In Memorium- Frank Henry Papprill: 25 July 1922 - 12 September 2009

Frank Papprill

What can one say about Dad? What words best describe him?
Whatever we do we could never find enough to say about him or words to describe him.

For us he was always that big generous, loving, humorous, passionate, warm-hearted, big-hearted even, down to earth, involved, unassuming, surprising, concerned, neighbourly, a teller of stories, a raconteur, a lover of the bawdy as well as one of great tenderness.

Dad loved life as well as loving intensely with a devotion I can only hope I can emulate. For when Mum was diagnosed with cancer he saw it as his duty to look after her, to nurse her through her long illness and then, despite our shared joke that with all his lawn-mowing, gardening and shared meals he did with his friends on The Hill he was serving twelve widows, to remain loyal to his love right through until his death.

My Dad, our Dad, our children’s grandfather, their children’s great grandfather, was a man who continued to surprise us and will continue to be a role model we and they can look and live up to.

For he was a man whose bluff good humour would become the focus of a party - at my 60th his often embarrassing tales of my childhood, here in Wanganui, created much amusement for my friends who, every time we met, would ask “How’s the old man? Still telling stories?”

His intense pleasure of life and all it gave him was shared equally between us, as family, and his neighbours. I learnt, only recently, of his early morning gardening done for an army friend, an ex POW, whose ill-health prevented him from getting his garden into shape - who else but an overly generous man would get up in the pre dawn mist and go and dig a neighbour’s garden over before going to work?

But, then again, nothing should have surprised us for I recall Jocelyn ringing me one weekend, full of concern, when she discovered that Dad, when he was a regular hut warden for DOC, had met a young English couple honeymooning on the river and,after talking to them, had not only given the couple his jersey because theirs was wet but offered them the keys to the house to stay over in Wanganui while he was up the river. His generosity actually did include giving the shirt off his back!

Jocelyn, Des, Alan & Frank. 25 July 2009

Dad was also a man who enjoyed life and all the humour it held. For him living was a divine comedy. At our last family gathering, his 87th birthday, the evening ended with us falling out of our chairs with stomach aching laughter as he told and then encouraged others to tell story after embarrassingly funny story about himself, ourselves and his childhood. Each story often tinged with poignancy even as the punch lines threw themselves at our solar plexus and doubled us up with laughter.

It was an evening of great good humour that only finished when the final whiskey was drunk and Dad had decided that he’d had enough and said his good nights.

Heather, Joy, Frank, Jocelyn 25 July 2009

That enjoyment of life, his unquestioning generousity gave him rewards that he was astonished, surprised and humbled at receiving. The QSM for his services to the community that is Durie Hill, to the community that is the Wanganui River, the organisations and people along it and to his War time mates left him tongue-tied and speechless and, I think, awed by the honour given to him so freely.

And when, just a few months ago, the RSA awarded him a life membership for his care, his ongoing friendship to his mates, his comment to us was: “Christ, son, they called me up and gave me a life membership.I don’t know why they gave it to me. I was only doing what I normally do.... and ... bugger me if I didn’t start to cry ... stupid old fool eh?”

But that was Dad. He did what he always had done and carried on doing it because it was the right thing, the only thing, to do.

For a man that lived life to the fullest I know Dad was always perpetually surprised that he had survived to reach 87 and to see his family hit those magic numbers of 63, 61 and 50 themselves. He once said to me: “You know son, I told your mother when I reached 40 that I didn’t think I’d see them reach 40... least of all see Jocelyn reach that age.And now, look at us - you’ve passed 60 and Jocelyn’s going on 50 - where did the years go?”

To which I said -”Keep asking Dad ‘cos we expect you to be still here at 90.”

Unfortunately that won’t happen.

Yes, Dad was a great father, a welcoming and loving father in law, a great grandfather and great great-grandfather who has had a huge influence on our lives and on the lives of our families.

He has been great neighbour to many - an established figure on Durie Hill as, after all, you don’t live in one house on one street for 66 years without becoming part of the fabric of the suburb.

He has been a great friend not just to us as his family but to all he came in contact with.

His death will leave a huge hole in our lives but his memory will survive, his stories will be retold, relived and embroidered on for many years and his presence always felt whenever someone begins a sentence with: “Remember when Poppa said or did...”

So let us all remember Frank, remember Dad, Remember Poppa and celebrate his life and mourn his passing.

Back in the Doha Haze

Our Apartment in Bin Mahmoud

It is hard to believe that we've been back in Doha for two weeks now as the days seem to have merged into the heat haze that is Qatar in summer. With temperatures regularly in the mid 40s during the day and lows of 30C the idea of doing anything really active during the day disappears as one contemplates the comfort of air conditioning in the cocoon that is our apartment.

On top of the heat induced lassitude it is also Ramadan here which means that the day starts with the dawn call to prayer at 4.00 followed by the sunrise call at 5.15. For the locals it means that there can be no eating or drinking after 5.00am until the sunset call at 5.45pm.

It also means that the working day becomes compressed into a 4-5 hour slot between 8.00 or 9.00am and 1.00pm. (For the workers on the building site behind our apartment the day starts with the shriek of an un-oiled pulley at 5.30 and finishes at around 10.30 or 11.00am when the heat is too much for any outside labour.)

There are several advantages to this situation: getting on with some reading both for recreation and professionally, polishing up PD presentations for delivery once schools start, writing up exemplar lesson plans to take into the schools for teachers to follow and for us, as ATs, to demonstrate as effective teaching to the staff, watching the news on TV, having organisation meetings with the ATs with both companies involved with the contract and socialising with our colleagues.

It does mean that we are getting ourselves well organised for the coming school year.

I've been on site at the school the team I'm on is working in for the past three days meeting the staff, sorting out our work space and getting ourselves ready to swing into action this Sunday when we meet the full staff for the first time.
This year the school is an ex-Ministry one that has become an Independent school. The plan is to operate out of the old site for 2009-10 then move to a new site in 2010-11. In the meantime the old rooms are being given a make over with new plant installed ready for the students by the 27th. Consequently the parking area looks like a building site with stacks of student desks, old filing cabinets, broken blackboards, chairs, papers, bottles and hunks of timber and broken masonry on one side and an army of labourers busy painting, reassembling and moving new materials into the classrooms while teachers hunt their way through the movement to find a space to work or talk about the new year in their departments.

It also means that the English Coordinator and I have to sit down and sort out the resources needed to ensure that the Department can deliver both in quantity and quality as there appear to be no text or consumerable resources left from the old MoE school for the staff to use to develop lessons from.

We are, however, impressed by the energy and organisation of the Management team who have been coordinating the changeover for some weeks now. Every discussion we've had with them has shown that they have a solid and well thought-out knowledge of the challenges and requirements of the change from a MoE to an Independent SEC school will mean for the staff and the students. It should also mean that come the 27th the school will be ready to spring into operation.

On the home front Joy and I have settled into our apartment and, following a long exchange of misdirection and misunderstandings, unpacked our final boxes of gear to make the place more homely. Joy has hung her canvases of NZ scenes on the walls in the lounge and lined the walls of the spare bedroom with blank canvases and her paints as a studio and I've set up an alcove in the lounge as a workspace and library. I also picked up a cheap DVD player so we can now enjoy films whenever we want rather than surf our way through the 1050 channels available on the satellite TV to find a programme worth sustained watching.

Joy and Priscilla, as the current surviving "Doha Darlings", are busy plotting and planning their next foray into musical theatre which means they are off most mornings to explore the air conditioned halls of the souqs on the look out for material and items they can put to use. They are waiting on the return of Jan to complete their trio and the "Darlings" will spring into action.

Joy with one of her paintings at the Souq Waqif

Joy and I drove down to the Souq Waqif one evening to check out the "Summer in the City" exhibition Joy had had two paintings exhibited in over the July-September period and were impressed at the range of work and styles the local artists are working in. I think it would be great if Joy could, with other Kiwi artists here in Doha, do a totally NZ art exhibition at sometime. The contrast between the intense colours of the Pacific and the haziness of the Gulf would be interesting to say the least.

On Wednesday we were the guests of the Bloomsbury-Qatar Foundation Publishing House for Iftar, the post fast meal, and a poetry reading by four local poets. The poets read their work in both Arabic and English to a very receptive audience after the meal. The poems revealed the differences in attitude, thought and imagery between male and female in the Middle East as well as the linguistic accomplishment of the poets.

The male poet's work resounded with discords and clashes of images while the women's work focused on the issue or the meaningful moment with intensity and controlled passion which left the audience in earnest discussion after the reading.

This coming week will be interesting especially as I,with my colleagues, will be beginning our work proper and as Ramadan nears its end. Joy and I are also trying to work out what we will do over the Eid break that follows Ramadan - there is a public holiday from the 17th through till the 27th - so we are looking at a trip to Turkey, which would allow us to visit places we didn't get to see when we first went there in 1997, or to Abu Dhabi where we could catch up some of our colleagues from last year as well as drive to Oman and as explore another Gulf State.

Choices!!