini and booked a flight to Rabaul. The story did not have a happy ending as he died before boarding the plane. But at least he was following his dreams and Jack considered this to be important.
So many of his friends had dropped off the perch and this, he was sure, influenced the way he looked at life. There was death and corruption all around him. The Church had gone to the pack with the sexual abuse scandals. Politics and politicians seemed little different from gangs and criminals. They lied and sent people to meaningless wars. Jack wondered if his cancerous body was just a sign of the times.
With these despondent and dejected thoughts, Jack decided to leave Sydney and escape to Papua New Guinea. He was a realist enough to know that he was probably following an illusion but a mirage would take his mind off his imminent death and he would travel hopefully.
Was this a running away from reality? He had often said in the past that death when it comes would be better faced in the jungle than in institutionalized care. The freedom of fading away like that of an old soldier was perhaps a dream but an appealing one.
The last word on the 2010 Australian Federal Election
I leave this to that man of wisdom and wit, Donald Rumsfeld:
“There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we now know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns. These are things we do not know we don’t know.” ~ Donald Rumsfeld …
C Wyatt, a legend in his own time, makes a visit.
Cedric Wyatt, Rick Wyatt, CWyatt - a legend in his own time!
What a pleasure it was to see Rick after many years – an old expat Sepik hand – Education Officer, Cultural Development Officer and extraordinary character.
We spoke of many things and people – kiap(s), ol didiman, teachers, missionaries, politicians, medical officers, medical assistants, malaria control officers, doktaboi(s), ol meri na misis, ol mankimasta, traders, artefact buyers, educators, crocodile shooters, recruiters, the God fearing and the not so God fearing, canoes and the present state of PNG. These are just a glimpse of the depth of our discussions.
We were both intrigued with a rumour going around Angoram that the late Patoman, a mankimasta/butler, who had served many expats in the past, did leave a memoir, dictated to a tourist and written down in the 1980s just before he died. This manuscript, if it exists, would be a priceless document for a social historian researching the Sepik.
In life it’s a wonderful thing to catch up with old friends, especially ones of the calibre of Rick.
(To the locals Rick was mainly known as CWyatt, particularly in Kaup, a coastal village where he spent a considerable time as a teacher.)
The call of the river
This photo has a bit of history about it. In 1969 a group of Japanese academics from Kyoto City University visited the Sepik, and stayed for a number of weeks in Angoram, collecting artefacts and even some human skulls - a Sepik art form. They did linguistic and anthropological studies in the area.
The leader of the group was a professor of English and a veteran of the Japanese campaign in China during WW II – a charming and distinguished gentleman. There were two other young men who were associate professors and a beautiful young woman – an anthropologist.
They all had an extraordinary capacity for Johnnie Walker Black Label Whisky, which we all consumed in a convivial atmosphere of discussions with no language problems. I have the names of each member of the visiting party in a trunk somewhere or other in my attic.
Back to the subject of the photo. This was taken by one of the Japanese from a river boat that they were travelling on – on their way to Pagwai and hence to Maprik. I was also on my way upriver on a patrol in a canoe - from memory, to the Middle Sepik. The photographer called out to me after taking the picture – ”Come to Kyoto, David, it’s your city!”
So much for the international flavour of the old Angoram.
Oh, yes, this is the first photo my wife, Deborah, saw of me, so it must have something about it!!
India and the Commonwealth Games
Advocates of marriage
Julia Gillard moves her partner Tim Mathieson into The Lodge without the benefit of nuptials. Bob Brown supports same-sex marriage. Does this make Bob more an advocate of marriage than Julia?
Robertson and the Pope
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Highly recommended: ‘PNG Attitude’
Email benelong@bigpond.net.au for a free subscription.
PNG Attitude blog [just Google ‘PNG Attitude’] provides news and analysis of’s happening in PNG, especially as it affects the relationship with Australia. The’s events. We report,– over 100 new readers in September!
Hala Sophia
Hala Sophia
The blood of many nations and people flows in her veins: Polish, English, Dutch, French, Russian, Filipino, Chinese, Irish,Spanish, Malay but overall Australian - a biological multicellular, multicultural,child of the universe.
A future reconciler and possessor of wisdom she shall be. Men shall love her and fall at her feet. Women shall be inspired by her and the nations of the world shall acclaim her. For in her name we have Sophia (Σοφíα, Greek for “wisdom“).
An antipodean gift to the old world and the expectation of the future, oh, Halia Sophia!
4 Killed in plane crash
On the morning of Sunday, July 28, 1968, Niels Madsen’s recently purchased plane took off from the Angoram airstrip with four people aboard. It arrived in Mt Hagen. In the afternoon the plane crashed after taking off from Mt Hagen airport and all aboard were killed.
People who were in Angoram on this day would remember it well as a tragic and anxious day. David Bretherton was in charge of the station and Peter Johnson ran the radio in the local post office. Ivan Solomon, Don Bosgard and Des Hill were all there, but they are no longer with us.
Niels and Mary Madsen were significant members of the expat Angoram community.
I’ll alert a number of people to this post who were in the Sepik at this time and perhaps they might like to comment.
(The newspaper report got the spelling of Madsen wrong. Niels was known to us as ‘Mads’.)
Photo of the execution of the Namoa pirates
Execution of the Namoa pirates
At the time some of my forebears were living in China. I hope they had no part in this! The photo comes from my grandfather’s collection.
I looked closely at an enlarged version of the above photo and I just made out an inscription at the bottom: “NAMOA” PIRATES. For a full description click on:
http://www.executedtoday.com/2009/05/11/1891-namoa-pirates-hong-kong/
A trip to the Sepik in January, 1978
Dave Wall, Pete Johnson, Wewak
Boram Beach, Wewak & haus tambaran, Angoram
Boram Beach & Ron Perry, Wewak Hills
Cemetery end of the airstrip, Angoram
Angoram, Jim Koeser, Fr Dwyer in Gavien
Wewak gas depot & Wall and Johnson at Boram
Sepik River, Ron Perry, trade store
Tobacco Rd, Angoram, Las Kampani, Angoram & Wewak
Fr Fons Ruijter's setup in Gavien, his vehicle on Tobacco Rd, Angoram
Sub-district office, hospital, Angoram, Wom, Johnson & Koeser outside post office, Angoram
Angoram
Priceless artefact
Angoram shots
Angoram, Perry & Wall in Wewak
Mankimasta, Angoram, Wewak, Pete Johnson, Cape Wom
Catholic Mission, Angoram, Wewak Road, Angoram
Wall, Johnson, Koeser and maybe Elizabeth, Sepik River
Wewak, Angoram & Wewak (?)
Boram, Dave Wall
Bowers battles the botanical barrenness and removes bitter bushes
David Augustus Wall & John Bowers in Como, early 1980s
David Augustus Wall & John Bowers look triumphant in the success of John’s efforts to remove nocuous bushes from the garden.
“The world hates the man who’s getting a bit.”
Jeremiah Jones
19/10/2010
The philosopher who made the statement of this title page spoke volumes of wisdom. The world is full of males and females, the vast majority of whom have missed out sexually. A few, but a very few males, have got and are getting more than they can handle from most desireable women. It is of these fortunate men that I now write.
Men go through life with, as it were, their tongues hanging out, and with minds wondering how they can convince women to give them access to their bodies. Most are denied this access, and as a result they compensate for this by becoming moralists, killjoys, bores and prigs. Filled with jealousy about the few who actually get a bit. The moralists, most of whom have never had a good roll in the hay, are keen to make sure others don’t get what they have missed out of.
In this piece, I speak of only of those whom one would describe as red-blooded heterosexual men. I have no interest in those who fancy choir or altar boys, and others perversely desired, however, I’m always ready to admit that one man’s meat is another man’s poison, and each to his own.
A recent series of events in Sydney highlights the thrust of this article: the Kristy Fraser-Kirk and Mark McInnes dispute – a lawsuit of $37 million and a settlement of $850,000. The substance of Fraser-Kirk’s complaint centred on the touching of her bra strap, and attempts to kiss her, and putting the hard word on her, by McInnes, and asking her to go home with him. I don’t think there is any dispute about the fact that McInnes is a notorious pantsman, and has had considerable success with many beautiful women. Such a man walks on ice, and is threatened by a smoldering sense of envy in society, and even hate that such a man is, in the words of our philosopher “getting a bit”.
Be it not for me to advise an experienced pantsman like McInnes, but in the Fraser-Kirk incident he made a number of classic mistakes: he showed hesitancy and indecisiveness; a quick move was called for rather than the preliminaries of touching bra straps and trying to kiss. Let me remind McInnes that the British Empire was not build on indecisiveness, but was lost by politicans pandering to the whims and caprices of lily-livered liberals. His main mistake was, and one often made, by the experienced, getting- on- a- little roues, was to go for a much younger woman – very often fatal and to say the least a little unfair to Fraser-Kirk. He should confine his sexual advances to women over thirty.
McInnes’ very success with desireable women makes him a target for those who resent his conquests. On a much larger front, poor old Profumo was more a spit in the face on the stuffy old men of power than he ever was compromised by national security issues, because of his affair with Christine Keeler. The thought of many at the time was, why should he be getting a bit from a sexy piece like Keeler when at the same time being married to a beautiful woman like Valerie Hobson,” it’s not fair while we’re missing out!”
Most of us in life have to be content with our lot. Some get the women of their dreams but most don’t. For those who don’t, don’t let yourself be consumed by envy, allow those others to happily get their bit. My friend, the philosopher responsible for the title of this piece lived on the Sepik River many years ago, and he had to satisfy his sexual desires with a women he called the Black Bat, not the most attractive woman in the world, but the sage never complained and he was quite happy to see others doing much better with women who were far more desireable than the Black Bat. He often said, “good luck to them”.
I think it’s somewhere in Somerset Maugham’s The Narrow Corner, where the handsome Austratian, Fred, feels the disapproval of some for his affair with the beautiful Louise, and the narrator assures him that only those not presented with the opportunity to so indulge themselves would be critical of him.
The views expressed in this piece are those of the author, Jeremiah Jones, and do not necessarily represent those of the publisher/writer of this blog.
Shots of the Sepik River
Sepik River at Angoram 2
Children at play, Sepik River, Angoram
- Sepik River at Angoram
My Dad who art in heaven with Our Father
David with his father, Leeton, 1944
Remembering my father
Now I’m older than my father was when he died, older but lacking his wisdom and ethical worth.
He is for me forever a senior, elder and guiding force – a truly moral and upright man; unattached to wealth and position, a healer of the ills of others, in his practice as a physician and surgeon.
In the dead of night, in wintery rural Australia, called out to attend to the sick and dying, more often than not with none or little financial gain to himself, he rendered to all his medical skills.
His commitment was to life. He saved the mothers and children and never resorted to the abortionist’s knife or the easy option in a challenging secular and sectarian society.
Life-giving endeavours to his family, friends and patients were his gifts to humanity.
Oh, Dad, my loving father I miss you!
A Perusal of the Prayer Book by a Premillennialist Pastor awaiting the Parousia
Pastor John (The Rev. John Spender)
Pastor John peruses the Prayer Book
The Rev. John Spender
Pastor John's 18th Century Book of Common Prayer
Pastor John's Devotional Guide
It was an enlightening and devotional experience to have Pastor John staying for a couple of days. He was on a pastoral visit to Australia from his parish in Alabama. His faith in the Parousia is a source of inspiration in our secular age.
Recently discovered notes and cards from Goya Henry
Greetings from Goya 1968
Greetings from Goya 1967
Letter from Goya
I was thrilled to see that I still had this correspondence from Goya.
What make and model is this car?
Frank, driving, & Jim Wall in a car in Melbourne during WWI
I’m intrigued to know what the make and model of this car is. Can any of my readers tell? If so, make a comment.
Expats in Shanghai in the early 20th Century
Expats in Shanghai in the early 20th Century
This photo is from my family’s photo album, so, I guess, one or two in the group are my relations.
‘Father was a country gentleman.’
Mary Mason nee McCauliffe
Thomas Mason
Thomas Mason married Mary McCauliffe in Melbourne at St Francis Catholic Church; my great grandparents. Mary it seems was a young woman of some means as she arrived from Ireland on a ship with her cargo of household furniture. She is responsible for the Catholicism in our family, one family member said she has a lot to answer for because of this.
It’s a bit of a mystery how she managed to get Thomas to marry her in the Catholic Church as he was said to be a diehard Protestant.
Thomas aquired or had land in Christchurch, New Zealand when he married, and the family lived there for years until he sold up and left to follow a daughter who had eloped with someone and gone to Melbourne. Whether he planned to stay there or not is not known, but he and the family did in fact stay, a decision largely made after winning a considerable amount of money by backing Carbine in the Melbourne Cup.
I once asked my grandmother, Alice, what her father did, she replied, ‘he was a country gentleman.’ One other member of the family found a document describing Thomas’ occuption as a carrier. He said to our grandmother that this didn’t seem to square with him being a country gentleman, to which my grandmother replied: ‘but he only carried blood stock.’
Such was my grandmother’s Victorian genteel class demarcation values.
Thomas Mason's death
Inspirational Volumes for the Jungles of PNG
I was recently asked by a friend that if I were marooned in the bush of Papua New Guinea for three months and was allowed to take four works of literature with me, what would they be? Without a moments hesitation I named them:
Love on the Run and Love in a Hot Climate by A.C.T. Marke
Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk by David Wall
The Confessions of St Augustine
I would be interested to hear from anyone who can come with a better selection.
Scenes from 19th century China
Piece of furniture from 19th century China
Expats
- 19th century China
Scenes from 19th century China
Europeans in China
Pasin bilong kain kain manmeri
The title of this piece is roughtly translated, there are many different people with distinct life styles and customs. Pasin bilong em, is a pidgin expression that conveys a remarkable degree of tolerance and a rather nice quality, so often found among the Sepik River people, particularly Grass Country villagers. These people display an understanding of human behaviour that goes beyond the ordinary. Gutpela pasin or good manners and custom on the part of foreigners and expats are long remembered and cherished in the Melanesian of the Sepik, but nogut pasin, while known and not forgotten tends to be forgiven and does not form the basis for eternal grudges and antagonism. The great sense of indulgence for others by the Sepiks is good and bad for them. Good because it makes them such a likeable and charming people, but bad because it allows foreigners and some of their own politicans to literally get away with outrageous and spivvy practices.
In some ways the Grass Country people turn the Shakespearean expression on its head: “The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their bones”.
PNG Painting
Translation of Pidgin caption... "Asaro mudmen weighing their coffee & getting money".
“Painting, Kas bilong didiman – you can post it on your blog if you think it is of interest. A coffee shop here in Frankston has a few paintings by this artist. They are associated with some talatala mission & use the proceeds from paintings, coffee, & other artefacts to support their missionary endeavours.” Alan PrettyAn imaginative and interesting work by a talented artist. The painting is signed but the exact name eludes me. I would be interested to get comments about this work.Alan, thanks for supplying this.
Brother George faces the Judgement of his Lord
Brother George had died but he didn’t as many expected go straight to the bosom of Abraham, but was met at the pearly gates by St Peter who greeted him with the words:“welcome, George, but before I let you in I’ve a bone to pick with you, why did you spend so much time down there denying the rights of my successors occupying the Chair of St Peter? In answer George put his point very well by explaining to St Peter that he was of a reformed faith and had no time for the popes of Rome. St Peter then sked him directly by what authority he had authorized the re-baptism of Brother John, an Anglican? George said that only total immersion following the custom of the Baptist and the Lord was a legitimate initiation into the Christian community. St Peter said he would give him a chance to put this directly to the Lord later as Our Lord had a lot of questions about George’s Baptist community in suburban Brisbane, one of which was the apostasy of Sister Cheryl to the Arian creed of Islam, and you can imagine how little sympathy Our Lord has with this belief as the Second Person in the Trinity. St Peter then informed George that if he had his way he would give him a good burst in Purgatory before he allowed him into the presence of the Lord, this outraged George, and he said to St Peter that there was no such place as Purgatory, to which St Peter replied: “we’ll see about that.”
He then informed George that the judicial processes in Heaven had lately become almost impossible with Mary MacKillop speaking up for every Australian that comes this way: heretics, atheists, schismatics, Muslims and various other neo-pagans. According to St Peter, the Godhead in the persons of the Father and the Holy Ghost had about had a gut full with Mary of the Cross’ advocacy on their behalf, but the Son was still ready to listen to her. St Peter himself liked straight decisions – to Heaven or to Hell with maybe a little Purgatory in between. In the old days before St Mary of the Cross the Holy Trinity more or less left things up to his recommendations and proclaimed in a truly Almighty fashion their final judgment which usually accorded with what he had told the Three Persons. She, Peter considered was fully as bad as the Blessed Virgin Mary was in the old days, wanting every Tom Dick and Harry to make it to Heaven. The Holy Ghost was forced to put his foot down, and rein in Our Lord’s Mother so that the Trinity’s unimpeded judicial decisions could go ahead, but now with the Australian MacKillop’s interference things are going back to the bad old days again, at least in the case of justice, being given to her fellow country men and women.
George made it known to St Peter that he had a number of questions that he wanted to ask the Lord Jesus. Why did he have to wait until he had died on earth to meet Him? George insisted that he had accepted Jesus as his Saviour, as a true and abiding Baptist in the expectation of the Rapture and the Second Coming, and he had fought the good fight against the forces of evil, and at the very least, he could have expected to be raptured; not, to be questioned by a pseudo Papist before he even gets to see the Lord. St Peter said to George: “I’ll remind you I have the keys and not too much of that pseudo Papist stuff.”
St Peter escorted George into the presence of the Second Person of the Trinity and introduced him to Our Lord. The experience quite overwhelmed him, and he went down on his knees exclaiming his astonishment that at last after a life of faith he had met his Lord, in as it were, in the flesh. Our Lord lifted him to his feet and embraced him saying: ”your faith has saved you, but I’ve always been with you not only in the word, but also in my transubstantiated sacramental presence which unfortunately your theology does not recognize. At my Last Supper you were given the power to have me with you always, George, there is no need of a Second Coming.” George was tempted to argue, but he thought better of it on considering that this, after all, was as it were from the horse’s mouth. He instead uttered a cry begging forgiveness for his past heresy and a willingness to embrace the teaching of the Universal Church and pray for the souls of the departed at a Mass in Rome or even a Eucharist Liturgy in Athens. The Lord then informed him that there was no need for that now as he was one of the departed in the presence of the Heavenly Kingdom and Jesus explained to him why he was saved.
He told George that he had indeed been true to the word, and with Brother John, a soul still on earth, he had battled against the forces of the New Age, but why had he not used John, an excellent Pidgin speaker, in his mission to the New Hebrides? He told George about the problems that arose in his Baptist community – the loss of Sister Cheryl to Islam and the entrusting of the mission to the inland to a Christadelphian. Our Lord commended George’s mission to the Jews but he had some concerns. The old Covenant has passed and the new Covenant is with the Church – the body of believers is the body, and this is the Church. There are now no Jews and Gentiles, but only believers, who accept the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. The Lord told George that the Church was his body. The new Jerusalem, is just that. Israel is not the Church, be it spiritual or Covenant inspired. Jesus said, “George, your theology of Israel was just a muddle.” George expressed his sorrow and told the Lord that he now saw the error of his ways. The Lord went on to explain to George that his good wife had made it, and now sat the feet of the Father. She was quite right in her concerns about the hours that Brother John and Sister Cheryl spent together, especially in the caravan at the back of the manse, but of course, we now know that there was no hint of Eros in their relationship and Brother John was correct in saying that they were only working on the New Age for you. The Lord went on to say, to George: “as you know, John is of the Anglican persuasion as you yourself were once, a church in schism but still with valid baptism. You had no right to re-baptize him, but I do know as an elder and a shepherd of your flock your guidance was well intended and you are now forgiven. Anyhow, throughout the years Brother John has been directed by his reading of Cranmer’s Prayerbook, a man who incidentally is still in Purgatory for his part with that rogue Henry in depriving my mother of her dowry. I won’t tell you where Henry is, but he is with his daughter, Elizabeth, the one born out of wedlock among others, in a place fitting to their state. The Holy Ghost tells me that Cranmer’s Prayerbook is basically free of heresy and this is why he’s in Purgatory and not the other place. Your Sunday luncheons with the family and inner-circle of the congregation were, I’m pleased to say, more than just a meal. As the shepherd you carved the fatted lamb and shared the fruits of the earth with a group who saw me as their Lord, and because of this, the Father, Holy Ghost and I am inclined to reward you. There are still some doubts in our minds, but at least we’ll get Mary MacKillop off our backs by letting you in, and as you know we are three persons but one spiritual being, and your devotion to the Trinity has saved you, but there is one condition, you are commanded to continue your prayers for Brother John. The Father and the Holy Ghost have insisted that John is to be tested. Mary of the Cross is upset about this. It is known that John’s Christian love of others has been noble, in the qualities of Philia and Agape he displayed. But is he able to resist the attractions of Eros? With this question in mind, he is to be placed in situations where he comes into contact with beautiful pagan Asian women, and his faith will be tested, as steel is strengthened in the blast furnace so John’s faith will also be tested and improved. St Peter approves of this, he wrote as much in 1: 6-7 in the New Testament. He will not be tried beyond his limits but we all have to pray for him.”
Brother George assured Our Lord that he would pray for John and he was then ushered into the presence of the Father and the Holy Ghost.
They’re worth every penny of it. What do you think?
Rowan Callick, Asia-Pacific editor From: The Australian November 27, 2010
PAPUA New Guinea’s MPs have voted themselves a 52 per cent pay rise, immediately before adjourning parliament for six months. They will earn $32,000 a year, compared with the average income per head of $1400. Prime Minister Michael Somare will earn $105,000 a year after Thursday’s vote. Opposition MPs walked out when the new Public Services Minister Moses Maladina proposed the pay hike, as urged by the Salaries and Remuneration Commission. The commission comprises the Prime Minister, parliamentary Speaker, Opposition Leader, Chief Justice, and heads of the departments of personnel management and of labour and employment. The pay hike, based on a review by US-based consultancy the Hay Group, will cost an initial $13 million, including backpay for last year. The MPs’ pay rise came after a report was published by Care Australia this week saying PNG was suffering a “chronic humanitarian emergency”. RELATED COVERAGE PNG awarded ‘Golden Chainsaw’ Adelaide Now, 25 Oct 2010 Power from PNG a distant dream The Australian, 16 Sep 2010 PNG power line sparks Origin’s interest Daily Telegraph, 15 Sep 2010 Somare jets off after cementing rule The Australian, 22 Jul 2010 Grand larceny robs PNG of millions The Australian, 11 Jun 2010 Julia Newton-Howes, the chief executive of Care Australia, said a survey in PNG’s eastern highlands showed that about 191 babies die in every 1000 live births – compared with fewer than five in Australia. In the Yelia region those surveyed earn on average under $40 a year. People in more than half the 260 households surveyed had eaten only one staple food – sweet potato – in the previous day. Ms Newton-Howes said: “What little government-funded services they have access to, seem to make very little difference to their lives.” Australia will this year give PNG $457m in aid.
An author in contemplation
From afar in a cold climate an author contemplates his love away in "Second Rome".
ACTM no longer on the run nor in a hot climate thinks about his beloved in faraway Istanbul.
Speech given by David Wall at the celebration of Deborah Wall’s 60th birthday
Chedi Restaurant, Newtown, 22/11/2009
First a little house keeping: recently my brother, Frank passed over (Excuse my rather quaint Victorian expression) and he always had a good name for the selection of a fine wine, so I got in touch with him in heaven and he told me that his small stint in purgatory had refined his taste for a fine vintage. For what it’s worth the wine you have is his selection with a lot of help from Greg our host and restaurateur.
Deb, what can I say about her? Hard-line and humane, our Prime Minister’s attitude to refugees – hardly – humane, yes!
Deb and I have been married for nearly 37 years and over these years she has had the rather endearing habit of leaving possessions in taxis, buses, trains and other places. She has been robbed from Sydney to Madrid. I often wondered why. What it is, she is so much into the good of people- conversation, communication, reconciliation and the concerns of others that she forgets what she has in terms of bags cameras etc. Deb sees spirituality in the Block and even in me at times!
I often say that the best decision Deb ever made was to marry me!! Of course, what I really mean is that marriage to Deb was the best thing that ever happened to me. But for this I would have long since gone and be fertilizing a matmat or grave on the banks of the Sepik River. Not a bad fate for some, no doubt.
I suppose Deb has saved me from myself and for myself. She has been a dedicated wife, mother and in Arthur’s words from “The Minder”, a good little earner over all these years.
To paraphrase Virgil, and in her work it showed, she is in truth a goddess.
She always sees the best in others but this is not to say that Deb is some kind of a milksop – dare I quote from Titus Andronicus and in Aaron’s words: Excuse me for comparing Deb with such a violent play but I do like a ‘violent’: The Bill and Taggart, Deb is certainly not Tamora!! The Queen of the Goths But: Upon her wit doth earthy honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
I myself have a fear of Deb’s disapproval. When I get the fierce look from her she conjures up in my mind those ancient Filipina warrior heroines and easily leaves me begging forgiveness and mercy!! The wrath of the Filipina!!
Deborah, your adopted country has given you recognition with an OAM, your friends and family here hail you as a great, loving and self-sacrificing woman.
The good book tells us that it is not good that a man should live alone and he should cleave unto his wife, well Deb, I’m now doing a bit of cleaving!
Filipina, Australian, wife, mother, teacher, writer, social worker, journalist, reconciler, scholar, student and virtuous, beautiful woman, all of these things and more, we greet you and thank you.
In accord with the family’s Filipino and Polish connections I’ll say to you Deb: Sige Deborka !! And welcome to your Seniors Card.
A few words spoken at my brother, Frank’s, funeral
Funeral for Francis de Berigny Wall
I’m David, Frank’s brother, and he was also my godfather. I don’t know what ecclesiastic dispensations facilitated this!
What can I say of Frank or Bab as he was known to us. His greatest quality was his enthusiasm for all aspects of his life: a school boy at St Pat’s, Goulburn, on the land, in the AIF, RAAF, RAF, Qantas, as a golfer and V de P worker.
Why do I say he looked on the bright side of things, two examples: at St Pat’s the treatment of the boys was pretty rough – terrible food and a lot of belting around, Frank always said that this was the best training for boys as you never saw an ex-Christian brother boy disturbed by initial recruit training in the forces – they’d never had it so good.
In his fifties he had all his teeth out, I told him this was mad, but he said no, as now he could eat a hot pie and drink a cold beer.
In some ways Bab was a Graham Geeene character motivated by social justice and his Catholicism – the afterlife was a reality, but the world offered many attractions on the journey to eternity. I see aspects of Frank in Scobie, Bendrix and Monsignor Quixote.
In the afterlife no doubt he will be having a drink with Knut, his brother-in-law, and discussing the old days in Brighton-Le- Sands at the RSL – stand up for the group captain! – the call from the patrons. Numerous relations and friends would, I’m sure, welcome him: Our mother and father, Reg our uncle, and Em, our great aunt. I wonder if Em would recall what she said to my grandmother when she returned from China and our grandfather had died: “Don’t be bring any more of your corpses back here.”
I can see members of his Wellington and Lancaster crews swapping yarns with him and Irish and his mates from Qantas talking to each other.
Bab believed in the Communion of Saints: the church militant, the church suffering and the church triumphant, and as a pilot with Vaughan Williams in mind I see Bab as The Lark Ascending and recall the words of Robert Louie Stevenson when speaking of James Chalmers, the great New Guinea missionary : “A man whom I admire for his virtues and love for his faults.”
I would like to recall a piece that my father loved and often quoted from The Passing of Arthur by Tennyson:
The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me?
I have lived my life, and that which I have done
May He within himself make pure! but thou,
If thou shouldst never see my face again,
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of.
As Paul wrote to Timonthy and I’ll apply it to you, Bab:
You have fought the good fight, you have finished the race, you have kept the faith.
I extend my special condolences to his daughters Kate and Libby, and to Tris and Derek who looked after him so well in the last years of his life.
Lastly I would like to read an email to me from Frank’s nephew, Dominic:
Dear David
So sorry to hear about Frank’s passing. Ironically I have been at The Open Championship in Scotland and if it was not for Frank I would not have been introduced to this great game and not employed by the international governing body, The R&A. I have much therefore to thank Frank for and will miss him.
Would you please pass on my regards to Libby and Catherine as unfortunately I will be in Nepal this coming Friday on a work related trip that I cannot change. Please apologise for me….I will be thinking of Frank and you all on the day.
Kind regards
Dom
A few words at JB’s 70th birthday party
70th Birthday Party of John Bowers held at Irene Graham’s house in Gordon on 7/5/10
John a true Victorian, in a sense a 19th Century man, he deals mainly with the respectable institutions in society: the Army, the Law and the Church
John Bowers, an Englishman abroad; I’m not in any sense comparing him with Guy Burges.
It must be well over forty years since I first met John on the banks of the Sepik River at Angoram. From the start I could see that he was a man on a mission and a quest. There was no mistaking him for anything else but an Englishman. Another English friend of mine was once asked, was he English? To which he replied, ‘are there any other people?’ John, I’m sure, would not be so abrupt. But yes, he was in a sense a latter day Empire representative, if indeed the colonial outpost was Australian rather than English but we were all British in those days!
It did not take me long to realize that John was a Sandhurst man and ex-British Army with intense spiritual interests with a dedication to the Authorized Version and the Book of Common Prayer. In Angoram he was a Patrol Officer and political educator. On my blog I describe JB as, An Englishman of many talents, John Bowers
John Bowers, British Army, Sandhurst Man, Patrol Officer, Teilhardian, He subsequently put aside The Phenomenon of Man by Teilhard de Chardin for McCann’s God or gorilla, Special Branch Officer, Judge’s Associate, New-Age Fighter, Anglican Prayer Book Man, Premillennialist and Herbalife Consumer, A Most Extraordinary Man!
The fictional character, Ernest Spender, in Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk, shows a remarkable resemblance to JB.
His world-wide quest has taken him to many places, meeting many people: He shared a whisky with Field Marshal Alexander’s chaplain, a committee with Arianna Stassinpoulos, author of The Female Woman, alerted Brother George, a biblically inspired Cannon Hill Baptist to the dangers of the New-Age after his experiences at Findhorn and his reading of David Spangler, Revelation:The Birth of a New Age. He instructed Cheryl, an aspirant of the Cannon Hill congregation on New Light on the New Age. His intense instruction on one occasion caused Brother George’s wife to ask him what Cheryl and he were doing in the caravan. In no uncertain terms he told her that they were working on the New-Age for her husband. Perhaps his instruction was not intense enough as it was said that Cheryl converted to Islam later He was washed in the waters of the Jordon with full Baptist rites while in no way turning his back on his Anglican tradition. He has discussed The Secular City with Harvey Cox in the Holy Land and been left by Brother George with an appreciation of the Dry Bones (Ezekiel 37: 4) He has revealed to Dr Patricia Brennan his position on the ordination of women at an Anglican Synod in Sydney and excused it with reference to the Sandhurst motto: Serve to lead.
But he had to admit to Dr Brennan at lunch that he didn’t support the ordination of women.
In the hills of Adelaide a holy father in a monastery took exception to John’s reference to finding the Special Branch in a cupboard, and took him by the throat. There was nothing Neanderthal about the holy father or John!
| John a red-blooded male has chosen, like the Lord the single state while being always drawn to women he always respects them In spite of, at times, the gloom and doom of his theology, he has always preserved an essential Joie de vivre. Even if we are in the Tribulation There is faith hope and charity and the rapture of the Lord. | |||
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. (Ephesians 6: 12)
If I may say, on a more serious note, I would like to thank John on mine and my wife, Deborah’s behalf for all that John has done for us and our two sons, Andrei and David Augustus. When we returned from PNG John was a pillar of strength and support for us.
Ladies and Gentlemen I give you John Bowers, Alias Sir Ernest Spender!
Whether it’s breaking up a riot in PNG or saving a plane of returning military families in Karachi or refusing to cross the Tiber and remaining true to his Reformation ideals we can say with St Paul you’ve Fought The Good Fight,( nearly) Finished The Race, Kept The Faith (2 Timothy 4:7)
Like St Paul you have been all things to all men and may I add women (1 Corinthians 9:10)
Happy Birthday, 70 years and still going strong!
Not old age not new age but just John Bowers, A man for all seasons.
Perhaps I might be forgiven for saying that there is something of the Rapture about this convivial gathering here tonight! And for this we owe a lot of thanks to Irene.
Thank you and God bless you, John.
Aunty Ali’s 70th Birthday Party
Aunty Ali Golding's 70th Birthday Party
Aunty Ali Golding is a highly respected and prominent Aboriginal elder and at her 70th birthday celebration, she was given a number of moving tributes from her family and friends. I’m afraid that my rather stumbling and inadequate words didn’t do her justice. But for what they are worth here they are.
What can I say about Ali, and what do I like about her? It is her boundless sense of humour and basic humanity. She treats all people with like regard and sends a message of reconciliation – not that she suffers fools or bullies lightly. I once asked her how she reacted to the rude and unkind?“I flatten them.” I’m sure she only meant this figuratively, but then again, she could have learnt some moves from her friend Choc. She can be fierce in the face of injustice.
As regards humour – her dear sister, Anne, who is no longer with us once claimed that she had a vegetable that cured everything. Later Anne told us about a medical complaint she had. I looked at Ali and mentally we exchanged thoughts as if to say why Anne didn’t try her ‘cure-all’?
A friend of mine once said that he didn’t have to try and find God because God finds him whenever he opens his eyes or mind, as it were. Likewise, I suspect with Ali that God finds her.
As Pete said, you have mixed with the great of many lands and places – the Queen and Nelson Mandela. But you, Ali, are the greatest!
You are not easily surprised but I did surprise you once when I told you that I was moving into ‘the Block’ (Redfern).
Ali, you are the deadliest of the ‘deadlies’ – one in a million, we all love you.
Thank you for your friendship to our family, and happy birthday!
Tributes to James de Berigny Wall at his funeral, given by his son, Dominic, his brother, David, and his friend, Tom Hayes, 10th September 2004 at Holy Trinity Church, Curtin.
On behalf of our family, and in particular Geraldine, I would like to welcome and thank everyone for attending today’s ceremony to farewell my father, James.
To day is a sad day because we say goodbye to Dad but it is also a day to celebrate the life of James, someone who was special to many people and someone who helped many who crossed his path.
Dad was initially diagnosed with cancer almost 12 years ago. He fought the disease, won and we were blessed that he was by our side over the last 12 years.
In late 2003 he was again diagnosed with cancer but unfortunately this time it was more advanced and aggressive and the doctor indicated that he would not live past Easter. Again, he fought the disease and showed great strength to make it to last Sunday, Father’s Day. My sister Caitilin commented that Father’s Day was an appropriate day given that Dad was such a great father!
The last three weeks of his life he spent in Clare Holland House was a special time at a special place. He was surrounded by those he loved and was cared for by the wonderful staff at Clare Holland. He again fought hard during his days at Clare Holland and was driven by the goal of arranging a surprise party for my mother on the 1st September. This will be a treasured memory for all who attended. A special present, champagne, cake and good friends – what more could you ask for!
In all the time of my Dad’s illness I never heard him once complain and he always remained positive. Even while his body faded he never sought pity and he seemed to accept his fate with an inner strength that you could not help but to admire. He kept his sense of humour and seemed more concerned about those he loved than himself. He was an inspiration and I am sure today he is sending his love to us from Heaven above.
During his illness many people helped both my father and mother in many ways. There are too many to name and on behalf of the family I would like to express our sincere appreciation. I would however especially like to thank the following people:
I have already mentioned the staff at Clare Holland House who were wonderful, as were the community and palliative care helpers who attended James at home. Thank you again – you all did and do an outstanding job.
Tom Hayes, Rob Hutchison, Frank and Madeline Harvey – thank you for spending so much quality time by Dad’s side. He was blessed to have such great friends and you provided so much joy to him.
Father Tony Frey – thank you also for the time and support you showed my father and mother. I knew this was very special to Dad.
And finally to my mother, Geraldine – the love, care and support you showed Dad was truly inspirational. We know that you feel Dad’s loss more than anyone but I am sure he will be with you through the days ahead.
Finally, my father was a very thoughtful and spiritual man and proud that his book, What Do We Know, What Can We Believe? was published in 2001. I would like to leave you with some words from this book, as he was always very fond of quotes.
In talking about the qualities we should espouse in life he said:
“Such qualities include compassion for other men and women and exclusion of none from our charity. Humility and strength of purpose and an overpowering lack of concern for self would seem to be required.”
I am sure Dad achieved these qualities. If we too can follow in his footstepswe will also have lead an exceptional life.
Dominic de B Wall
———————————————————————————————-
James de Berigny Wall
17th May 1929 – 5th September 2004
I shall read a letter written to James on 12th November 1929:
Darling James,
I will be leaving you in a few weeks and the memories of your boyhood will be ever fresh in my memory. You are the sweetest baby I have nursed, with a wonderful nature – a smile for everyone. You are six months on Sunday 17th and I have been only a week away from you since birth. My one wish to you is – you will be a fine man and credit to your Mother and Father – who both love you.
Your nurse,
Muriel I Ledsham
Muriel, your wish has truly been fulfilled!
To paraphrase Homer (James) you have been the best of men and never put to shame the lineage of your father.
As David Biles said of your book:
“It is a humbling, and yet moving experience to share in this work.” I would agree and add to also share in your life.
Fells as he was known to the family – a name our father gave him derived from a children’s story that talked of a “little fellow” which our father shortened to “Fells”.
Fells was born in Sydney and in the early thirties, the family moved from Chatswood back to Melbourne – the hometown of both my mother’s and father’s families. My mother’s grandparents married in Melbourne in 1857 – her grandfather, Thiennette de Berigny practised medicine at 127 Collins Street. The Walls came from Shepherd’s Bush, London and Tosh Wall became one of the biggest bookies in Melbourne and the owner of Vanity Fair who came 2nd in the Melbourne Cup in the early 1900s. The Masons came from New Zealand and settled in Melbourne after Thomas, our grandfather, won a fortune on Carbine – winning the Melbourne Cup in the early 1890s.
Anyhow, James was the loved one of our great Aunts and Uncle. The Aunts were women in the Victorian Edwardian mode, stern and practical. To give you an example of what I mean, when our grandmother and grandfather returned from China in 1911, our grandfather, Charles de Berigny died. Em, our great aunt is reputed to have said to Alice, our grandmother and her younger sister, “Don’t be leaving anymore of your corpses here.” But these old women loved James.
After some years in Melbourne, we moved to Narrandera and subsequently after some years to Leeton. The move to Narrandera meant for James a short period at school at the local convent and then a stint at St Pat’s in Goulburn, where eventually my brothers, Peter and James were taken out of because they were virtually starved there.
At the convent in Narrandera, James was called ‘muscles’ because of his slight build. It is interesting to note that my son, Andrei, at primary school because of his very similar build to James was called ‘bones’. Because he is now in England, he can’t be with us but he was very upset to hear about the death of his uncle.
Throughout his life, James delighted us with his engaging, charming, and fetching sense of humour. It is in response to this that I reveal James’ ability as a playwright. While living in Leeton, he co-authored with Frank, our brother, the play King Zog of Albania, a work of wit and local colour animated with characters such as “Tricky Italian researchers – the idiom and pronunciation is as I said it, “White City and Mrs Jack”. Unfortunately, all copies of this classic are lost! It only had one performance. I know most of you will have no idea of what I’m talking about just now. But I do want to share this with James as I’m sure he’s looking down on us.
From St Pat’s, James and Peter went to Riverview. Let’s move on to the end of 1946 and the beginning of 1947. James, Peter and I were sent to the old Aunts’ place at Mount Macedon. After a holiday there, James announced to our father that he was not going back to school as he had got a job in Snow’s Department Store as a Sales Assistant. It seems that this was allowed and the next we heard of James was that he was on danger money working for an explosives company. This was when our father did intervene.
From here, James had a variety of jobs on sheep and cattle properties and also working as a stock and station agent at Taralga. He also worked as an insurance salesman with Australasian Catholic Assurance. On one property near Albury, he read the Bible from cover to cover and decided to enter the priesthood. But before he did this at the beginning of 1954, our father took him to a University Catholic Federation Conference at Sancta Sophia in Sydney University. For James this was a conference of destiny, for it was here that he met Geraldine. We have always believed that Geraldine said to James that if he decides not to become a priest or leaves the Seminary, she would be waiting. But recently Geraldine said that this is wrong. In fact she says that our father took her aside and told her to convince James not to become a religious as he was the least likely of his sons and daughters to make a success of it. However, after four years in St Dominic’s Priory, Camberwell, James did come out and Geraldine and James did meet and the rest is history.
It appears our father did come to believe that James would make a success of the religious life before he left, but when he left, he rationalized it by saying that a family needs generations of Catholicism to produce priests. Apart from Mary McCauliffe, his grandmother, the source of both families’ Catholic beliefs, yes, I did say both families on my mother’s and father’s side – my mother and father were first cousins, but that’s another story. That little Irish woman, Mary McCauliffe, has a lot to answer for in turning the de Berignys, Walls, and Masons from the Reformed faith!
After he left St Doninic’s, James studied Social Work at the University of Adelaide and then at the University of Melbourne. The later part of James’ life will be elaborated on by Tom Hayes.
James was always his own man, in many ways, a very private person. He kept his worries generally to himself as I think he did not want to worry others – a sensitive person, a loyal son, great brother, cousin, wonderful husband, father and uncle, grandfather, dedicated public servant and social worker, a splendid cook. James, for all of these qualities, we thank you.
James’ faith was grounded on hope and charity. James loved humanity and his life affirmed this. Like Ruth (in the Book of Ruth), he did not abandon or forsake us, we were all his people, and his God is our God. Death does not separate us from him. Au Revoir, dear brother, we shall see each other again.
In a birthday book of my mother’s under 17th May she has written: James de Berigny Wall under a quote from The Psalm of Life, is an apt message that I’m sure James would like to leave the living:
“Let us then be up and doing with a heart for any fate; still achieving, still pursuing, learn to labour and to wait.”
David A de B Wall
——————————————————————————————-
James de Berigny Wall, Born in Sydney, 17 May 1929, Died Canberra, 5 September 2004aged 75
James was a rare kind of man. He was naturally good. He left a trail of goodness wherever he involved himself. He did good things and inspired others to do good things. This was not because he had an eye for how he might be regarded or even because he wanted to build up credits with St Peter. He didn’t have time for that kind of thing. He did good things simply and naturally. That was just the way he was.
I am going to take you on a brief but incomplete tour of James’ professional life because I think that shows us a lot about James.
James’ first job was as a Youth Parole Officer with the Victorian Department of Social Welfare. This was a job that meant dealing with 14 year old delinquents. These were the “toughies”. Today most of those people would be in their late fifties or early sixties. I like to think that if I could find some of them, perhaps on the park benches in Fitzroy gardens, or more likely in the Board Rooms on Collins St, they would remember James for his gentleness and unconditional charity.
Here is a small example of how James sought to make a contribution in addition to holding down a difficult job and supporting a family. While he was in Melbourne he became very involved with the Social Workers Association. Those were the days of the “engineer’s case”. James was at the forefront in the battle by the Association for comparable salary justice for social workers who in those days were mostly women. They were successful but after a long struggle.
Also while they were living in Melbourne James and Geraldine joined the organization known as the Teams of Our Lady. It was very early days in Australia for that organization and James and Geraldine were amongst the handful of pioneers who got it off to a wonderful start. Today as many of you will know the organization is widespread and is a great source of strength and grace for married couples.
In the mid sixties James switched to the Victorian Office of the Department of Veteran Affairs and a few years later to the Rehabilitation Division of Social Security in Canberra. The family gave up their home in Doncaster and settled in Curtin. That was 1969.
After six years in the Department of Social Security James moved to the Welfare Division of the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet. This was just at the end of the Whitlam era and the beginning of the Fraser years.
I think it was while James was in PM&C that he got entangled in a committee trying to deal with the Aboriginal Tent Embassy. One of the members of the Committee was an Aboriginal elder, Chicka Dickson, who had a background as a wharfie. Chicka was one of the early occupants of the Tent Embassy when it was established in 1972. Chicka obviously thought a lot of James because it wasn’t long before he was calling James “brother”. I doubt this did James much good in PM&C.
A few years later James became the Parliamentary Liaison Officer in the Senate. In this position he worked in the Office of Sir John Carrick, Leader in the Senate and was involved in arranging the Government’s programme of business in the Senate.
I have spoken to Sir John and he remembers James very well as someone who (in his words) was at peace with himself, quietly spoken and very polite but with a good sense of humour. He sends his deepest sympathy.
While James was still working in the Senate he took on the major job of re-editing the Legislative Handbook which is issued to all Government Departments. Most public servants would avoid that task like the plague. But to James it was important to get the documentation right. He was a clear writer with an economical style, exactly what was needed to clean up the Legislative Handbook.
In 1980 James became the Assistant Secretary of the Welfare Branch of the Department of Capital Territory. Without doubt that job has to be the most perilous in the whole ACT. Its most important task is the provision of welfare services for children in trouble. Almost everything it does involves an unresolved conflict between the rights of the child and the interests of the community. It is a great tribute to James’ skills and application that he survived in that job as long as he did.
His colleagues in the Branch remember him fondly, very dedicated, personable and hard working. He is remembered for another rather quaint reason. As I hear it James was by far and away the most successful Branch Head in establishing a good working relationship with Ethel Maquire, who is with us today. Ethel was a prominent, even famous, member of the Branch and I don’t think that she will mind me saying that she has a reputation for saying what she thinks, and for not tolerating fools. It is a fact that there were quite a few higher ups in the Department who would run a mile rather than confront Ethel.
In late 1985 James took early retirement and became the founding CEO for the then brand new Multiple Sclerosis Society of the ACT. It was six months before he received any remuneration for his work. Even then it wasn’t full pay. James only ever received a part time salary even though for many years he worked a full time week and more.
Initially the new organization had only a small office in Hughes shopping centre. But it wasn’t long before it had an empty block in Denison St Deakin and not much longer before it had two brand new buildings, administrative and field staff and a decent computer system. James was a genius in setting up effective committees and getting them to work together. He was a genius too at getting the best out of volunteers. When James asked if you could do something you simply couldn’t refuse. Over 90% of the funds needed by the Society are raised through raffles, READ-a-thons, and other special events such as fetes. By the time that James left the organization at the end of 1900 the Society was delivering extensive support services to many MS sufferers in the ACT and was in good financial shape.
Many people have told me how wonderful James was as CEO of the MS Society. No matter what the problem was he was prepared to work it through. He gave people space to do their thing. He never crowded the scene. He got the best out of everyone. He was very reluctant to criticize. He was a gracious, low keyed CEO who cared deeply for the Society and the people who worked for it.
After leaving in November 1990 James was appointed by the Archbishop for the Archdiocese of Canberra and Goulburn to the position of Chairman of the Board of Mary Mead. Mary Mead is an organization that provides a wide variety of support services to families and children in crisis in the ACT.
James’ close association with Mary Mead went back to his time as Assistant Secretary of the Welfare Branch and possibly, I suspect, a lot further.
The Chairman of the Board of Mary Mead is an unpaid position. It has a Catholic culture you understand! Nevertheless James absorbed himself in the work of Mary Mead almost as if it was another full time job.
Again there has been no shortage of people who wanted to tell me about James at Mary Mead. He was totally supportive and could always see the big picture. He was always sensitive and wise when confronted with difficulty. From time to time he had to cope with angry people and he handled these situations with courage and compassion. He put in incredibly long hours.
The years that James spent with Mary Mead were the years when the world became more litigious and it became essential for Mary Mead to have a thoroughly comprehensive Policy and Procedures Manual. So James sat down and wrote it. It is in excellent plain English, economical and easy to read. James never shirked attending to hard things.
In the second half of the 1990s James had to cope with a string of health problems and it was about 1998 when James eventually relinquished his links with Mary Mead.
So what did he do? Well he wrote a book. It is called What Do We Know,What Can We Believe? It is only a short book but it covers a lot of ground. Typically of James, the English is pared to the bone. Howard Bath was CEO at Mary Mead while James was Chairman and is with us today and this is what he wrote about James’ book:
“James Wall’s reflections take us on a stimulating journey through the significant social, economic, ecological and spiritual issues that exercise contemporary society. He grapples with these issues as a thoughtful, widely read layperson who values his rich Catholic tradition and engages honestly with the world around him. Perceptive, challenging and well reasoned, his insights inform the quest for a meaningful marriage of reason and faith.”
As well as writing his book James found time to do other things. Every Wednesday for the last six years James visited a Miss Lillian Carlton, an elderly lady with impaired vision, and read to her.
He also helped Fr John Ryan with important work at Centre Care. On top of that Archbishop Carroll and Bishop Power called on him from time to time to help with special tasks.
I don’t want to dwell on the last six months. It is too painful, except to say this. Through all his suffering, and there was a hell of a lot of it, James communicated a sense of resignation and remarkable acceptance. He never displayed any angst or emotional distress. In his assessment he had had a good innings and it would be no great tragedy if he passed on.
So James, farewell, my friend, as I said at the beginning you have passed through this world leaving nothing but a trail of goodness. As one of your many friends said about you, “you gave and you gave and you gave.” This makes it especially hard for us all to understand why you have had to go.
Tom Hayes
Alec Guiness and Gough Whitlam make a visit to 152 Wilson Street, Newtown.
Alex Guiness introduces Gough Whitlam and Gough speaks
Correction: Alec …
2010 in review
The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:
The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.
Crunchy numbers
The average container ship can carry about 4,500 containers. This blog was viewed about 17,000 times in 2010. If each view were a shipping container, your blog would have filled about 4 fully loaded ships.
In 2010, there were 68 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 262 posts. There were 191 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 243mb. That’s about 4 pictures per week.
The busiest day of the year was January 5th with 243 views. The most popular post that day was Images from the past.
Where did they come from?
The top referring sites in 2010 were en.wordpress.com, mail.yahoo.com, malumnalu.blogspot.com, mail.live.com, and facebook.com.
Some visitors came searching, mostly for kina, koza, chairman mao, order of service, and harry brown.
Attractions in 2010
These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.
Images from the past January 2010
The Swinging Sixties in Angoram January 2008
13 comments
Dr A.D. Parkinson May 2009
5 comments
Did Chairman Mao Visit Angoram in 1966? October 2009
7 comments
The waters of the Sepik River are an elixir of political life!
It wasn’t Sogeri Secondary School that launched the political life of Sir Michael Somare or Cambridge University, Michael Johnson’s political endeavours, nor was it the London School of Economics, that propelled Ben Sana Wyatt into State politics but the waters of the Sepik River.
Sir Michael Somare, PM of PNG and his parents Ludwig Somare Sana and Painari all drank deeply of the Sepik River waters.
Michael Johnson, former member of the Federal Electorate of Ryan in Queensland and the son of Peter and Julie Johnson who brought Michael up on the banks of the Sepik River all drank of the waters.
Ben Sana Wyatt, MLA, State member of Victoria Park in Western Australia whose parents, Cedric and Janine Wyatt, lived for years on and near the Sepik River are all familiar with the waters of the Sepik.
All the parents of these political figures consumed vast quantities of Sepik River water and it is this that gave their offspring the fortitude to pursue their political lives.
Family and friends gather for a matriarch’s 80th birthday celebration
The feast was set and the guests and relations had met to celebrate Claire de Witt’s 80th birthday.
On a sunny first of January in suburban Sydney this occasion got off to a lively start in the house of Claire’s daughter and son-in-law, Margaret and Konrad, they were known for the lavishness of their hospitality, and the spread they provided on this occasion rendered most of the adults inebriated shortly after their arrival.
A friend of Margaret’s, a divorcee in her forties, arrived with a partner, and was well under the weather on French Champagne shortly after. In her inebriated state she began flirting with the male guests. Her partner created a bit of a stir by announcing after each visit he made to the lavatory that he had been pointing Percy at the porcelain. The host and Claire’s eldest son were seen at various times in the company of the divorcee. Towards the end of the evening ‘Percy’ became intensely jealous of the divorcee’s behaviour and wanted to fight a number of the males, he even threatened Margaret.
The food and drink were going at a great rate with numerous grandchildren running about, and largely unsupervised. Music, dancing and swimming all created an atmosphere more akin to a splurge in Ancient Rome than to middle class suburban Sydney.
A fly on the wall would wonder what Claire de Witt thought of it all – the near adulterous liaisons and even worst still, the sexual and physical abuse of a little five-year-old by a teenage boy.
There were a few poor and inarticulate speeches given supposedly in praise of Claire’s eighty years of life and achievement. Margaret had to leave the proceedings early to drive a Melbourne guest to the airport and upon returning she was threatened by ‘Percy’.
You couldn’t really say that a good time was had by all, not at least in the moral sense, but perhaps there were some who attended felt that the event honoured Claire.
Claire’s long deceased husband, an admirable man and sterling Catholic in life would have been outraged by the whole event and absolutely appalled by the abuse of his grandchild.
As the Bard said: “ Men’s evil manners live in brass…”
Dieter Erich Paul Idzikowsky 23 February, 1938 – 22 January, 2011
Dieter with Peter Johnson, Sepik Ironman Competition, 07/06/2009
Dieter with Chris Rose, Wewak Yacht Club, 07/06/2009
I was shocked to receive an email from Chris Rose informing me that Dieter had died on 22/01/2011:
“Dieter passed away Saturday, 5pm teeing off number 9, it was very quick and painless. We took him to the hospital and they tried resuscitation but to no avail. As you know, he was a good mate to lots of people here and will be sorely missed.”
A Requiem Mass was said for him at Christ the King Cathedral, Wewak.
Peter Johnson CBE gave the eulogy:
DIETER
To many of you he was just “Dieter” perhaps most did not know his surname, but some loved, most were fond of, and all respected him and acknowledged his helpful ways and engineering skills… we are the richer for having known him; the poorer for his passing.
Dieter was my very good friend for over thirty years. His sudden and totally unexpected death has been devastating.
None of us know the time or place when and from where we shall be called to meet our maker. It is certain that last Saturday Dieter had no intimation that his time was running out. He died mercifully quickly and painlessly after collapsing whilst playing on the Wewak golf course… as his friend Steve Taylor said, “He was where he liked to be, and doing what he liked best to do!”
Dieter Erich Paul Idzikowsky was born on 23 February, 1938 at Grunberg-Schlesien, near Dessau, East Germany shortly before the outbreak of WWII. After leaving school he served an apprenticeship as a toolmaker and motor mechanic with a company associated with the famous Mercedes motor company. He then served for a brief period in the army.
Life was not easy for the Idzikowsky family in Russian occupied East Germany, and in 1956 Dieter, moved to West Germany where he worked as a motor mechanic for AG Pollux.
In 1963 Dieter, together with his younger brothers, Klaus and Peter emigrated to find a new and more rewarding life in Australia. Peter later moved to South Africa where he married, prospered, and died several years ago… it was a disappointment to both Dieter and Klaus that the three brothers did not meet again.
Dieter worked mainly in Tasmania and Western Australia. It was in Perth, Western Australia that he met with, the Rosper family who informally adopted him. Mr. Rosper passed away some time ago at an elderly age. Mr. Rosper and his son Werner visited Dieter in Wewak some years ago… Werner remained a very close friend of Dieter’s and will no doubt be grieving as we do today.
In 1970 Dieter came to Papua New Guinea to help his brother Klaus, who had established Pedford Constructions Limited, a civil engineering company engaged in road building and maintenance in the Lumi/Nuku area of the Sepik District.
Following the sale of Pedford Construction and departure of Klaus from PNG, Dieter worked firstly for the Sepik Coffee Producers Association, managing the large workshop at Maprik, then for Sepik Coffee/Sepik Construction in Wewak.
It was Dieter Idzikowsky’s great desire to become a Papua New Guinea citizen, to this end he held a glowing reference and recommendation from Prime Minister, Sir Michael Somare (a friend and golfing partner!). Unfortunately the timing was wrong and no citizenship committee meetings took place for some years. Dieter decided most reluctantly that he must leave New Guinea to meet the residency requirements for Australian citizenship. Awaiting naturalisation, he worked in Cairns for English Engineering Limited between 2004 and 2006 as their tradesman training manager – Mr. English has constantly tried to lure Dieter back to his job in Cairns!
Dieter married his bride and long-time partner, Pricilla, in Cairns in 2003.
Immediately following his naturalisation as an Australian citizen, Dieter volunteered for work as manager of the Bishop of Wewak’s mechanical workshop which he has brought from chaos to good order.
Dieter in his day was a fine sportsman, playing top grade soccer with Perth United and boxing to Commonwealth Games standard. He showed his sporting endurance by twice appearing at the Sepik Ironman Challenge as a swimmer and its oldest competitor.
He took part in Wewak social and sporting events from darts at the Yacht Club to weekly golfing competitions and Hash House Harrier runs and private chess matches… he usually won the darts and chess games!
Dieter not only took part in events, but also took major responsibility for organising and promoting them. He was a founder member and life member of the golf and yacht clubs, vice-president of the former and commodore of the latter for eleven years… he was deeply distressed at the alien and deceitful manner in which this position was usurped – the long term result of which is only too obvious today!
Dieter Idzikowsky was a genuinely honourable man who spoke his mind, and spoke the truth. (He also spoke four languages!) He disliked falsehood and sophistry. To declare a false golf score or engage in shonky business deals would be complete anathema to him. He deplored such traits in others. He was a loyal friend to many, and did not forget them just because their paths diverged, as condolences received from many overseas countries testify.
The Christian Church preaches that “we bring nothing into this world, and it is certain that we shall take nothing out.” Whilst this is undoubtedly true, it is also true that we leave something; reputation, example and something in the hearts of those we leave behind.
Dieter was a humble, decent, hard-working and life-loving man, a good friend to many; a wonderful friend to me for which I give thanks and offer sincere condolences to his young widow, Priscilla, to all his relatives and friends and to the people of the East & West Sepik Provinces whose lives he touched in some greater or lesser way!
(Dieter Erich Paul Idzikowsky 23 February, 1938 – 22 January, 2011)
Peter Johnson
Farewell Dieter, you deserve the best the afterlife can offer.
David Wall
Letters that didn’t make it to the press!
In the piece, (“Catholics need more than ads to come home”, January 28), Fr Hodgens puts his finger on a major problem in the Church. In my words, Catholicism’s obsession with the bedroom has hardly served the institution or its members well in the past or indeed in the present! If only the Church would become more like Dorothy Sayers and “…care less and less who goes to bed with whom.”
The return of the ‘Golden Tonsils’ (“A big day for John Laws”, February 1) to 2SM has been compared to the Second Coming, but a more apt theological comparison would have been the Rapture, where he and his admirers are etherized and wafted into eternity.
Stop public aid to private schools
Richard Ackland’s (“Religiously follow the rules, or catch church in bed with state”, February 4), raises the still contentious issue of state aid to non-government schools.
Since the early 1960s the Commonwealth has poured massive amounts of money into non-government schools. To question the wisdom of this in terms of national policy is legitimate. Most would agree that this has had disastrous financial implications on state schools, to say nothing about the abandonment of the principle of equity in government education policy.
The ideological rationale for the existence of non-government schools ranges from the religious to mundane considerations like class values. The raison d’etre for establishment of Catholic schools was and continues to be, to pass on the faith. By any measure today they are most unsuccessful in doing this. The vast majority of Catholics leaving school don’t practise the faith.
With the present openness of Australia to the world and its beliefs, it’s not beyond anyone’s imagination that the state could end up financing schools that are ideologically opposed to our secular liberal society.
How can anyone justify state aid to schools like Riverview and Kings after looking at some of our high schools in the Western suburbs?
The state should provide a first class education in its own schools that are open to all, and if some parents want to send their children to non-government schools that is their right, but it is not their right to expect the state to finance these schools.
An article published in Eureka Street and copied to add a balance to my comments above:
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Home » Vol 21 No 2 > Why private schools need more money
EDUCATION
Why private schools need more moneyCHRIS MIDDLETON FEBRUARY 07, 2011 At this time of year, there is normally a raft of stories about private school fees and government funding. Now, there seems to be a swing in public sentiment towards questioning the level of financial support given to private schools. A recent poll shows 70 per cent of people think the Federal Government gives too much money to private schools. The Australian Education Union, representing state school teachers, is campaigning on the issue, and a number of newspapers and commentators arepushing the same agenda. Such commentary is significant because the Gonski review into Federal funding of schools isunderway. The review may shape the funding of non-government schools for many years to come. But headlines about rising school fees and claims that the majority of funding goes to private schools are full of misinformation and bias, and amount to a campaign against non-government schools. Two images are being projected: the majority of government funding is going to a minority of students in private schools; and that ‘private schools’ refers to wealthy independent schools. In reality, non-government schools educate about one in three of all Australian students, most of whom are educated in Catholic schools and various low fee-paying religious and community schools. The rhetoric hardly acknowledges this. And all schools do not get the same funding. The Socio-Economic Status (SES) score determines whether a school will have as much as 70 per cent of the estimated cost of educating a student in a government school or as little as 13.7 per cent. The AEU and others talk of non-government schools receiving more government funding than state schools. They ignore the fact that state schools receive most of their funding (88 per cent) from state governments. The fact is that if you combine federal and state funding, only 20 per cent of government funding goes to non-government schools that educate one in three Australian students. If critics argue that federal funding of non-government schools should reflect the percentage of students in the two sectors, why does the same argument not apply to the level of state funding? Students at government schools receive about twice as much government funding as students at non-government schools. Also, contrary to perceptions of ever-increasing funding of non-government schools, Productivity Commission data shows a 1.2 per cent increase in funding to government schools in recent years, compared to a 1.6 per cent decrease in non-government schools. Critics claim that private school fees have risen by about 100 per cent in the past ten years against an inflation rate of 37 per cent. It is implied that this gap between inflation and the rise in fees is because private schools are greedy. However, inflation in the area of education is much higher than average. The Government’s Average Government School Recurrent Cost (AGSRC) index measures inflation in the educational sector and determines the per capita increases each year. Every year this is higher than the inflation rate. The biggest educational expenses are salaries which have consistently (and rightly) gone up by more than the inflation rate each year. Other fast increasing costs include the heavy technology component which has climbed dramatically over the past decade. Additionally, normally non-government schools do not get any funding for capital works such as new buildings. Therefore independent private schools have to factor building expenses into their fees, and many rely largely on fundraising to minimise the impact on fees. In the government sector the construction of new buildings is met by the Department of Education. Aside from the specific issues of funding and fees, Catholic schools can claim to have contributed enormously to the Australian community, and thus make a claim for some funding on the basis of the common good. The historic success of immigration and multiculturalism in Australia owes something to Catholic schools that played a role in the integration and advancement of significant migrant groups: Irish, Italian, Maltese, East European, Lebanese, Vietnamese, Filipino. In recent years, Catholic schools have contributed to the education of refugee groups such as those from East Timor. Every unaccompanied minor among the asylum seekers at Woomera and Baxter (all Muslims) was given a place in South Australia’s Catholic schools. Indirectly also, Catholic schools, as a backbone of the Catholic community, underpin a Church that is the largest non-Government provider of welfare, healthcare and aged care services in Australia. In countless other areas of Australian life (the arts, sport, healthcare, to name a few), governments subsidise private endeavour — and the fabric of Australian life would be the poorer without it. It would be ironic if government funding of the non-government sector was seen to be under threat because its investment in our young had proved to be too successful.
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Fr Chris Middleton SJ is the Principal of St Aloysius College, Milson’s Point, in Sydney. This article is an edited extract from his PUBLISHED 12/02/2011
Education for all
Jessica Irvine is so right (”It’s time to cut payments to the well off”, February 11). And with the money saved we could re-create the free tertiary education scheme that Gough Whitlam gave us many years ago.
David Wall Newtown
George Brandis (“Politicians must defend the multicultural project”, February
23) makes a timely reminder to Australians, particularly those of Irish Catholic
descent of just how a religion and race were discriminated against in our past.
Australians today of this heritage would do well to consider this when being
tempted to utter anti-Muslim sentiments against Australians of this persuasion.
Latham shoots straight from the shoulder!
Whatever you think of Mark any fair- minded person would have to say that he’s a straight shooter. You can agree or disagree with him but he says what he thinks, and that’s more than you can say for most of our politicians today, whatever the complexion of their party affiliation.
Take his recent criticism of Prime Minister Julia Gillard that “she is not a naturally empathetic person – displaying, for instance, noticeable discomfort around infant children”. The press or at least The Sun-Herald, February 6, 2011, concludes from this that Latham is saying that those who choose not to have children are unable to love. I can’t see a direct quote of his to support this conclusion but it might reflect the general direction of his thoughts.
In defence of Julia, I don’t think she has ever claimed to be the mother of the nation or for that matter a great supporter of the Christian concept of marriage. Her decision to be childless may well be for very good reasons, after all, Tim Mathieson, her de facto partner, has three adult children, two by a former wife and one love child. This all in all could be said to be enough for both of them, and perhaps inspired her decision to be childless. Love could be said to be in Julia’s circle “… a many-splendored thing.” But if Mark feels that her childless state reflects on her capacity to love he’s entitled to say it.
Whatever Latham says, the Australian taxpayers should realize that his words don’t come cheap, when you consider the considerable Commonwealth Parliamentary Pension he’s on.
(In reference to the title:
IDIOM: straight from the shoulder
hunting, shooting and western
MEANING 1: to hold a gun up at the shoulder and shoot it
SENTENCE 1: Hold the gun and shoot it straight from the shoulder.
MEANING 2: to be frank
SENTENCE 2: I want to hear the news, good or bad. Let’s hear it, straight from the shoulder.
DERIVATION: The usual way of shooting a gun is to hold it level and pressed to the shoulder.
Source: American English Sports And Games Idioms)
Is there anyone out there who remembers or knows of Stuart Brown?
Rob Parer wrote:
February 1, 2011 at 1:08 pm
Hi David,
I wonder if anyone remembers Stuart (Stuey) Brown ( Ghekko ) who was croc shooting/recruiting in the late 50s and told me so many wonderful stories of Angoram. In 1960 he was under the “Dog Act ” for the third time and the law was, after three times the person had to be deported.
My Dad ( Bob ) was in Wewak going south for three months and the OIC Police in Wewak told Dad about Stuey and Dad ,said, “send him up to Aitape as no grog there.”
So when I met the Gibbs’ Norseman weekly flight, Stuart walked up to me with a letter from Dad saying: “Herewith one Stuart Brown he is an alcoholic. Give him a room in our home at St Anna Plantation, and find something for him to do and make sure that he does not touch grog for if he does, he must be deported”
I was only 23 and here was a guy who I found out later had an amazing war record – an Officer who had been Mentioned in Dispatches twice and had escaped from the Germans twice! So, as he was good with a compass, he did the boundaries of a new Cocoa Plantation which we were going to hack out of the jungle across Raihu River from the Hansenite Colony (Now called Raihu Hospital).
After the war, he went to India and was in charge of a province. When he was in Aitape with us there was also a liklik Doctor Nevell there who had spent many years in India, so you can imagine the interesting stories they had to tell. The wonderful Nevell family went on to be based in Angoram.
Stuart stayed with us for two years and had to go to Australia, as he was diagnosed with TB. He was at the RSL Hospital at Pullenvale, Brisbane. I’m not sure when he passed away, or where he is buried. I would like to know.
I found him to be one of the finest men I have ever come across. And how privileged I was as a young man to have been influenced by a person with an enormous sense of fair play and honesty.
I salute the memory of a gentleman of the highest order.
Rob Parer
Changing attitudes to social mores
I’m reminded of something that happened in Maprik in the East Sepik District in 1970.
David Hay, the Administrator of PNG, and his wife, Alison, were on a visit to outstations and sub-district administrative centres in the Territory prior to them leaving.
On arriving in Maprik they were to stay with the Assistant District Commissioner (ADC). On learning that the ADC was living with a woman without the benefit of nuptials, Alison refused to stay with them, and David Hay and his wife were housed elsewhere.
Let us project ourselves to present-day Australia. Julia Gillard, our PM, is living with a man without the benefit of nuptials, and apparently it’s not considered good form to even comment, poor Alison!
I do really think Julia would be doing herself and the Australian community a favour if she regulated her association with ‘the first bloke’, Tim Mathieson. You can’t tell me that her travelling overseas with Tim creates a good impression in conservative countries in Asia, Africa and South America to say nothing of Australasia and the Pacific Islands, where there are many ‘Alisons’ still alive.
So Julia, get your act together and make an honest man of Tim, if not for yourself at least for your country!
Queen Victoria, it is said, would shut her eyes and think of England when making love to Albert. I’m certainly not asking Julia to emulate her in this, but only to share Queen Victoria’s abounding love of country.
Art Dealer in the Last Unknown Ron Perry and New Guinea Art by Carolyn Leigh and Ron Perry
Only US $35 + US $15 postage to Australia (With the value of the Aussie $ a very good deal!)
Art Dealer in the Last Unknown
Art Dealer in the Last Unknown is a narrative and visual experience down memory lane for those who know Ron Perry, New Guinea and many of the people mentioned in the book. To see the mighty Sepik River again and to be introduced into the rich cultural heritage of the region and how Ron was able to access it and collect amazing examples of Sepik art is a telling tale of enterprise and adventure. Names of legendary characters pop up throughout the account: Peter and Meg England, Bob Mackie, Chu Leong, Freddie Eichhorn, Neils and Mary Madsen, Jim McKinnon, Fr John O’Toole, Margaret Mead, Peter Johnson, John Pasquarelli, Ludwig Somare, Michael Somare, Don Bosgard (mistakenly spelt ‘Bosquard’), Ron and Ella Lucas, Johnny Young, Daniel Guren and many others. All these names conjure up in my mind numerous untold stories. To be introduced to Ron’s former wife, Barbara, again reminds me of what she once said to me at their house in Abbottsford, Sydney, the morning after Ron and I had been on a lively drinking day and evening session: “David, if Ron ever develops cirrhosis of the liver, it’s you I’m going to sue.” I didn’t know the story about Bob Mackie unknowingly peeing on ‘the Pork Pie King of England’, who incidentally was , if I recall correctly, Norm Ferris, but I always understood it was Doug Newton, but perhaps it was both of them. The profusion of place names like Angoram, Amboin, Dreikikir, Maprik, Wewak.Yangoru and Tobacco Road cannot fail to captivate the local and expat reader.
And for those who are entering the unknown for the first time, a thrilling and informative experience awaits them.
The photos in the book are excellent and numerous.
This is a piece of work that is informed by the variety of Ron Perry’s experiences and enriched with the artistry and presentation of Carolyn Leigh.
It is highly recommended to all old New Guinea hands and to those of a curious, artistic and adventurous turn of mind.
“Explorer’s wife dies”
Yerima Taylor dies
Peter Johnson CBE writes:
“Dave … may be of some interest; Jim Taylor’s widow, Meg’s mother! I met
her a couple of times, but mostly was passed by her on the Highlands
Highway. She drove a landrover at speed, and was perhaps the first lady
driver in the Highlands…….Pj ”
Sorcery in PNG
"Post-Courier" 4 March 2011
Peter Johnson sent me this cutting from the Post-Courier, and the question of sorcery and supposed witchcraft in PNG reminded me of something Fr John O’Toole told me about many years ago in Dreikikir. One of his parishioners from his mission station at Dagua just outside of Wewak, where he was stationed in the early 1950s, complained of intense pain in the general area of his lower stomach and liver, saying only that “sanguma man kisim mi”. Most white men at the time would have taken this with a grain of salt and put it in the same category as the Australian Aborigines talking about pointing the bone. John was sufficiently concerned to take his parishioner to Wewak to consult Dr John McInernery, the then District Medical Officer. Dr John gave the patient a physical examination and could find nothing obviously wrong, and he was inclined to think he was dealing with a malingerer, but he just wondered, and he was not a man who liked to be left with any lingering doubts about any final diagnosis he might make, so he ordered an x-ray. And just as well he did as the x-ray revealed a foreign object very close to vital organs that would have eventually caused death if not removed.
The interesting thing was that there were no surface signs of how this object had got into the man. The skin was unbroken and intact. The foreign object was a piece of wire which Dr John removed.
In this incident sorcery was used but not in a supernatural sense. The sorcerers had ordered that sanguma be employed to end this man’s life.
Fr F. Mihalic explains this: “sanguma, (sang-guma) (Mel) secret murder committed by orders from sorcerers. The victim is waylaid, short poisoned thorns are inserted into the base of his tongue, causing swelling and loss of speech. Then other thorns (usually from the wild sago plant) are pushed into vital organs, where they cause infection and eventual death.”
The Jacaranda Dictionary and Grammar of Melanesian Pidgin
The actual method employed may not be exactly as described by Fr Mihalic, in the case under discussion, but anyone who has lived in the Sepik would have some awareness of the existence of sanguma.
There are many factors associated with magic, black and otherwise, which are both physical and psychological, and even criminal, to say nothing about any spiritual dimension, if it exists or not. The question of what people actually believe is also important.
I’ll leave the last word with the Bard, in what I hope is a respectful tone, and of course there is some sanction of magic, if indeed it be, of the good variety:
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.”
— William Shakespeare (The Winter’s Tale)
pièce de résistance
(By request, another instalment by J.P. Priestly – long awaited for by many of this blog’s readers.)
Well! Along with “The Wicked Witch from the West” (Gillard) we have “The Humbug from Ohio” (Keneally) – both equally disingenuous, both full of talk and not much action or productive effort for the country, Australia. Certainly, both conniving as the ‘WWW’, stabbed Rudd in the back to gain office, the ‘Ohio Humbug’ gained office dubiously, and ‘jumped ship’ as the leader of the Labor Party, displaying herself as a sore loser and gutless - a bit of acting that would have won her the Academy Award.
Instead of staying on, as the best available leader to do the hard work by making Labor a worthwhile opposition, she quits. Why? The answer is: there is not much glitz and glamour (which is what she is all about) in being Opposition leader. Keneally, by doing what she has done by resigning as Labor leader, has proved she is just a “female show pony” posing like a female glamorous model – long on rhetoric and short on results. The real reason the ‘Ohio Humbug’ has gone to the back bench is, so she’s available to try her hand in Canberra when ‘WWW’ destroys herself in self-mutilation.
She clearly is all show, no substance. The ‘pièce de résistance’, this good Catholic (allegedly) is, she left a ‘black hole’ of $4.5 billion in the budget that is unaccounted. I suppose the ‘Ohio Humbug’ will claim ignorance, but ignorance is no excuse before the law. And then, she will go to confession and absolve herself. Disgraceful! She ought to be charged for fraudulent misrepresentation.
The big difference between ‘WWW’ and the ‘Ohio Humbug’ is one is as ugly as sin; and the other is glamorous and garrulous, but both are inept and insincere.
Finally, I ask: is there any honesty in politics? Or is it the accepted credo of politicians, ‘not how honest you are, but how clever you are at being dishonest’. This is not the ethos of Australians of – honesty, integrity and fairness for all. Let them both go back from where whence they came.
Signed: JPP
The views expressed in this article are those of the author, J.P. Priestley, and don’t necessarily reflect those of this blog.
An appeal for contributors
Don’t be afraid, I’m not asking for money, but only for articles and little bits and pieces of writing on any subjects. J.P. Priestly is a contributor to this blog, and he stirs up a lot of interest with his outspoken comments. Would you like to be a stirrer like J.P.P.? Anything is pretty well accepted as long as it doesn’t land you and me in court. So journalists, reporters, citizens, and non-citizens, go ahead, and put pen to paper. Forward your piece to: mahal362000@yahoo.com.au
I await your stimulating contributions with baited breath.
Be part of a citizen journalist movement, and blog yourself to notoriety!
David Wall
The recent Australian Defence Force Academy sex scandal
If the facts are what we are presented with in the media the community at large is entitled to ask what should be done about the cadets involved?
At the Defence Force Academy there are a number of privileged young men and women who have arrived there through a selection process that has eliminated a number of unsuccessful applicants. Presumably, the successful ones who are accepted are considered the best. The ‘best’ go onto a taxpayers’ funded university education and a career in the armed forces. If they don’t measure up, the Australian taxpayers are not getting value for their money, and they should be expelled from the Academy, to make their way outside at their own expense like most other Australians. The point I’m making is that it is a privilege to attend the Academy, not a right.
All involved in this unsavory affair are from any objective judgement in the wrong: the male cadet who arranged the Skype presentation of his sexual encounter with the female cadet without her knowledge; his fellow cadets who watched; and the female cadet who chose to disregard the rules about fraternisation in the Academy.
Just remember that these cadets are the chosen ones who are destined to be our future officers in the army, navy and air force. They’ve not measured up and they are taking up places at the Academy that may well have gone to more deserving unsuccessful candidates.
Of course, I’m not privy to all that might be said in their defence, but on the face of it, I’d be inclined to give them all their marching orders, and offer their places to others.
What do you think?
PNG not a place to be sick in!
It’s interesting to reflect on Sir Michael Somare being in Singapore for a medical check-up. Not that I blame him for that, but I do blame his government and a succession of others since independence for allowing the health service in the country to be appallingly rundown.
Most government hospitals in PNG are in a state of disrepair, and the delivery of health services in rural area, where it exists, is mainly provided by NGOs.
The likes of Sir Michael are fortunate to have the means to go overseas for medical treatment.
At independence Australia left PNG with a Department of Health that provided, at least, basic health care to the whole population, and a system of sub-district, district, and regional hospitals that could be accessed by most of the population. This medical infrastructure was by no means perfect, but it was a practicable and functioning deliverer of health services in the country that has been allowed to deteriorate.
I hope Sir Michael gets first class care in Singpore but I would much rather he was able to get first class care in PNG.
Just between us!
I don’t want to be seen as a grammarian, which I’m not, and a previous post of mine makes this clear: http://deberigny.wordpress.com/2010/07/16/heedless-of-grammar-they-all-cried-thats-him-revd-r-h-barham/#respond
Aussies do make some terrible blunders, even those of us who should know better. Take the good old preposition between and its clumsy use by many who are prominent in the media.
For the general instruction of all of us, I can do no better than to quote from The World Book Dictionary:
“Between you and me. Prepositions regularly take the objective case of pronouns. When only one pronoun is used, this case is invariably employed: of him, for me, to her. But when two pronouns follow, less educated speakers often use the nominative case of the second, and sometimes of both: between you and I, to her (she) and I. Standard English requires between you and me, to her and me.“
And from the Prayer Book: “Incline our hearts to keep this law.” My readers, please don’t put my blog to the grammatical microscope!
Let the people pee, or at least the males of us!
Before I start I must confess that I’ve always had a soft spot for Clover Moore, and if it’s possible to approve of her more, I do so now, with her innovative and forward thinking initiative in establishing open-air urinals in the Darlinghurst Kings Cross area.
If Clover extends these fine conveniences throughout the city she’ll have my vote forever. Her concern for the men of Sydney is highly commendable. A feminist she might be, but if so, one of the best.
Now a little bit of history, from what I can remember of Sydney in the fifties and sixties there were a number of public lavatories throughout the city serving the peeing and defecating needs of gentlemen, and other males in the city in need of relief. There was no need to pop into a pub, restaurant or other commercially run institution just to go to the loo. But suddenly this all changed with the rapid closure of these public conveniences. Why, I ask, are commercial establishments expected to look after the bladder and bowel needs of non-customers? It’s a disgrace that the city authorities have given up on providing the public with the sites where they can legally relieve themselves.
I remember with fondness the public urinals that our Gallic cousins provided for the males of Paris, when I visited the city in the fifties. But I’ve been informed that they are no longer there. These urinals were wonderful. The only thing visible to passers-by were the lower legs and the shoulders and faces of the urinating males. On one occasion, I observed the gallantry and good manners of a Frenchman when he lifted his hat to a passing lady while using the facility.
Now we come to the stupid laws we have about so called indecent exposure and urinating in public. What in the name of all that’s good and noble does the law expect of busting males when there’s nowhere to go?
Clover, extend the urinals in all the four corners of Sydney and in future turn your keen mind to solving the bowel problems of the citizens. Anyhow, for what you’ve done so far, I thank you!
Good-bye old Port Moresby!
The article below reminds me of two other buildings of cultural and historic significance that have gone: the Papuan Hotel (Top Pub) and the Moresby Hotel (bottom Pub) with the famous snake pit bar. Old PNG hands would lament their passing. With the destruction of the first House of Assembly building goes also the so called European Hospital. I remember this well as I spent three weeks there in 1956.
If anyone knows of photos of these buildings I would appreciate it if I could get copies. Oh, yes, the old Burns Philp tower and building have gone.
Tarangu, olgeta ol i dai pinis.
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Posted: 17 Apr 2011 04:40 PM PDT
The state sold the site to the Lamana Development Group which plans to turn the historical building into a modern hotel.
The one-time seat-of-power is located in downtown Port Moresby, next to the AON Building on McGregor Street.
How the land was obtained and why this iconic building was sold to the developer is not known but contractors began demolition work last week.
David Western Constructions Ltd managing director David Kini said they were contracted by Lamana Development Group, the new owner of the area, to clear up the place.
He said his company had been hired to demolish the old House of Assembly and build a replica of the building that would serve as a hotel.
“We have been instructed by our client to demolish the old building and build a replica of it,” Kini said.
The National visited the site last Friday and saw workmen erecting a fence around the property to stop public access.
It is understood that the national government, through the National Museum and Arts Gallery (NMAG), was owner of the land before its acquisition by the Lamana Development Group.
Nine families who lived in the area were paid K200,000 by the developer and told to move out to make way for construction work to begin.
John Sine, from Chimbu, who has lived in the area for the past 35 years, thought it was a joke when he first saw the contractors.
“It looks like the government does not care about the cultural and historical significance of this place,” he said.
“I will not be surprised if the government and other selfish politicians and people in authority sell the country to foreigners in their greed to acquire more money and wealth.”
The state and concerned parties did attempt to restore the old parliament as a national heritage and former governor-general Sir Paulias Matane headed a committee which attempted to raise funds to restore the building.
Money was committed by government but it is uncertain where these funds might be.
The building was formerly a “whites only” hospital in the 1950s and was turned into a House of Assembly in 1961 when at the insistence of the UN and Australia decided to prepare the former territories of Papua and New Guinea for self-governing status.
Attempts to get comments from NMAG and the Lands Department were unsuccessful.
“The Commonwealth and Queensland Governments have decided to shut down vital tuberculosis clinics in the Torres Strait. Experts now fear that the problem could spread to the mainland.”
http://www.abc.net.au/7.30/content/2011/s3196038.htm
Click onto the above site and try to think of ways to reverse any thoughts by our policy makers to shut down tuberculosis clinics, treating PNG citizens in the Torres Strait Islands.
Drug-resistant strains of TB in PNG are not only disastrous for our neighbour, but if Australia does not help PNG tackle them, eventually and inevitably we will have them in Australia. Of course, there are cases in Australia even now, but we don’t want the situation to get worse!
Hon William Eichhorn MBE died, in Angoram Hospital.
Bill at Korogopa, on the banks of the Keram River, 2009
Email from Peter Johnson CBE:
“Whilst I was in Australia 15-28 April our former MHA, MP and Provincial Government Speaker, Hon William Eichhorn, MBE died in Angoram Hospital. There was a service in Wewak and Bill was then taken to Korogopa for burial amongst his ancestors. There will be many with memories of Bill, and stories to tell. Please pass on to those of your
acquaintances to whom this sad news may be of interest. Age? Dunno, but I was
26 on arrival at Angoram in 1964, Bill had already broken with Fred and left his
position as teacher. I guess he was about 75. I was only told in passing
yesterday…………….Pete.”
A tribute to Bill will be published later.
Sepik Ironman
There is a lot of speculation in Wewak about the identity of the Australian swimmer who has been invited by the Lapun Team to represent them in the Sepik Ironman swim on the Queen’s Birthday weekend this year.
Reuters news reports that two prominent Wewak residents: Messrs. Johnson and Rose were interviewed, but they were playing their cards pretty close to the chest.
All that can be ascertained is that the swimmer is a man in peak physical condition. And it’s said that in his approach to water, he is inspired by Mao Zedong’s swim across the Yangtze River in 1966 and Adrian Bird’s swim across the Sepik River in 1969.
It is also known that he is now in intensive training at a university aquatic centre under the tutelage of a protege of the late Professor Frank Cotton.
Who is this elusive swimmer? Even the date of his expected arrival in Wewak is shrouded in mystery.
All that can be said is that the Lapun Team members in Wewak give the impression that they have some sort of secret weapon in the person of this swimmer.
Something of the schedule of an aspiring Sepik Ironman
I was asked to check out the progress of a competitor in the Sepik Ironman swim to be held in Wewak early next month, by a member of the Ironman Committee. This was to be a discreet enquiry, and even though I was given his name, I was not to publicly reveal his identity.
He is training at a university aquatic centre under the direct supervision of Sir Ernest Spender, formerly of the British Army, PNG Public Service, New Age guru, and now a Herbalife distributor. Sir Ernest’s training methods owe a lot to the late Professor Frank Cotton, a man in whom Ernest himself received much of his knowledge of physiology.
The swimmer, whose name I’m not at liberty to reveal, is a tall, lean man, in the peak of physicial condition, and watching him going through his paces I can only say: move over Thorpey! His 500 m freestyle is breathtaking.
After his training spin, I discussed and interviewed Ernest and the swimmer. Apparently he’s on a daily training schedule, and on a strict diet, which, from what I can gather, consists mainly of wara Sepik or Sepik River water, and kango or water cress from the Sepik River. He drinks 8 pints of Sepik water and eats masses of kango. Ernest sees that he gets ample amounts of Herbalife.
It’s amazing to watch him in the pool. He shows a unique ability to accelerate, and his mental strength and general techniques are extraordinary. He puts these mainly down to the example of Mao Zedong and Adrian Bird, two great and noble swimmers from the past, and conquerors of two mighty rivers: the Yangtze and the Sepik.
What a treat the people of Wewak and visitors to the town will have when they see this swimmer compete in the Ironman Swim. I, myself, can hardly wait as I’ll be in Wewak to see the event. It’s very unfortunate, but it seems that Sir Ernest won’t be able to make it.
The only sad thing that I can see coming from the Ironman Swim is that all other swimmers, apart from the swimmer, will be shown to be completely out of his league, but excellence is not to be frowned on!
Poems by John Bowers
Click onto the above and read the poems, comments are welcome!
See: http://deberigny.wordpress.com/2010/12/07/a-few-words-at-jbs-70th-birthday-party/#respond
A contestant Sepik Ironman swimmer is back in the pool!
The good news is that our swimmer is back into training. Ironman officials Messrs Johnson and Rose in Wewak are delighted as they were finding it very difficult to find a suitable replacement for him.
He has been given a clear bill of health from his doctor after a severe bout of flu, and his trainer, Sir Ernest Spender, now has him on a build up programme in the pool. To see him now in the pool is an inspiration. His speed is remarkable! Ernest now has him back on Sepik water and kango.
What with the example, he has of Chairman Mao and Adrian Bird, commonly known as the Birdman, in their great swims of rivers, the Ironman competition will be a piece of cake. Incidentally, it was not 1969 that Adrian swam the Sepik, but 1970. I have this on very good authority from a witness and a past prominent Angoram resident, Sandra King.
It has been said that the swimmer has been in communication with the PNG PM Sir Michael Somare who from his sickbed in Singapore has sent him words of encouragement. This cannot be officially verified, but if true imagine what a boost this would be to our swimmer.
Once again we can say: move over Thorpey your measure has been taken!
A Sepik Ironman and other matters
It can now be revealed that yours truly is the Lapun team’s contestant in the grueling swim in Wewak Bay on the 12th of this month.
I hope to arrive in Wewak on next Saturday’s plane in the peak of physical condition, to say nothing of my 75 years of swimming experience. I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Sepik Ironman Selection Committee for the confidence they have in me to come up with a performance of the hightest standard. Records will be broken!
I know that excitement and tension are at this moment building up in Wewak. And I ‘ve been told that the Ironman event will be receiving world-wide coverage. Can I stand the pressure?
It’s not all happening in Wewak. Newtown is a continual place of exhilaration and liveliness. Often a habitat of fun and goings-on but we do have our sad moments. The residents were shaken by the sudden death of our famous bookseller and social and political activist, Bob Gould. Bob to those who only ran into him casually might think him a rather grumpy and cross old codger, and whatever way one might describe him you would be hard put to call him Mr Charm, but there was so much more to Bob as the numerous articles written by him and about him reveal. His life was lively interaction with the political, social, religious, Marxist, secular and philosophical life of Sydney and the broader Australian and international community. Bob , a person greatly missed by his family, friends and others, deserves to be dearly remembered.
On the question of death my loved ones here are under instructions that should I croak while I’m in PNG, I’m to be buried right there. I fancy the Catholic Mission Cemetery in Wewak or the end of the airstrip in Angoram. I’ve told all here that my insurance policy should soften the blow as they’ll receive $25,000. Of course, I’m not planning to, as it were, pass on as yet!
Just a few thoughts for the day!
A Sepik Iron Man in my dreams!
Two Sepik Ironmen
I’m now in training for the 2012 Sepik Iron Man Event.
The attached photos will give you an idea of my quality as a contestant. It is rumoured that the other swimmers in this year’s event are very relieved that I won’t be there.
Two famous Margarets: visitors to Angoram
While the many visits of Margaret Mead to Angoram, the famous American cultural anthropologist, are well known and legendary, perhaps the one visit in 1968 (I think this was the year.) of Margaret Olley, the famous Australian painter, who died yesterday 26th July, is not so well known.
Peter Johnson in his email to John Pasquarelli poignantly reminds us of Margaret Olley’s visit:
Dear John,
I know you were quite close friends with Margaret, and am sure you are, as I am, saddened by the news today of her death.
I am in your debt for causing me the pleasure of hosting her at Angoram for several weeks, she was a delight to know and a good cook too! I was really a dumb young bloke then, as I wouldn’t sit for her – in too much of a hurry to get to the late lamented Angoram Club.
I never saw her again, but closely missed her on several occasions when she had left notes for me – it was always just too late!
Her biographer wrote about her Angoram stay, “that she stayed in a riverside house with some patrol officer” I took the liberty of writing to her with a bit of a whinge…she sent me a copy of her book with the passage crossed out and “no, I stayed with my friend, Peter Johnson.” Written in, in her own hand. This is now something to treasure!
Just a few thoughts of happier days.
Pete
“Ignatian”
I’ve just finished glancing through a little publication from Riverview, Ignatian. Like most school publications it has its fair share of propaganda, “the men for others” type of thing, and the great deeds of boys old and new. But yes, there’s much of interest and irony. I was intrigued with the piece about Tony Abbott and his consistency with the gospel values the Jesuits had given him at Riverview. What I did find remarkable was the photo of Professor Mick Dodson without his hat. Not a bad looking bloke hatless, but a rare sight. Of course, for me, the highlight was the piece on the late Roddy Meagher by my old mate, the Silver Fox, Terry Pfafflin, a remarkable and inspiring read about his legal colleague, friend, and mentor. Terry, a great bit of writing.
It’s good to be reminded of the old school and the nonsense that was knocked out of one while there, and Ignatian does just that.
“My Life on Karkar Island” by John M. Middleton
"My Life on Karkar Island" by John M. Middleton
My Life on Karkar Island
John Middleton with James Sinclair ISBN: 978186333320, 367 pages b&w & col
photos + maps Published 2011 by Crawford House , PO Box 50, Belair SA 5052 $39.95 + $11.00 postage
This is a tale about the intriguing and interesting Middleton family told by its present
senior member, Sir John Middleton. It is a chronicle of the ups and downs of
the Middletons and their habitat, Karkar Island. All started by Max, John’s
father, last century and continuing with his children and grandchildren.
Sir John’s easy conversational style of writing coloured with the obvious amusement he has with the antics of human behaviour gives the reader rare insights into PNG’s colonial and post-colonial life. Much of the book is documented oral history.
And the remarks and comments by James Sinclair create a historical framework
that puts the lives of the Middletons in focus in a continually changing social
and political situation in Papua New Guinea.
William Maxwell Middleton, known as Max, created the plantation empire on Karkar and it
has more or less survived in spite of war, political and social changes. John,
his son, extended the family’s influence beyond the confines of Karkar Island
to the larger sphere of an emerging independent PNG. He’s received the accolades
of a grateful nation. But this book isn’t just a social history but an amusing
read written by a gifted raconteur with a twinkle in his eye.
Highly recommended!
David Wall
Position Vacant
The Sepik Institute For Higher Learning
Keram River ESP
Papua New Guinea
Email: higherlearning@yahoo.com.pg
Position vacant: Course compiler and student coordinator
The Institute is a grassroots organization that caters for
gifted students. The person we seek for the above position must be an educated
man of mature years who’s not afraid to challenge our students to strive for
greater things. We would tend to favour a man with a military and legal
background. The person we want should be steeped in the Anglican tradition with
a love of the Book of Common Prayer and the Authorized Version. His eschatology
would embrace the Rapture, Tribulation, Armageddon and the Second Coming of the
Lord. Our institution has no protocols but only the Ten Commandants. The
science we promote is biblically based and not evolutionary.
This is a career position for a dedicated and hard-working
pedagogue, should you be such a person we would like to hear from you.
The successful applicant will live on the fat of the land,
all the saksak and fish he can eat,
leave every five years and paid return fares to Sydney with accommodation
provided for a fortnight at the residence of an Institute supporter in Newtown.
The honorarium will be more than generous and over five years will amount to
thousands of dollars.
All applications shall be treated in the strictest
confidence.
Brian de Solomon PhD
Institute Guardian
Chapter 18 Sepik Blu Longpela Muruk
18
Angoram 1968
Annus mirabilis, Annus horribilis or a bit of both?
John Pietro faced bankruptcy. He had overreached himself financially in
purchasing the plane. The manager of the Bank of New South Wales in Wewak
was concerned with his failure to service his loan. He had neglected his
commercial interests since buying the plane and learning how to fly. The word
around town was that he was trying to drum up financial backing from anyone
who might be interested in becoming part-owner of the aircraft. He had
approached Bill Clayton, Sam Bell, Jim McLaren and Ron Watson, with what he
described to them as a “once in a lifetime opportunity.”
Bill, Sam, and Jim brought the subject of Pietro up one afternoon, when
visiting James Ward. Sam Bell said:
“Pietro’s harebrained scheme to fly to the Asmat in West Irian and buy
artifacts is half-witted, in my opinion. He tells me he has a letter from some
bishop, telling him that the mission would be happy to assist him in any way
possible, if he was to fly in a planeload of medical supplies. The mission would
arrange for him to collect the medicine in Port Moresby. Apparently, there’s a
landing strip at a place called Ewer, which is about twenty minutes by outboard
motor or two hours by paddle canoe from Agats, where the mission is.
“From what he has been told, the Indonesians are madly burning Asmat
festival houses and carvings. The bishop, it appears, wants to discreetly save as
many Asmat cultural items as possible before the Indonesians burn them. He
has arranged with the people to stockpile the artifacts in a secluded spot ready to
be loaded on the plane for the return trip. All the artifacts have been paid for
and Pietro will be given these in return for bringing the medical supplies. The
chances of pulling this off are very good according to Pietro. It seems that the
Catholic Mission authorities could be alerted in Daru and he would be able to fly
to Ewer from there, keeping clear of Merauke when he crossed the border.
Some mate of his in Moresby told him there is only minimal Indonesian
surveillance in the region, so he should be OK.
“He’s broke, you know, and he’s virtually asking others to finance this
venture. You lot can do what you like, but he’s not getting any of my money. To
start with, I don’t fancy his ability as a pilot. The only claim to fame he has is his
membership of the mile-high club and he’ll need more than that flying around
West Irian.”
They all laughed and James called out to Kami to serve beer: Bia long Masta.
Beer for the Masters. Sam went on: “I’d love to get
my hands on some of those Asmat pieces.
There’s a great demand for them in America, especially since Michael
Rockefeller disappeared in Asmat territory. The ancestor figures, horns, drums,
sago bowls and pounders are really unique. My contacts in the States would pay
a fortune for a collection from there. I don’t believe that Pietro is the man to get
that collection. He’s too confident and does not plan enough. He reminds me of
that song that my son, Davie, is always singing: Jumpin’ Jack Flash, by a group
called, The Rolling Stones. But it’s all right, I’m Jumpin’ Jack Flash, It’s a Gas! Gas!
Gas! That about sums up my opinion of Jack Pietro, but don’t let me influence
you.”
“Boy, oh boy, Sam, I didn’t know you were so with it,” said Jim.
“You can’t avoid it with a teenage son down south, Jim.”
Sam’s spiel gave Jim and Bill a lot to think about, especially as they respected
Sam’s opinion on money matters. Sam was always canny in business and with
his soft Scottish brogue, red face, Ernest Hemingway beard and impassioned
manner, he was most convincing.
Bill Clayton said: “I’m still thinking about it and I know Ron Watson has
promised Pietro a fair amount of money.” “Ah, yes, Bill, but has he
actually given him anything yet?” Sam asked. Jim McLaren commented: “There’s
a hell of a lot of money to be made if it comes off.”
James Ward had his say: “You had better all be aware that Pietro won’t be
able to get any insurance cover for this venture. From the point of view of
international law, the whole thing would be viewed as illegal. So, if the plane
goes down, you’re left with nothing and if word gets out there could be all sorts
of diplomatic problems. There must be better ways of making money.”
Sam said: “Well said, Jamie.” The party then broke up. By
this time they were all pretty well under the weather. Kami had kept the
beer flowing and clear thoughts on the subject under discussion were no
longer possible.
In time, James learned that Bill, Jim and Ron had all come on board in
Pietro’s venture. There was no talk about it in town and this was a credit to the
discretion of those involved. No doubt, John had warned his assistant, Ray
Mason, to say nothing. Early on a Saturday, John
Pietro was seen carefully checking his Piper Cherokee plane. Ray Mason and
Bill Clayton were assisting him. He revved the engine several times and Ray
handed him a thermos flask of coffee and a plastic container of sandwiches.
Before John left, he made radio contact with the Civil Aviation authorities in
Port Moresby, stating that he intended to fly to Moresby and pick up medical
supplies and transport them onto Daru for unloading. He informed Moresby
that he was going to to stay in Daru for some hours and then fly directly back to
Angoram. He was given the all clear to proceed.
Just before he left, Sam Bell arrived. Ray, Bill and Sam all shook hands with
John and he got into the cockpit and taxied to the end of the strip for take off
and away he went. Among the three left on the airstrip, there was a feeling of
apprehensiveness and excitement. Ray said: “Jack, he’ll be OK. He knows what
he’s doing.” No one said anything.
If all went well, John Pietro should be back in Angoram by late afternoon.
He said that if he was running late, he would stay the night in Daru on his
return. He thought it best to maintain radio silence as much as possible. He
would inform Civil Aviation in Moresby if he stayed at Daru and make some
excuse about engine trouble. He was most emphatic that should he be late, he
did not want anyone enquiring about him on air from Angoram. He said that
while he was flying in West Irian air space, he would be in the lap of the gods.
The few in the know in Angoram would just have to wait it out and hope for
the best. Late afternoon and nightfall
came to Angoram and there was no sign of John. Bill Clayton, who had
the Post Office agency with the radio facilities, said that they would do nothing
that night, but first thing in the morning he would get in touch with Daru Post
Office and make discreet enquiries.
In the morning, Bill, after a lot of trouble, because Angoram was not on
Daru’s radio sked, managed to get through. He asked to speak to someone from
the Catholic Mission and eventually he was put into contact with a Brother
Michael.
“Brother Michael, this is Bill Clayton from Angoram. Do you know anything
about a Piper Cherokee that arrived yesterday?”
“Yes, Bill, John came in yesterday and all I can say is we haven’t seen him
since. If I hear anything, I’ll get in touch immediately.”
“Thanks Brother, I’ll keep the radio on here so you can get straight through.
Over and signing off.” Brother Michael answered: “Roger.”
In two hours Brother Michael got through to Bill: “Bill, the news is not good.
I can’t say much on air but the Crosiers Fathers, from you know where, have
contacted our Bishop Henri Sautot on Yule Island and Bishop Alphonse van
Baar of the Crosiers will contact Bishop Leo Blum in Wewak. I’m sorry, Bill, but
that is about all I can say, over and out.”
Bill responded: “OK Brother, I’ll say over and out.”
Those in the know about John Pietro’s venture met late on Sunday at Jim
McLaren’s place on Tobacco Road. The general consensus was that everyone
should keep quiet. Bill Clayton said:
“At this stage, the kiaps know nothing about it. As far as they know, John has
flown to Moresby and will be there for a few days. We know that Bishop Blum
in Wewak will be getting a full report from that bishop in West Irian. I would
say sit tight and let Bishop Blum handle the situation. The Department of Civil
Aviation in Moresby is sure to be looking into it, but if the Indonesians know
nothing about it, you can be sure that the government here will want to bury the
whole thing.” Ray Mason asked: “Should I
write a letter to Jack’s parents in Australia?”
Bill answered: “For now do nothing because you don’t know what has
happened yet. I’ve got a lot of respect for Leo Blum and I’m sure when he gets a
full account, he’ll let us know. So, mum’s the word.”
Twenty days after their meeting, Bishop Leo Blum flew into Angoram. The
bishop was an excellent pilot and was known in the District as “the Flying
Bishop”. He parked his plane just off the strip and walked over to Fr Bert Brill’s
house. While there, he enquired of Bert if John Pietro’s business was being run
by anyone. Bert informed the bishop that there was a young man called Ray
Mason who seemed to be running things.
The bishop said: “I wonder, Father, if you would send word to him that I
would like to see him.” Bert answered: “I shall, My Lord.”
After some time, young Ray duly arrived. Bert introduced him to the bishop.
Ray was a bit overawed on meeting the bishop and he vaguely knew that a
bishop should be addressed as my something or other but he was not sure
exactly what. So he went for broke and said: “How do you do and I’m pleased
to meet you, My God.” This did not faze the bishop and he sat Ray down and
said that he would like to talk to him. He first asked Fr Brill to excuse them.
The bishop was a tall, lean American from Iowa, USA, and he had been in
the Territory for about twenty-three years. He was a softly spoken man with a
captivating personality and charming manners. In speaking to Ray, he treated
him with the utmost respect and consideration.
“Ray, I’ve got something very important I want to talk to you about, but
before I start, I wonder if John Pietro had another close associate in town, who
you would like to be present when I do this?”
Ray answered that he would like Bill Clayton to be with him. The bishop
said: “Fine Ray, I know Bill. Would you be so kind to ask Bill to come here?”
Ray answered that he would go and get him. Shortly after, Ray arrived back
with Bill. Bill greeted the bishop:
“G’day, my Lord, it’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Bill, I’m pleased to see you.”
They then all sat down and the bishop proceeded to speak: “I’ll assume that
you are both broadly speaking familiar with John Pietro’s plans to fly to West
Irian and have some idea what subsequently happened.”
Bill and Ray answered: “Yes” to this and the bishop then went on: “I’m now
in a position to tell you exactly what happened. Bishop Alphonse van Baar, of
the Crosiers in West Irian, has written me a full account of what occurred. His
letter had to be carried by foot across the border to a mission station in PNG
and from there it was flown to me in Wewak. That explains why it has taken so
long for a full account to arrive.
“You no doubt know that John arrived in Moresby. There his plane was
loaded with medical supplies that the Catholic Mission had arranged. He flew
onto Daru and from there to Ewer in West Irian, where the medical supplies
were unloaded. He told a Brother Paul that he had no trouble on the way over.
He kept well clear of Merauke. The local people than loaded his plane with
artifacts from the Asmat, under the direction of Brother Paul. Brother Paul was
a bit concerned that John was taking on a too heavy load, but John assured him
that the plane could handle it.
“After the plane was loaded, John took off without any trouble and headed
out to sea. But while the plane was still gaining height prior to turning inland, suddenly the engine stalled
and the plane plunged into the sea. There was nothing anyone could do as
the plane dropped in a very deep part of the sea and submerged within minutes.”
The bishop went on to say: “The mission and the local people were all
saddened by this tragedy. They are also extremely grateful to John for bringing
the medical supplies. There is an influenza and malaria epidemic in the area and
many people are dying. The penicillin and chloroquine and other medicines that
John brought are saving many lives. The bishop informed me that this is the first
supply of medicines that they have received for a long time. It is hard to get
permission and a clearance for planes to land from the Indonesian authorities.
When there is contact with the Indonesians, it is usually with an army group,
who have been sent in to subdue the village people and this often means
burning their festival houses with cultural and ritual items in them. The bishop
arranged a memorial service for John at the mission. He is very anxious to know
John’s parents’ address in Australia so that he can write to them.”
Ray said: “I can give you that.”
“Thanks,” Bishop Leo replied, “I’ll also write to them. Has anyone from
Moresby been here enquiring about John?”
Bill answered: “Yes, Bishop, a couple of blokes from the Department of
Civil Aviation were here last week trying to find out what they could. None of us
here told them much.” The bishop said: “That’s fine
Bill. Now, I can say that our government will be very discreet in
investigating this matter. Everything I’ve told you has been passed on to the
Administrator, David Hay, and as long as the Indonesians know nothing about the
incident, the matter will be largely laid to rest. Is there anything that either of you
would like to ask?” Ray and Bill didn’t think
that there was and they thanked the bishop for all he had done. Ray told the
bishop that he would send John’s parents’ address up with a boy as soon as he got
to his house. They said goodbye to the bishop and they went their respective
ways but first Bill said to Ray: “We’re lucky we’ve got a bloke like Leo handling
things.” Ray answered: “You can say that again.” Sometime later Sam Bell
remarked to Bill Clayton: “There’s a touch of irony in the way Pietro in death
has been able to get all these Catholic Mission people running after him. If there
is anything up there, he must be looking down and having a great laugh. We all
know what he thought of Catholicism.”
Jim McLaren, Bill Clayton and Ron Watson all lost money with the disaster
of the West Irian venture, but they all proved philosophical about it. The
consensus among them was that you can’t get blood out of a dry stone and
John’s estate was relatively worthless. John’s parents had written to Ray Mason
to say that he was welcome to keep whatever John had left behind in Angoram
and carry on with whatever business was left.
John’s death did have an unsettling effect in the town, but life waits for no
one and the business of living went on as usual.
Hala Sofia, the triumphant of the Mestiza
Hala Sofia
Is she Saxon? Is she French? Is she of Tornatras descent? Is she
Polish?
A Filipina beauty with blond hair and blue eyes presents a
puzzle.
The blood of Tagalog nobility, Spanish grandees, Dutch and French noblemen and noblewomen
flows strongly in her veins.
To say nothing of her Saxon, English, Dutch, Irish, Malay and Chinese ancestry,
and in the mix a Polish general!
A decree went out that a child would be born and there were
great celebrations in heaven and hades by the Whowalls, Ruizes,Guidos,Sidorowicz,
Banachowicz, Masons, McCauliffes, Van Kernagaars and de Berignys.
It was said that at her birth she could recite the Iliad, but
now at two she only says: “I want yummy for my tummy.”
The cards are in her favour but her Christian baptism is in
the wings.
What fate awaits her, this modern biological gem?
Only time will tell.
The signs are favourable for even her name is associated
with wisdom.
This international child is a 21st century gift
to Australia.
Mi tingting planti long Sepik.
Bel bilong mi i tok.
On the 16th September,2010, at the official opening of the Wewak Sports Stadium, the then Prime Minister Sir Michael Somare informed the assembled crowd at Prince Charles Oval that in his 42 years in politics he had always been fair in sharing government finances with the whole country and not just exclusively supporting his own East Sepik Electorate – “Olsem lida bilong kantri, mi mas lukautim olgeta.” As leader of the country I must look after everyone. His even handedness, he implied, had had costs for his own electorate, but as well as the support for the stadium his government was supporting many other developments in the East Sepik: Wewak market and jetty projects, a new hospital, cultural centre and museum with other infrastructure developments in the pipeline.
Since 2006 I’ve made regular visits to the East Sepik and I must admit I’ve been increasingly less and less impressed with what I see. The Wewak Sports Stadium, largely financed by the Chinese Government, is in the general opinion of most people a white elephant. “Em i wanem samting? Nau olgeta rot,skul na ples nogut – helpim mi long dispel.” What is this (stadium)? Our roads, schools and place are no good – help us by improving these.
There has been a lot of talk about the relocation of the Boram General Hospital particularly since some damage by tidal flooding caused by the earthquake in Japan in January of this year. Suggestions have been made to move the hospital inland, a move that many find highly questionable, not just on the logistics and suitability levels, but because of more sinister suspicions that there are those who are anxious to get their hands on the vacated prime real estate. Whatever, the present state of the hospital is appalling – pot holes in the road entrance, filthy contaminated drains, the refuse of betelnut chewing here and there, buildings in a total state of disrepair, no x-ray machine in working order. One could go on and on.
In this sorry story I must say I was impressed with the new market and associated facilities, a new police station and ice-making equipment jointly financed by the Japanese and PNG governments. But if one was to take a short walk beyond the market and police station in the direction of the mangroves one comes to what could be euphemistically called the municipal rubbish disposal dump – an accumulation of rubbish, houses, chickens, dogs, people and rats, mosquitoes and other vermin. Right on the edge of all this there is a little primary school – Mongiol school. All of this would be no more than 10-minutes walk from the centre of town and the former Prime Minister’s house.
The simple provision of rubbish collection and disposal would do much to improve the general health and wellbeing of the people of Wewak.
On my recent visit I didn’t go to Angoram, but the reports that I had from my many friends there don’t speak well of the state of affairs in this town.
The Sepik people deserve must better.
The reflections and thoughts of Ralf Stüttgen
I’ve just returned from a fortnight stay in Wewak. While there it was a pleasure to meet up with my old friend, Ralf Stüttgen. Ralf’s views on philosophy, theology, science, politics and the state of PNG are always informative. A subject of great concern to him is the quality of education in PNG. Education is the key to a country’s enlightenment and without it true development is impossible.
Readers of this blog would be aware of other articles that Ralf has written and I refer to a small biographical sketch of him:
Ralf Stüttgen was born in Berlin in 1939. He was educated at a Jesuit High School and in a Divine Word Seminary. In 1967 he was ordained a priest. In 1968 he came to the East Sepik District of Papua New Guinea and worked as a missionary until the early seventies; subsequently leaving the priesthood and working in agriculture in PNG. He now lives in Wewak and owns a guest house and deals in Sepik art. For many years his abiding interest has been about education and development in the Third World. It is his firm belief that without the delivery of quality education en masse countries will forever be stuck in a quagmire of underdevelopment and poverty. Good education and training are not only economic imperatives but are also the rights of all people. With these thoughts in mind, Ralf wants to awaken policy makers and politicians to positive action to facilitate the delivery of quality education to their people.
In conversation we covered the subject of the importance of adequate sleep that all people need to function properly. According to Ralf overworked medical doctors in Germany have the highest rate of suicide in the country. Teachers are more inclined to suffer a condition of mental ‘burn out’ than those of other professions. The political correct commentators mistakenly talk about indigenous people living a natural life. This is highly questionable in the modern world where many native people have poor diets and live in polluted areas. On theological questions and the place of an Almighty, Ralf put forward the following views: God is existence. God is logic. God is reason. God is good with all the virtues. He posed the question: if one had a video camera at the time of Christ’s Resurrection would one have been able to film it? A clerical colleague of his from Germany said, no.
These snippets are food for thought and are engaging topics.
Ralf gave me three written pieces which I’ll reproduce here. The first was written on the 28/12/ 1997. Surprisingly his statistics don’t need much updating and certainly his conclusions are still valid.
HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION IN PAPUA NEW GUINEA by Ralf Stüttgen, Wewak, 28th December, 1997
Education is a human right, and successive governments of PNG have been violating that right.
After twenty-seven years of independence:
- 48% of the people are illiterate
- 30% of children never enter a school
- Drop-out rate grade one to grade six is 75%
- Drop-out rate grade one to grade twelve is 99%
- Every year the government produces 50,000 drop-outs, for whom there is no high school, no training, no jobs.
- By now PNG has one million school drop-outs, over one quarter of the population.
- The East Sepik Province alone is short of twenty high schools. For the country as a whole the figure is four hundred.
- The government’s neglect of education is criminal. It is to be blamed for the ever increasing crime rate. It produces criminals.
- Not more police, but more teachers we need.
- The workforce in PNG is not being developed. We have a workforce of grass cutters. As a result nobody wants to invest here.
- What could be done?
As a first step to increase and improve education, the government should start financing private schools. The existing private schools provide better-quality education.
PNG’s budget for education is between three and four percent of the total national budget. By comparison, some countries invest up to 25% in education annually.
If PNG wanted to educate all its school-age children, the education budget would have to be five billion. As this is not possible, foreign aid has to be sought. We should approach better developed countries to provide schools, complete with teachers and buildings, and get long-term committments from them. The World Bank could do something.
Unless we do a lot more for education, and soon, Papua New Guinea’s future consists of two alternatives: be exploited slaves of other nations, or – just die out.
EQUALITY IN EDUCATION by Ralf Stüttgen, Wewak (Written over ten years ago for somebody in the Dept of Education)
Most Papua New Guineans have their children in Community Schools, Provincial High Schools and National High Schools, most, but not all. Many nationals, well paid public servants, politicians, businessmen, company employees – all those who have money, send their children to the International Schools. And all expatriates who can afford it, do the same. Australians, New Zealanders, Americans, English, Filipinos, Chinese – nobody of these would even think of putting his child into a community school.
Why do these people do this? What are their motives?
The Community Schools are there for the children of this country, to prepare them for life in the community. – Do they? – Is that really so? Or, are these schools a way to nowhere? Just to prepare these kids for a life of frustration and joblessness. (Even if they had a bit of Agriculture and Nutrition in school.)
What do those parents think who spent ten thousand kina in school fees per child per year? They make this big sacrifice because they want to give their children the best education available. And why do all the other parents in Papua New Guinea not send their children to International Schools? Do they think the Community Schools are better? No. They just cannot afford it. The International Schools are only for the rich. And anyway, there are not enough International Schools to go around for everybody.
What would happen if all PNG parents had the choice, a real choice, to send their children to International Schools? Or to a Community School, whichever they prefer? Let us say the Government or somebody else would pay all the school fees?
Now Papua New Guineans do not have a free choice, because they do not have enough money. They are forced to put their children in Community Schools, for economic reasons. But these Community Schools are for blacks only. Like ghetto schools in some cities in America, where nobody else wants to send their children, only the blacks who cannot afford a better school.
This is like it was in South Africa, where they had Apartheid, the good schools for whites, the cheap schools for blacks.
In South Africa the Apartheid policy was forced upon the black people. Out here in PNG the black people are free. Out of their own free choice they have accepted Apartheid in education, though forced upon them by their government.
This is discrimination! Racial discrimination. We are discriminating against the black people of this country. Parents are not given the chance to choose for their children the education they would like.
The people of Papua New Guinea want equality with the people of other countries and races! And real equality between nationalities is only possible if there is equality in education.
People must be able to get schooling, equal to that of the people in other countries. Otherwise they will never achieve the same income and standard of living.
With a second-rate education Papua New Guineans will forever remain the exploited slaves of other nations!
If the answer to this is only money; I think the money can be found.
Should the Panguna Mine on Bougainville be reopened? by Ralf Stüttgen, Wewak, 2011
The mine should be reopened only under one condition, namely, that all Bougainville children go to International Schools. From grade 1 to grade 12, compulsory. And the mining company organises and finances this.
Only if this is done will the people of Bougainville have hope of enjoying a better standard of living, comparable to that in other countries.
If this is not done, forget about reopening the mine. The people will not benefit from the mine; they will remain the exploited fools of outside interests.
One alternative remains: killing all landowners. It has been tried before.
Leaving education, in Bougainville, or about anywhere else in PNG, to the Department of Education, is not possible. They have proved already they cannot do it – 36 years after Independence half the population are illiterate. The money for education has been around, but due to corruption and mismanagement, it does not reach the people.
Therefore, at least in Bougainville, the mining company should be put in charge of providing education. They have access to man power and they are able to control the funds.
For this reason, it is in the interests of the mining company, that Bougainville gets complete independence. Otherwise, the proceeds from the mine will go to Port Moresby first, and from there very little will come back, not enough to provide international education.
If mining on Bougainville is to avoid causing another civil war, we better learn from the mistakes of the past, and let fairness, justice, and equality prevail.
Wewak Hospital needs X-ray equipment
| No X-ray machine at the Wewak Hospital | |
| From: | David Wall (mahal362000@yahoo.com.au) |
| To: | ahcpmsb_consular@dfat.gov.au; |
| Cc: | kevin.rudd@dfat.gov.au; |
| Bcc: | |
| Date: | Tuesday, 22 November 2011 4:36 PM |
Jock McIntyre, more a Nineteenth Century Scottish Adventurer than a Contemporary Figure
I first met Jock McIntyre in 1963 when he was the patrol officer in-charge at Dreikikir Patrol Post in the East Sepik District of Papua New Guinea – a tall good-looking Scotsman from Glasgow or nearabouts with a wealth of experience at Glasgow University, Canada, New Zealand, and the Western District of PNG.
His soft Scottish brogue and impregnable good manners, combined with a forceful individual nature in the company of men gave colour and attractiveness to his personality – men respected him and women liked the look of him. There was perhaps nothing that Jock liked more than to be surrounded with friends in long- drinking sessions.
John, to use his baptismal name, was a good healthy Presbyterian with the usual sectarian attitudes of the time, but the orange and the green didn’t influence who he would drink with. One of his best friends was Fr John O’Toole, the resident priest at Dreikikir. A Fenian or even an American as O’Toole was, who liked a drink was good enough for Jock, even if at times both were more than forthright with each other.
At the University of Glasgow, where Jock studied veterinary medicine for a couple of years, he was a little put out with the fact that a Fenian beat him in the last round of a boxing match for the championship of the university. He did, however, concede that the Fenian was a better boxer than he was.
In the logging camps of Canada and in various jobs in New Zealand he worked hard but also played hard. He liked and respected the women he met, as I’m sure they liked and respected him. A fine figure would measure up to a good malt, but perhaps the fine malt would have at times beaten the fine figure.
He was a gentle giant in his work and dealings with the Papuan New Guineans – always fair and good humoured with them.
Jock was one of Kennecott’s early field officers, and I remember him arriving in Angoram from the Star Mountains laden with rock samples indicating the presence of vast amounts of copper and other metals in the Mount Fubilan area.
Perhaps a man for all seasons, but more a character out of the 19th century who lived in the 20th century.
He often said to me that his ideal was to live a full life overseas, but eventually return to mother Scotland, marry a Scottish lass, live as a respectable family man and keep holy the Sabbath Day.
Over the years I lost track of Jock, and I often wondered if he had achieved his ambition of returning to Scotland. Then someone said to me that he had died. It appears that he did marry a lass, I don’t know if she was Scottish, but apparently she owned a pub on Thursday Island. If this is true, in a way, it would put Jock in a second heaven, and I’m sure if he had died he’ve gone out with a good malt in his hand.
I often picture McIntye and O’Toole in the afterlife, for I know Fr O’Toole SVD has moved on, having a convivial drink together in the best Presbyterian and Catholic style.
Peter Johnson, an old friend of Jock’s, has in his possession Jock’s Oxford Dictionary, a small memento that continues to remind us of his life.
Sydney Morning Herald 14/12/2011
PNG imploding
The chronicles of politics in Papua New Guinea
It’s probably not politically correct to suggest it, but what wonders Evelyn Waugh would do with the present situation in Papua New Guinea if he were still alive – Black Mischief No 2. The drama and intrigue are all there.We have knights of the realm, Sir Michael Somare, Sir Michael Ogio and Sir Salamo Injia with many honourable members of parliament, and Prime Minister Peter O’Neill, or is he PM? Maybe Somare is.
Church leaders have called for calm and for O’Neill and Somare to form a grand coalition in a spirit of good will at Christmas. There seems to be little hope of this happening.
Evelyn Waugh’s characters in Black Mischief would perhaps have their parallels in present-day PNG – the protagonists in real life maybe have a Basil Seal advising them, and there could be sinister persons in PNG planning a coup d’etat. I’ll leave it to the reader as to whom the senile uncle Achon might be in the events in today’s PNG. As far as I know, no one is planning a Birth Control Parade in Port Moresby as was the case in the novel. But if Sir Michael was to suddenly die, would the United Nations step in and make PNG a Trust Territory once again as the League of Nations did by declaring Azania a Mandate of the League in Waugh’s novel?
In a more serious tone, O’Neill moving additional police into Port Moresby to take over government buildings could be seen as rather dictatorial.
The Governor General, Sir Michael Ogio, or is he still GG? He is the meat in the sandwich as he does not have reserve powers like the GG has in Australia. He can’t directly remove either O’Neill or Somare. The other aspiring GG, Jeffrey Nape, is the Speaker of the House. Oh what a mess!
Please come back, Evelyn and write another novel!
The “Dear leader” visited the Sepik (?)
Source: Wikipedia photo
It’s almost an established fact that Chairman Mao visited the Sepik in the 1960s, and when I was in the area in 2009, I heard of a remarkable story of another famous visitor. None other than Kim Jong-il was said to have made a brief stopover some years previously. I must say that the details of this supposed visit were somewhat vague, and I was only given hints of the Dear Leader’s stay. Apparently, all those who entertained the great man were more or less sworn to secrecy.
It seemed to be that he arrived by submarine, and was landed at Kopar at the mouth of the Sepik River, and was collected by an out-board motor canoe, and taken upriver, and hence to Korogopa Village on the Keram River to meet the Honourable William Eichhorn MBE, a former member of the House of Assembly, and speaker of the East Sepik Provincial Government. When I met up with Bill, as he was known, there were intimations in the vaguest of terms of an illustrious visitor to the area. Unfortunately clarification of the visit is now difficult as Bill has since died, and of course, as the world knows the Dear Leader has passed on. Perhaps we might be able to learn more from his successor, Kim Jong-un, the Brilliant Comrade.
My readers may well ask, what was the purpose of Kim’s visit to the Sepik? As far as I can ascertain it was to discuss with the Bill the possibility of supplying North Korea with Sago from the Sepik to feed the starving North Koreans.
William Batak, from Kekten Village, an old out-board canoe driver of mine when I worked for Malaria Service, told me this year when I was in Wewak, that years previously he had bringim pinis bikpela Kongkong man long Korogopa, mi kisim long maus bilong wara Sepik. In essence what he said was that he collected an important Chinese man (To William, Kim would have appeared to be Chinese.) at the mouth of the Sepik River and took him to Korogopa Village.
It would have been very interesting to have been a fly on the wall during the discussions between Bill and Kim.
As far as I can work out the Dear Leader only stayed one night at Korogopa, and also he was unaccompanied by any other Koreans.
In my 2009 visit to Korogopa Bill told me he had many photos that he would show me at some future date. Did he have snaps of Kim Jong-il?
I’m tempted to write to the Brilliant Comrade for any information he may have about his father’s visit.
Skelim tok
January 28, 2012 at 5:53 am (Commentary, Michael Somare, Papua New Guinea, Peter O'Neill)
I wonder if the present political impasse in PNG could be better resolved by the main players recognizing the determinants of governmental activity in the country.
PNG politics cannot be understood purely in ideological, party, constitutional or executive terms. The main imperatives of political life are associated with the interplay of personalities in a largely patron-client environment.
The protagonists, Somare and O’Neill are both products of their own society. To progress politically, they both know that they must play the game of the big man, strong man, and provider to colleagues and the masses, or at least appear to do so. In this patron-client milieu, one builds up prestige and cultural capital. These are essential bargaining assets that can be used or wasted.
Both men have these political assets to some degree, and I would suggest that Somare until recently was more than blessed in this regard. His power lies in the prestige he has acquired as the father of the nation, and the years he has served in Parliament, and on the world stage.
But what is he doing? As far as can be worked out from afar, he’s busy throwing away his chances by trying to emerge from the present deadlock by lamely calling out the army to support him.
At Sir Michael’s age and state of health, he should bring into play his essential strengths, which are his personal charm and his negotiation skills, and deal directly face-to-face with Peter O’Neill. Both men have legitimate constitutional and parliamentary questions that need to be resolved, and I believe, can be resolved. Politically, it’s not in O’Neill’s interests to just disregard Somare, for the old man still has a large following in the country, and his Sepik followers will never forget it if he is publicly humiliated.
Somare must be allowed to settle his differences with O’Neill with his dignity intact. As a first move his, parliamentary seat should be restored to him, and there must be an end to public name calling by both men.
I don’t know Peter O’Neill personally, but I do know Michael Somare and I have a lot of faith in his ability to negotiate, and I’m sure both men must realize that steadfastness to their own opinions irrespective of the consequences is not the Melanesian way.
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