Alnwickdote No 18: Travelling in Style

The helicopter that crashed with Deputy UK Ambassador Pickup aboard.

The old Russian helicopter's rattles eventually subsided.  After two hours we landed back at Pochentong Military Base in Phnom Penh, having made whirlwind visits to Banteay Meanchey and Battambang. To say I was glad would be an understatement. The helicopter had conveyed Deputy Prime Minister/Minister of Interior H.E. Sar Kheng to two closing ceremonies of the commune clerk training organized by his ministry and my NGO.  The Japanese Embassy, one of the sponsors, was represented, and I joined the party having helped to do the fundraising.  I have to say, in my case, somewhat reluctantly.   I cannot say I enjoyed trips in that old helicopter. 

First of all, there were only two fixed passenger seats. They must have been salvaged from an even older coach that had made its last road journey.  One was for his Excellency and the other for the next most senior guest.

The rest of us could take our pick of the plastic stacking chairs, the ubiquitous variety seen in any restaurant.  Who needed seat-belts?  We were one chair short.  No problem as the last guy on-board sat on the large orange cooler-box.  But he had to move once we were air-borne, as it contained the in-flight catering – a soft drink each.

It was hot and smelly inside, more than a whiff of aviation fuel slopping around in a large tank next to the cooler box - so the “air-conditioning” was activated.  The rear door was lowered, giving us splendid views each time the undulating flight took an upward lurch.

Well, as you see,  I did survive the trip to tell another tale.

The then Deputy Japanese Ambassador was accorded No 2 status, and sat next to the Deputy Prime Minister in their splendid fixed seats.  That was a good job too.  He had worked hard during the ceremonies.  He must be one of the most likeable diplomats I ever met - congenial, ever-smiling, not afraid of testing out his newly-acquired Khmer skills in public, laughing through every mistake and hesitation.  He certainly brightened up what were usually pretty dull affairs.  But it must have taken its toll on him.

On the trip back, he was so content and relaxed in the close company of the Deputy Prime Minister, that he fell asleep; soon his head resting on His Excellency’s shoulder.  H.E. Sar Kheng winked and smiled, like a doting mother cradling her baby!  He didn't mind at all.  But I wish I had had the courage to photograph them.

A couple of days later, I met the UK Deputy Ambassador. He laughed – “You must have been on one of the same helicopters that crashed with me aboard!” Nice of him to fore-warn us! Or perhaps he was exacting revenge for my tricks with a UK Ambassador John Martin in Malawi (story to be told.)

Commune Clerks - ruling party spies/controllers [of elected officials] or local administrators?

At a grand meeting in 1998 of top officials; donors, and NGOs, to discuss the planned new commune councils I found myself "the odd one out". Firstly I believe I was the only one there who had actually worked in local government. Then when I called our UK 1974 local government reorganisation "disorganisation" it was meant as a well-meant warning. It did not go down well. I told them that the commune was far too small an administrative size  for local services to be carried out efficiently. It would be better to model on the 184 districts not 1600 communes.

Next I found I was out-of-step with the NGOs, especially my local human rights colleagues. They were all opposed to the new post of commune clerk, a permanent official to work with the elected Councillors. I argued that such a post was a good thing, a professionally trained support person, and it could be a fore-runner for an eventual professional neutral civil service instead of the partisan CPP ruling party patronage system. The only thing was there was no professional training course and the fears of the post being used nefariously were real. The government and donors supported going ahead with the post, one for each commune and some spares in case of turnover.  I was tasked with working with the Ministry of Interior and the Royal School of Administration to design the course; organise it, and raise funds for it. We also achieved something unprecented in public administration in Cambodia.  Commune clerk jobs were subject to public advertisement and their recruitnent had to be scrtutinized by NGOs.

Only time would tell if I would be right or proved wrong. (Some early evidence was promising.)

A Tenuous Connection with Northumberland

We grew up and lived most of our lives with RAF Boulmer and its Air Rescue Service.  Sadly it came to end in October 2015, as narrated here.   One important story is missing.  Children around Longhoughton knew something most others do not.  Santa Claus moved on from Christmas deliveries by sleigh and reindeer long ago.  They used to see him every year arriving in that big yellow bird.

It’s odd to think that as children in austere post-war Britain one highlight of the year was the RAF’s Christmas Children’s party.  Today we’re old enough to be guests at the one also held for local elderly people.  My mother attends every year without fail.