WelcomeDear OKS,

Welcome to the third edition of the OKSOverseas Newsletter. In this edition wehear from OKS working in conflict areasin the Middle East, such as Chris Lee (LN1961-65) working in Syria at ZaatariRefugee Camp. We also hear from OKSwho have retired to calmer areas of theglobe, such as Angus Campbell (MR1953-58) in Sicily who warns of thelinguistic perils of simply adding an ‘o’ tothe end of English words to make themsound Italian.

The OKS Association wishes all OKS tofeel part of the wider OKS community,whether based in the UK or overseas.The OKS Overseas Newsletter isdesigned to facilitate this, letting all OKSknow what others are doing across theglobe. There are a number of OKSOverseas Representatives who arrangeReunions and offer advice to visitingOKS. Please see a message below fromRoger Sutton, one of our OKS AustraliaRepresentatives, with a message aboutan OKS Reunion at the King’s SchoolParramatta’s Homecoming Day.

With best wishes,

Kirsty MasonOKS Coordinator

A note from Roger Sutton about theKing’s School Parramatta’sHomecoming Day

Australia is a huge country (just hit the23 mil population) and its sheer sizemakes it difficult to organise gettogethers / reunions on a major scale.

I heard from M J (Mike) Bailey (WL 1950-54) at the beginning of the year (thanksto the OKS office) ahead of his visit toAustralia. Sadly we could not meet up ashe was visiting his daughter who livesNorth West of Melbourne. When inMelbourne he visited the MCG and thehistoric sports museum. He also went toTasmania where he hoped to meet withColin Von Bibra (LX 1950-54) and then atthe end of the trip he was in Sydney fora few days. A great shame he could notfind his way to Queensland.

One event that has been organised iswith our sister school in Sydney – King’sParramatta. It is their annual“homecoming” weekend and takesplace usually on the first week end inSeptember. The annual rugby matchagainst St Joseph’s (A Blood Match) iscoupled with some fine hospitality andthe chance to meet up with fellow OKSand KP Old Boys and families. It is agreat day out for the family and anopportunity not to be missed, as theday is all arranged and all one has to dois arrive and enjoy. Keep an eye on thecalendar on the OKS website for detailsof King’s Parramatta’s “homecoming”day 2014!

Roger Sutton

OVERSEAS NEWSLETTERIssue 3

In this issue: More than a Refugee Camp – the many faces of Zaatari, Chris Lee

Latin lovers beware, Angus Campbell

Best of Blunders, Antony Fell

The Clemens Reutter Trust, Alison Reutter

Trieste, Science & Culture, David Pim

Life In The Church Lane, Jonathan Barsby

Being a Lusophile! Roderick Frew

King's Parramatta Homecoming Day 2012

After a career first as a civil engineer,then a management consultant, andfinally as a commercial pilot, I joined theregister of RedR Australia 6 years ago.Since then I have been to Somalia withthe UN’s Humanitarian Air Service, andLaos with Oxfam, as well as being atrainer for various RedR humanitariancourses, including Logistics, and Water,Sanitation and Hygiene. In ZaatariSyrian Refugee Camp I spent 3 monthsas camp logistics officer and 3 monthsas a project manager.

Zaatari represents very different thingsto the many people who enter thecamp. To those crammed into the IOM(International Organisation forMigration) mini-buses which arrivethroughout the night, it representssafety but also the unknown. Thefamilies arrive after a long, difficult andoften dangerous journey, leaving theirhomes, land and most of theirpossessions behind. They disembark inthe Reception Area, predominantlywomen and children, bulging suitcases,bottles of water, perhaps a crate ofbottled olives – some tiny new-bornbabies, some very old and barely able towalk, some injured, some disabled(there are now 60 children in the campwith cerebral palsy). For them Zaatari isboth sanctuary and a cause of anxiety:how will they look after a family in a flat,dusty camp of just 5 square kilometreswith over 100,000 people, in a tent?

To the UN and NGO workers, itrepresents perhaps a good jobopportunity – or a chance to dosomething useful for people having ahard time – or anxiety about security,given the tensions and periodic stone-throwing protests – or perhaps mostcommonly extreme frustration with theponderous and hugely inefficientbureaucracy of the UN. For workers atthe front-line, who daily deal with the

needs of camp residents, there can be afeeling of powerlessness to delivernecessary services as they struggle tomeet the demands of the UN systems.

To the many VIP visitors who makeflying visits to the camp, in convoys of4WD’s, with security escorts and sirens,Zaatari may represent fulfilment of theirhumanitarian missions, their aid fundsat work and getting results. They seethe kids at the two camp primaryschools, or playing in the many ‘childfriendly spaces’, or at the ‘RainbowKindergarten’, and perceive that this is ahappy camp with many good facilities,and a sense of hope for the future.

Then there are the many film crews andreporters, who come to Zaatari for adramatic story, and some strikingvisuals. A reporter from Euronews askedme what I thought of the mediacoverage so far: “All different and all true– because Zaatari has so many differentfaces” I replied. Many like to focus onthe disorder, with dramatic pictures ofriot police confronting angry crowdsamidst clouds of tear gas, or kidsdestroying fences and communalfacilities. Some focus on the desperateneed of the most vulnerable, such as theold, the disabled, woman-headedhouseholds with many children, andthose with no savings, who struggle toget through each day. Some describethe various power structures, such asshrewd business people becomingwealthy through trade and services, orthe network of the Free Syrian Armyseeking recruits for the war and raisingfunds through legal and illegal activities.Some highlight the ingenuity andresilience of the people, showing thethriving market area with bakeries,barbers, roast chicken counters, andshops selling everything you mightneed including flat screen TVs, electricfans, and even washing machines.

But for me, Zaatari is all of these things,because it is beyond being just arefugee camp, it has become a bigtown, with all the contrasts, conflictsand confusion of any big town. It ishope and despair, positive and negative,good and bad. And it may be home formany people for quite some time. Nowwe have a UNHCR camp manager who isboth pragmatic and visionary – who isdriving to establish proper governancethrough 12 Districts, with governmentadministrators, elected representativecouncils, and service providersaccountable for service quality – who isnot afraid to confront the ‘big men’ ofthe camp, and also confront the failuresof the UN. Sports fields are being set up(with assistance from the IOC andKorean donors), schooling expanded,more primary health care put in place.We hope to have an improved watersupply network, better drainage, foodvouchers instead of free food, and otherthings which enable the residents toestablish, as best they can, a normal life.And which will equip them for the hugetask of reconstruction and reconciliationwhich they will face when theyeventually return to their homes in war-ravaged Syria.

48 years ago I left King’s and came toJordan in an old butcher’s van with 2school colleagues, when Jordanextended across the West Bank toJerusalem. I’ve now returned at the endof my professional life to a very differentcountry – and am privileged to be ableto contribute a little and take away a lot,and to be inspired by some amazinglyresilient, friendly and cheerful people,little different from me, except theyhave been driven from their homes (andoften lost family members) by a bloodycivil war.

Chris Lee

More than a Refugee Camp – the many faces of ZaatariChris Lee Linacre House 1961-1965

Syria

Mahmoud Family in Zaatari Camp, taken by Chris Lee

Chris Lee in Zaatair Camp

It is often said, with much reason, thatthe two best methods of learning alanguage are finding yourself in eitherof these contrasting states— sufferingnear famine in a country the languageof which you are completely ignorant,or, more fortunately, enjoying a loverwho is completely ignorant of what youare saying.With great optimism I am going toassume famine is on the decline andlove is on the upsurge. I do feel,however, that there is a need for a guideto Latin words for would-be Latin lovers.Their meanings can metamorphosise intheir journey from Italian into English -they turn into snakes in the grass. Letme explain. I have constructed anappallingly banal declaration of love, inEnglish, on the hypothesis that either agentleman or lady has managed tomanoeuvre his or her partner into bed:

Darling. Finally! I have never come acrossanybody like you...so fastidious in all yourmanifestations, so sophisticated. Whatwent on in the office today made me soderanged that the subject of love was farfrom my thoughts and – would youbelieve it – I was only able to think of youspasmodically.

These few poor lines in italics containfive linguistic landmines for Latin loverswho are not conversant with how manywords of Latin origin radically changedtheir meaning when years ago, wet andsoggy, they struggled up onto Englishshores.Usually, English people without muchknowledge of Italian assume that yousimply need to add an ‘o’ to a Latin wordand it will in some way be understood

by Italians; and Italians, (some) hopethat by taking ‘o’s’ off Italian words somesort of Anglo-saxon meaning willemerge.In bed, if your lover is addressed asfastidioso/a he or she will probably slapyou violently, since the word meansirritating or annoying. Sophisticatedmight pass, but it could equally betaken, particularly in the context, tomean artificial or false. The Italianoriginal of deranged in the abovecontext was almost certainly nervoso–which doesn’t mean nervous andcertainly doesn’t mean timid: it candescribe anything from a rabidly angrydog to a mildly irritated husband. Theword ‘subject’ is usually translated asargomento, which on the otherlinguistic side can easily lead thepartner to suspect that a row is in theoffing. You can use the wordspasmodically in English to meanoccasionally, but if you put it directlyinto Italian it means a medicalcondition, denoting physical writhing.

Everybody has their favourite storyabout bad translations. Wars havestarted and negotiations have failedowing to the misconstruction ofmeanings.Many years ago I bought a nineteenthcentury Italian/English phrasebookcontaining the phrase: A man isdrowning: shall I /shall I not save him?Although it’s fascinating why muscularVictorian Christians needed to search forwords on Lake Como, before plungingin to save a soul for a Protestant Christas against a Popish one, it doesunderline the importance of translation,albeit in a rather picturesque way.There are of course various levels oftranslations. Those who deny their ownundoubted talents to reveal the work offoreign geniuses to countries that donot speak their languages ought to beadmired. I understand there is acontroversy about the early translatorsof the Russians into English; I do notbegin to understand it, but I read theirwork when I was an adolescent, and myfirst girlfriend was Natasha, in War andPeace, and I have them to thank for her. The translator obtains certain free perks.He learns the real meaning of all thosewords we habitually consume in ourreading without really knowing what

they actually mean. When we comeacross them in our reading they aresimply blurred objects on either side ofthe main path of what we think we areunderstanding. The other perk - but youdon’t need to be a translator for this - isthat it does help in the ever-presentproblem of language change. Thesubject is too long and difficult to gointo here, but an example might beappropriate. Prestigious: this is a classicexample and a favourite one withpedants – the original meaning is, and Iquote from the Shorter OxfordDictionary, “practising juggling orlegerdemain”.Some years ago in Rome I gave a pieceof traditional carved Sicilian woodencart to an American friend who had justarrived from the States. She loved it anddecided she wanted to clean it up.Dictionary in hand, she constructedwhat she needed to say to a shopkeeperin Trastevere. She wanted a wax polishto do the job. The dictionary could notdistinguish, nor could she, between thesubstance of wood and theconcentration of its growth in the formof a forest; nor could it see anydifference between a wax polish and anational of Poland. As a result, sheconcocted the following phrase inItalian: voglio un polacco per luccidare ilbosco or, in English, I want a Polish manto shine the forest.To the everlasting glory of humanity theshopkeeper whisked out a can of waxpolish without a second thought. Itstrikes me that we surely need morepeople like that in every Government.He, like translators, instinctivelyunderstood differences of meaning andacted to harmonize them - a skill whichsurely ought to be a pre-requisite ofevery politician, should it not?

Angus Campbell

Latin lovers bewareHow the common Latin origins of Italian and English canoften lead to bewildermentMarlowe House 1953-1958

Sicily

At home in Sicily

A blunder can be defined as to makea mistake through stupidity,ignorance, or carelessness. Minewas all three. This is simply to sharewith you the blunder I committedon my first day at King’s in 1958,which has stood me in good steadever since.

Many look back nostalgically ontheir arrival at King`s as a goldenautumnal day. My first day as a dayboy, was being snowed in on the Isleof Thanet. At Shoeburyness thesnow was 57 cm deep. The secondday my bus managed to struggle inthrough the snow and ice. By thenall the new boys, who were joiningthe school in the bleak midwinter,knew where to go. I had beenassigned to study Greek and joineda group heading where I thought Ihad been directed.

It was not what I expected. The oldPalace classroom smelt of old woodand was warm after the trail throughthe snow from Marlowe. In themiddle of the class, an older mastersat, not standing up at the front ofthe class, but sitting on a deskswinging his legs. He was Mr Voigtand he was handing out slices ofpumpernickel, a typically Germanheavy, slightly sweet rye breadtraditionally made with coarselyground rye. When he added sausageand cheese, it was delicious. Thiswas clearly not Greek and he wonme over from the start. My tutorJocelyn Owen, a Greek teacher, wasfurious when I told him that I wishedto change. Joining the wrong linewas the best blunder I have evermade and has influenced my futurecareer and the friends I have made.

A classical compromise wasnegotiated. I would continue Latinunder the bearded Humphry Beevor,sometime Bishop of Lebombo – anarea around 800 km long boarderingsouthern Africa, Mozambique andSwaziland. When he, or we, gotbored with Latin, he would read usextracts from Guys and Dolls in asuperb range of American accents.

I did not study Modern Languages inthe sixth form but took a wonderfulcourse of European History andForeign Texts where we studied suchthings as the French Philosophes

and Revolutionary orators and couldchoose to answer a selection ofexam questions on French, Germanor Latin texts. This was combinedwith exploring French, German,Italian, Dutch, Austrian and Swedishhistory. I have to confess that thishas led me as a result to feeling bothEnglish and European. Even though Isubsequently read Law atCambridge, the international aspectwas my greatest interest.

So where has it lead me? Just aselection…..

….A travelling scholarship studyingthe chateaux of the Loire. Thisinvolved saving on the travel bycanoeing down the river and usingthe grant to buy books and wine.

….Exploring Berlin before and afterthe Fall of the Wall

….Discovering the rich heritage ofCentral and Eastern Europe after thecollapse of the Communist regimes

….Now many years later I amDirector of European UnionRelations in Brussels. In this role Irepresent the EEF, the UKManufacturing Organisation – 6000companies providing just under amillion jobs. I also act as SecretaryGeneral of the European Forum forManufacturing. This has membersfrom different political parties andMember States across Europe.

We recently organized a majorgathering in the EuropeanParliament, chaired by MalcolmHarbour MEP, for European tradeassociations representing 200,000companies which provide jobs for13,000,000 people across Europe.

Our aim was to present to thePresident of the EuropeanCommission José Manuel Barroso,the EU Presidency and Members ofthe European Parliament aManifesto on “Manufacturing aStronger and Greener Europe”. Withtoo many young people without ajob across the European Union,growth and jobs is a key priority forus all.

So it is clear that a number ofmemorable teachers influenced my

future trajectory. The basis of mycommitment to working with myEuropean colleagues is not a partypolitical belief. I see the EuropeanUnion as an important contributionto maintaining peace in Europe forour children. My father went in tothe horrors of the trenches of theFirst World War at 17 and was calledback to be a Gurkha Colonel for theSecond World War. My daughterworks for the International RedCross in Geneva and was recentlyfilming the consequences of conflictin Burundi and Syria. So for me, thecurrent European Union may be farfrom perfect but no-one else has yetfound a better model for Europe tomaintain peace, democracy, the ruleof law and human rights. It is alsoprovides access to the largesttrading market in the world and hasthe political clout to negotiate withthe US and China.

Some time ago, I walked throughthe Auschwitz Concentration Campin Southern Poland. On one of thewalls there was the quotation ofGeorge Santayana:

“Those who cannot remember thepast are condemned to repeat it.”

I am glad that King`s introduced meso fully to Europe`s past and amreally grateful to have had theopportunity to see at first hand thepeaceful coming together of adivided Europe.

Antony Fell

Best of BlundersAntony FellMarlowe House 1958-1963

Belguim

It is an odd situation to be in, to be in anintensive care unit looking at youryounger brother and know that he willdie, but not know when. Eighteenmonths ago, my little brother, then aged23, had a car accident and was instantlybrain dead. He was flown to theintensive care unit in Bolzano Italy,where we visited him for the remaining3 days of his life. Those three daysseemed like an age, but they also wentby far too quickly.

During this time we found out that wewould likely receive a significant sum ofmoney from the insurance companythat had insured the car. Another oddsituation, your brother’s life valued.Valued higher due to the completion ofa university degree. His first from BristolUniversity arrived in the post the day hisbody arrived back in Austria. We knewwe could not accept this insurancemoney and then spend it on a newswimming pool, so the discussionbegan, what to do with it. Help others,obviously, but how?

My little brother loved Austria and heloved the mountains. Less than twomonths before he died we had scaledMont Blanc together. So the idea was todo something with mountains. And so,slowly but surely, between funeralpreparations, grief, tears and happymemories we came up with the idea ofthe Clemens Reutter Trust. It is not easydoing something in someone’s namewithout being able to consult them. Wewere unsure whether to use his name,whether he would have liked the idea,what he would have thought of thewhole thing. We will never know.

The Clemens Reutter Trust(http://www.clemensreutterstiftung.at/en/)aims to help children of less privilegedbackgrounds to experience the peace,freedom and excitement that the

mountains have to offer. The goal was tobuy a mountain hut that we can sendchildren and their families, and last year,this dream became reality. In just over ayear we raised over 400,000 Euro andthat is not even including theaforementioned insurance money. Weare about to receive UK charity statusand are also waiting for the Austriancharity status, which takes three years.

In the short time since the charity hasbeen set up, 30 children have alreadybeen able to benefit from thisexperience. And the benefit they havegained has been immeasurable. The firstgroups of children that have beentreated to the mountain experiencehave been from SOS Kinderdorf families.These children have experiencedhorrors and neglect that we cannotimagine. Their carers have been amazedat what a difference a week in themountains has made. The charity hasreceived letters from the carers withexamples of the effect the week hadlong after they had returned home.

Possibly the most incredible examplewas that of a young girl who hadpreviously refused to speak to adults.Within just a few short hours of being inthe mountains and getting to know thestaff we had sent to support the familiesthe girl was happily chatting away toJosefa one of our volunteers, andincidentally my little brother’s girlfriendat the time of the accident. We werecompletely unaware of the girl’sprevious refusal to speak to grown-upsand thought nothing of thisconversation that was going on. In theevening, with tears in her eyes, thewoman who looks after the young girlexplained to us how much of a hugestep this was. She said “even if nothingelse happens this week, it has alreadybeen worth it”.

The week in the mountains is entirelyorganized by the charity, which not onlyprovides accommodation, but alsoprovides a cook, a mountain guide,support and activities for the children. Itis meant to be a complete holiday, abreak from everyday life, an escape intoan unknown world. And if we canmanage to enthuse just a few of thesechildren for the mountains, theoutdoors, nature and all it has to offer,then we have achieved our aim.

But truthfully, the charity not only helps

the children, it hasalso helped my family. It has given ussomething to work towards, somethingpositive to concentrate our efforts on.The charity is a quasi-monument to mybrother. We have all helped out in someway or other, be it in the organization ofthe weeks at the hut, or a charity eventto raise money. Of course it cannotreplace him, and that is not theintention, but it can give us some hope.And when we receive the thank youletters from the children or hear aninspiring story, then it makes ourburden just a little easier to bear.

This year a further 30 children will beallowed to experience the power of themountains. In the meantime, the charitywill be busy raising money to improvethe mountain hut that has beenpurchased. We need a new kitchen,extra beds, furniture and many morebits and pieces to ensure that thechildren have a pleasant stay at 1800meters altitude. Furthermore we aretrying to improve the website andwould like to create a logo for thecharity. Friends, family and completestrangers from all over the world havehelped us and are helping us bydonating their time, money, skills andknowledge. But there is still so muchmore to be done.

It is an odd situation to be in, and not asituation I would have wished upon myworst enemy, but this is what life hasthrown at us, and we are trying to makethe most of it.

Alison Abensperg und Traun

The Clemens Reutter TrustAlison Abensperg und Traun (née Reutter)Luxmoore House 1999-2003

Austria

Above: AlisonAbensperg undTraun (née Reutter)Left: Clemens Reutter

Clemens Reutter Tust in action

Graduating from University CollegeLondon in 1977 with a degree inMicrobiology, a research career couldhave taken me anywhere in the world,but after almost twelve years working inLondon, a job opportunity presenteditself in Trieste, Italy, where I moved in1990 with my wife and at that time, twosmall daughters. Trieste has long been acity associated with science. In additionto the International Centre for GeneticEngineering and Biotechnology (ICGEB)where I work and the University ofTrieste, there is SISSA, (the InternationalSchool for Advanced Studies), a fullyfunctional synchrotron lying above thecity on the Karst plateau, and a coupleof kilometres along the coast lies theInternational Centre for TheoreticalPhysics (ICTP), established in 1964 bynobel laureate Abdus Salam.

ICGEB is one of three internationalcentres (the other two being located inNew Delhi and Cape Town) dedicated tothe training of researchers fromdeveloping countries as well as carryingout research in fields that are deemed tobe of relevance to the developing world.My own field of research for the last 25years or so has been that subset ofHuman Papillomaviruses (wart viruses)that are termed high-risk because oftheir association with cancer of theuterine cervix in women. Despite theavailability in the western world of twoexcellent vaccines that are highlyeffective at preventing infection withthese high-risk papillomavirus types, thehighest burden of cervical cancer iscarried by countries in the developingworld where such vaccines are generallytoo expensive to apply to the generalpopulation. Because of this and also

because there is a very large number ofwomen globally, who have already beeninfected and to whom the vaccinescannot as a result, offer any protection,continued research is required to fullyunderstand the biology of these viruseswith a view, in the long run, todesigning better therapeutics againstwhat is still, despite the global rise ofbreast cancer, the most common formof cancer in women taken on aworldwide basis. Basic research onviruses of this type has also proved tobe highly productive in terms ofexploring and understanding basicbiology.

Outside of the professional aspects ofthe city, Trieste has much to offer.Perched on the very north easternmostcorner of Italy, on top of the Adriatic,Trieste has a culture markedly differentfrom other cities in Italy, based on itshistorical past (it was the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s only maritime portup until the First World War), and on itsgeographical proximity to Slovenia andCroatia. Its cultural heritageconsequently has as much in commonwith middle Europe and the Balkans aswith the rest of Italy, a heritage that isreflected both in the local cuisine andthe regional dialect. As with manyItalian cities it has a great deal of visibleculture and a history that can be tracedback to Neolithic times. The town boastsa Roman forum and small amphitheatreas well as an early Cathedral withbeautiful mosaics. Along the coast,adjacent to the ICTP, is Miramare castle,built as a home for Maximilian, (theyounger brother of Austrian EmperorFranz Josef ), where he lived beforedeparting to become emperor ofMexico and meeting his untimely death.Amongst several cultural aspects, manypeople will know that James Joyce livedintermittently for several years in Trieste,a city already famous for its fine literaryheritage, years that heavily influencedthe writing of his novel Ulysses.Trieste does not attract the level oftourism that can be observed in otherItalian cities such as Venice, a mere 90miles or so west of Trieste; most visitorsare passing through to travel down theeastern side of the Adriatic into Croatiaand its Dalmatian coast, or boardingferries down to Greece. But its relativequietness makes it all the more liveableand more affordable for eating and

drinking in its enormous number of barsand restaurants. This is where you willfind some of the finest seafood in Italy, ifnot the whole of Europe, something theTriestini take rather seriously. And for acity with around 250,000 inhabitants, itboasts a fine cultural heritage, with anopera house and three theatres. Lifehere has the kind of pace that you’dexpect in an Italian city, the bars openearly for people on their way to work tograb a cup of espresso or cappuccinoand croissant and stay open throughlunch until it’s time for the eveningaperitivi that Italians love to partake of,before heading home for dinner or outto their favourite restaurant. Triestetakes a pride in its coffee. At one time itwas Europe’s biggest coffee port andthough it may have lost some of thistrade, it is still home to several coffeeproducers. One of which, Illy, exports itsvarious roasts and blends around theglobe and the smell of roasting coffeefrom the factory fragrantly permeatesone corner of the city’s suburbs. Being a maritime port, Trieste is secondonly to Genova as a leisure sailing centreand marinas and sailing clubs abound inand around the immediate centre of thetown. I know from personal experiencethe pleasures of cruising up and downCroatia’s Dalmatian coast, in and out ofthe islands. As a consequence of itsmaritime heritage, every year Triestehosts one of the world’s largest regattas,the Barcolana, which in recent yearsboasts almost 2000 participating yachts,and is a sight to see on a clear Octobermorning.

At one time rated as the Italian city withthe highest quality of life, Triesteprovides that balance of professionalismand relaxed lifestyle that many of ushave sought for years. Has it been apositive experience living here? Well,after 23 years we are still here!

David Pim

Trieste, Science & CultureDavid PimLinacre House 1969-73

Italy

Miramare Castle from the hillside above Trieste– the footpath known as the “Napoleonica”.

Approaching my mid- fifties in Kenya,school days at JKS and King’s seem sovery distant. Boarding schoolcommenced early for me at the age ofeight, traveling back and forth betweenEngland and my parents’ homes in Kenyaand Uganda with an ‘ unaccompaniedminor ‘ tag around my neck. Luxmoore in the mid 1970’s was underthe watchful but benign eye ofhousemaster Bob Bee. It had thereputation of being a ‘ shags’ ‘House, inthe sense that our hair was longer, rockmusic played louder, wing collars wornlooser, and we were reputed to have acollective aversion to sports. In truth the‘shags’ ‘ moniker was unfairly bestowed,for Luxmoore had more than its fair shareof fine scholars, sportsmen, musicians,and generally worthy, humorous andenergetic characters. We daily strode backand forth along the New Dover Road witha swagger, and thought ourselves moreworldly than our contemporaries, beingoutside the cathedral precincts oncelessons were over.

After a year ‘out ‘ in France, I spent fourmostly pleasurable years at theUniversity of Edinburgh obtaining anHonours degree in BusinessAdministration. It was a young andhighly theoretical discipline at that time,and though it included such worthysubjects as economics, accounting andindustrial relations, I’m pretty sure wegraduated without the words ‘invoice’ or‘profit and loss’ having passed our lips.

Most of the next decade was spentworking in London and the Arabian Gulf(Abu Dhabi, UAE and Muscat, Oman) forBP, Inchcape and Union Bank ofSwitzerland. In 1990 I had theopportunity to return to my origins inEast Africa, and in 1991 I married Jane inBakewell Parish Church, Derbyshire. Iwas later surprised to learn from hisobituary in The Times that former King’sheadmaster Canon Pilkington had been

a young deacon at that church. Hetaught a select group of us history in the1976 pre A-level term and I could onlyhave wished his predictive powersregarding likely questions had been assound as his other undoubted skills.

Nairobi has been my home since 1990.Initially I worked for a manufacturer ofprefabricated timber buildings, whichour construction crews erected fororganizations like the UN and ICRC insuch difficult terrain as Somalia andpost-genocide Rwanda. I later moved toone of Kenya’s largest manufacturingcompanies, a mini-Unilever whoseproducts are exported throughout Eastand Central Africa and included cookingoils and fats, detergent powder andsoap. In a good example of verticalintegration the company also had theregion’s largest plastics factory for theproducts packaging. For three yearsJane, an established writer andjournalist, and I worked as contractorsto the Kenya Wildlife Service, producingmarketing materials for Kenya’s nationalparks, a project funded by the EU andthe perfect opportunity to visit the leastknown and rarely visited national parks. Mid-2007 saw a complete change ofdirection when I became the Nairobibased administrator of the CatholicDiocese of Rumbek, South Sudan. It ishard to imagine an Anglican beingemployed in an official capacity by theCatholic Church, but in Africa needsmust when the devil drives. I’memployed by the development arm ofthe German Catholic Bishops’Conference, and in keeping with the lawof unintended consequences findmyself a (compulsory!) member ofGermany’s national pension scheme.

In 2005 Sudan emerged from nearly 50years of continuous low-level civil warbetween the Muslim north and theChristian south, and in 2011 SouthSudan became the world’s newest and194th country when it gainedindependence from Sudan.

It is challenging operating in a newlyindependent country striving to re-build itself after decades of conflict,which is still drafting a constitution, andwhere the rule of law is subsumed bythe rule of the gun. South Sudan’sprincipal asset is the ability to produce

400,000 barrels per day of oil providingit can end its perpetual squabbling overpipeline transit fees with Sudan wherethe export terminal of Port Sudan islocated. Throughout the civil war therewas no government in the south and sothe Church was the State, in Sudan’scase the Catholic Church as theAnglicans had departed.

The Diocese of Rumbek has functionedfor the last two years in a state of ‘sedevacante ‘ following the death of ItalianBishop Mazzolari. It covers an area onethird the size of Italy with a populationof approximately four million, hastwelve missions manned by over onehundred priests and sisters fromseventeen different countries, educatesmore than 15,000 children in its manyschools, has two hospitals and severalmedical centers, and has threevocational and teacher training colleges.The financing of all this activity comesentirely from donors large and small;from the EU to individual contributions.Managing a diocese is similar tomanaging a business, with areas ofcommonality including personnel,financial management, marketing andpresentation of projects to donors,reports, logistics and communications. Itravel shortly to South Korea to requestthe Bishop of Suwon to send additionalpriests to the diocese; situations andwork responsibilities, like people, taketime to reveal their mysteries.

OKS contacts have been limited inrecent years to regularly visiting PlaiKitiyakara (Luxmoore 1971-1976) inThailand, and hosting him and his wifein Kenya last year. I also maintaincontact with Singapore - based RodMackenzie(Marlowe 1971-76), afriendship going back to JKS days, andNairobi resident Robert Shaw (TheGrange 1965-70).

In Kenya we live in a wonderful buttroubled country, tremendouseconomic development accompaniedby unacceptable levels of poverty andinsecurity. To paraphrase the Coenbrothers, Kenya is no country for oldmen.

Jonathan Barsby

Life In The Church Lane Jonathan BarsbyJunior King’s School 1966 – 1971Riversleigh / Luxmoore 1971-1976

Nairobi

Yirol Mission Church, Diocese of Rumbek, South Sudan

Jonathan Barsby, Plai Kitiyakara (Luxmoore1971-1976), Aphinya Kitiyakara, Jane Barsby

Curious, isn’t it, that there is often achain of events in life with links back toa particular person. Reflecting on life,as one is wont to do more often withadvancing years, the fact that I amretired in the Algarve, and indeed muchof what led up to it, I can directly ascribeto FJS. I call Canon Shirley FJS ratherthan Fred because for those who werefortunate enough to be the recipients ofhis frequent and cryptic little notes thatis how he always signed himself off andthat is how I prefer to remember him.That I ever went to King’s and the firstlink in the chain, was due to FJS. I had aclose relative who was under his spell atWorksop; he had been close to FJS andsuggested to my father that I should goto King’s. That turned out to be the bestpossible choice and in my later yearsthere I was both fortunate and gratefulto get quite close to that uniquelyimpressive man. I was of an age with FJS´s younger son,Charles, (sadly he, too young, hassuccumbed to cancer); we becamegood friends and indeed went up toCambridge together at the same time. Ayear or two after that he and his newwife, Pamela, suggested I might like tojoin them for a few days whilst theywere spending a holiday in Portugal.The Algarve was hardly known in thosedays, 1962, indeed there was not evenan airport.It was a rather idyllic spot and after arather convoluted series of co-incidents,we decided, as one did at that age,without concerns about mortgages oreducation to cloud one’s financialhorizons, that we might buy a small villathere. Well, together with a mutualuniversity friend, we did just that.At about the same time I decided thatinternational banking was a career Iwanted to pursue. It ended up being achoice between HSBC and (for thosethat might remember it!) BOLSA, a bankwhich had branches all over LatinAmerica, Spain and Portugal. Being by

then a part owner of a house inPortugal, that, for better or for worse,influenced my eventual choice. Early inmy days with them I somehowmanaged to engineer a posting toLisbon as my first job! Some years later,after a spell in Brazil and New York, anopportunity arose in the early 70’s for aposting to Oporto. I, and my wife bythen, was of course delighted. We havehappy memories of times there, stillhave many friends and visit often.Whilst there, it was not difficult toconclude that, one day, Portugal wouldbe a good place in which to retire.Before that, however, we spent theintervening years in different parts ofthe globe, including ten years in Asiaand eight years in Madrid. We had fourchildren, three of whom, the boys, allwent to King’s: James (LN 82-87),Charles (LN 85-89) and Antony (LN 86-91). Antony is now living in Lisbon soperhaps the chain continues even now.So, as far as I am concerned, FJS hadmuch to answer for but I certainly regretnothing. He was a unique man whom Ifeel humbly privileged to have had theopportunity of knowing quite well. Likeall great men he had his detractors butthose were far outweighed by the manyboys, and indeed staff, whom hebrought the best out of, and by otherswho for one reason or another neededthe help which only he had theunderstanding and compassion to give.

So what about being retired in theAlgarve? Well right now the parlousstate of the economy is all too obvious;Portugal is simply not suited to life inthe eurozone (is indeed anyone?) Yearsof living off handouts and otherpeople’s money together withsuccessive governments which employfar too many people and are all toooften directionless, have all taken theirtoll. Nevertheless I cannot think of anyplace I would rather be. The weather:splendid and predictable, the wine:

plentiful and selectively excellent, butlike all expatriate havens it is a place youneed to get out of from time to time.One cannot, should not maybe, spendall one’s time on the golf course or thebeach….as it happens I enjoy neither! Iprefer the countryside which I considerto be the real Iberia and which I stillenjoy immensely either on foot orindeed on my horse! We are fortunatethough in having, on and off, spentnearly thirty years in Portugal and Spain,we know the countries well and havemany friends scattered about thepeninsular. We are some two hoursequidistant between Lisbon and Sevilleso can enjoy the best of both thoseworlds. Our visits to the UK are mostlyfamily oriented and this has sadly meantmost infrequent visits to Canterbury. I would imagine there must be someOKS around these parts but few that Ihave come across. If anyone whohappens to read this has the slightestinterest in getting in touch with me orAntony in Lisbon an email wouldprobably sooner or later elicit someresponse; please do contact us via theOKS Association who will forward anyemails on to us.

Roderick Frew

Being a Lusophile!Roderick FrewThe Grange 1952-58

Portugal

Dr Chris Andry (GL 74-78) USAEast@OKSMail.orgAndy Riding (MR 86-91) Australia@OKSMail.orgRoger Sutton (WL 51-56) Australia1@OKSMail.orgMark Swann (SH 57-62) SouthAustralia@OKSMail.orgSelwa Moore (BY/BR 92-94) Belgium@OKSMail.orgViki Bennett (GR 1988-90) Canada@OKSMail.orgMike Gough (SH/BR 74-77) CanaryIslands@OKSMail.orgMervyn Cumber (MR 62-65) CaymanIslands@OKSMail.orgBrain Sun (MO 87-91) China@OKSMail.orgAnthony Jankowski de Moubray (MR 60-65) France@OKSMail.orgRoy Rogers (GL 78-82) Germany@OKSMail.orgHamish Backhouse (MO 97-01) HongKong@OKSMail.orgPaul Sheridan (LN 71-76) MiddleEast@OKSMail.orgAndrew Gent (LN 68-73) Mexico@OKSMail.orgPhilip Van Notten (GR 85-90) Netherlands@OKSMail.orgSarah Watson (MO 78-80) NewZealand@OKSMail.orgWilliam Barratt (GR 97-02) Pakistan@OKSMail.orgPeter Kirby-Higgs (GL 61-64) Portugal@OKSMail.orgSimon Green (MO 73-78) Russia@OKSMail.orgAndrew Balanda (GL 74-78) SouthAmerica@OKSMail.orgRajasingam Vijeyasingam (LX 76-78) SouthEastAsia@OKSMail.orgJulian Camble (BR 80-84) Spain@OKSMail.orgChristopher Uhde (LN 97-02) Sweden@OKSMail.org.ukJeremy Davies (GL 70-74) Switzerland@OKSMail.orgDr Mark Belsey (SH 91-96) Switzerland@OKSMail.orgAndy Hart (TR 87-92) Tanzania@OKSMail.OrgDavid Quine (WL 63-67) Thailand@OKSMail.org

OKS Association Contact Details.Kirsty MasonOKS Coordinator++44 1227 595669oks@kings-school.co.ukwww.oks.org.ukwww.kings-school.co.uk

Overseas RepsOKS Association