Anna Paquin  a biography
by Norman Bilbrough

What if you were an actor and your wildest dream came true  you 
won an Oscar at the Hollywood film awards?  It happened to 
Wellington student Anna Paquin.  Anna never intended to be an 
actor.  In fact, she'd had zero experience in that area before she 
auditioned for the part of a nine-year-old Scottish girl, Flora 
McGrath, in the film The Piano.  
No wonder that at the Hollywood awards night in 1993, Anna gulped 
for breath in front of the microphone.  She made a hasty speech 
thanking all those who had helped her during the making of the 
film.  Winning the award for Best Supporting  Actress, she said, was 
pretty cool.  Then she flew back to Wellington, stuffed her Oscar in 
her clothes drawer and went off with her Hutt Intermediate classmates 
on a school camp.  She was eleven years old at the time.
Anna was born in Winnepeg, Canada, in 1984, and she came to 
New Zealand when she was nine months old.  Her father is 
Canadian; her mother is a New Zealander.  Anna first heard about 
the role of Flora McGrath through a newspaper advertisement 
calling for auditions.  Her older sister, Katya, was going to audition, 
so Anna thought she'd go along too.  She was the smallest and 
shyest girl there.  Film director Jane Campion didn't think Anna 
stood much of a chance, but she admitted that she nearly fell out of her 
chair when Anna auditioned.  "Anna told an incredibly passionate 
story about how Ada, Flora's mother, lost her voice.  She was 
totally believable.  She had a real instinct for performance."
Anna also proved to be an excellent student, and she had all 
the energy a movie actor needed.  Her first task was to learn a new 
accent.  Her speech tutor knew Anna had succeeded when he took her 
to McDonald's and she gave her order in a flawless Scottish accent.  
Next, she had to master sign language and learn to play the piano. 
Anna's was the biggest speaking part in The Piano, and because of 
the film's setting, she had to work long hours in the rain and the 
mud.  Real acting isn't glamorous.  It's mostly hard, tiring work.  
And at the end of it all, when The Piano was finally finished, Anna 
wasn't allowed to see the entire film because of the adult content 
in some of the scenes.
After the international success of The Piano , Anna was offered the 
role of the young Jane Eyre in the movie of that name.  Then, in 
the Canadian movie Fly Away Home she played the part of a girl who 
mothers a flock of goslings.  Before Anna arrived in Canada, tapes of 
her voice had been played to the goslings so they would become 
used to it.  And a gosling actually hatched in Anna's hand!  Anna 
became attached to her new friends but didn't want to take one home.  
She had two cats and a golden retriever called Jessie waiting for 
her back in New Zealand.
Anna's next role was that of a fifteen-year-old in the television 
film Member of the Wedding.  She had to have her long hair cut very 
short and learn an "old Southern" accent.  Other roles have seen her 
adopt Spanish and Jewish accents.  
Anna is now an international star.  She has an agent in New 
Zealand and one in Los Angeles.  She has an accountant and a 
lawyer.  There are Internet sites devoted to her, such as The 
Unofficial Anna Paquin Homepage and Magnus Hjelstuen's The 
Piano Page.  Movie scripts flood into her agents' offices, but Anna 
is the one who chooses which movies she wants to act in.
So what sort of life does Anna have when she's not on location?  
Actually, it's a very normal one.  She lives in a Wellingon suburb 
with her mum and goes to an all girls school.  She studies for exams, 
enjoys rugby, and plays the cello.  She does her homework and her 
chores (this movie star still has to help with the dishes) and, of 
course, she watches movies.  TV violence turns her off, but she really 
likes action movies, such as Speed and Die Hard with a Vengeance. 
Anna's next film is Hurlyburly.  In it, she plays Donna, a 
drifting teenager who gets caught up in a violent Hollywood world 
of people wanting to be actors and agents.  Movie people in the 
United States believe that the secret to Anna's success is that she isn't 
affected by the glamour of her acting life.  Perhaps this is because 
she lives in New Zealand  a place where she can lead an ordinary 
life away from the cameras and where her mother keeps Anna's feet 
firmly on the ground.
As for some acting tips from Anna, she says, "I just do it.  I don't 
know how or why it is that what I do works.  If you think about 
things too much, you know, it's all going to go to your head.  You're 
going to think 'Am I doing it right?'  And it's all going to go 
wrong."  For now, though, it seems that everything actor Anna Paquin 
does is right!

Is That a Soft Drink Bottle You're Wearing?
by Pat Quinn

There's an old fairy story about a strange little man called 
Rumpelstiltskin who could spin straw into gold, but it's just a 
fairy story.  Everyone knows that you can't make something 
valuable out of rubbish  or can you?
In early 1993, an American company found a way to spin 
hard, cold, stiff plastic soft drink bottles into a product that 
people would pay gold (or silver, or bronze) for.  It was a 
product that people would want to wear, snuggle into, or step 
on.  They invented a method of spinning old plastic PET 
(PolyEthylene Terephthalate) bottles into fibre.
This fibre is now used by over a hundred manufacturers to 
make thermal underwear, sweaters, socks, jeans, jackets, 
backpacks, and even carpets.  
Most fleece fabric (the soft fluffy material often used to 
make warm jackets) is made from artificial fibre (polyester) 
that is created in a laboratory.  Recycled bottle fibre is created 
in a laboratory too, but making it uses less energy than making 
ordinary fleece fibre, creates seventeen fewer air pollutants, 
and keeps a lot of plastic bottles out of landfills.  The 
resulting fabric is also light, warm, and long-lasting.  It feels 
like cotton, but it won't shrink or wrinkle.  And most 
importantly for trampers and skiers  it doesn't hold water or 
get itchy or clammy.
The bottle fabric used in New Zealand to make  fleece 
jackets is imported from the United States.  It sells at a 
similar price to other fleece products, but more importantly, 
every average-sized jacket uses twenty-five two-litre soft drink 
bottles!

Fibre Facts
	Ten plastic soft drink bottles go into the 	manufacture 
of (approximately) every five hundred 	grams of new fibre.
	The United States throws out two and a half 	million 
plastic 	soft drink bottles every hour.  	That's sixty 
million 	each day or two billion, one 	hundred and 
ninety 	million per year.
	Plastic soft drink bottles make up five percent of 
	all the plastic found in the solid waste stream.
	By substituting bottle fibre for some of their 
	traditional fleece fibres, American manufacturers 
	claim that in the past two years, they have:
	recycled 4.8 billion bottles
	saved 1.3 million barrels of oil
	eliminated 749 000 tons of harmful air emissions.


Making jackets out of soft drink bottles
From recycling centres, PET bottles are sorted, baled, and 
shipped to a recycling plant.

At the recycling plant, the bottles are sorted by type and 
colour.  They are cleaned, purified, and chopped into small 
flakes.

The flakes are melted and extruded (stretched out into thin 
threads) and then spun into a polyester fibre.

The fibre is used to make a range of products, including the 
fabric for fleece jackets.
 

Putiputi  Flowers of Flax
As taught to Mary Sutherland by Winnie Solomon (Ko te Arawa te waka)


Use these flax flowers to decorate your room or give them as gifts to friends and 
visitors.


Preparing the flax
1.	Take a blade of flax.  Measure half way down the length of the 		
	blade.  Mark this point with a paper clip.
2.	Use your fingernail to divide the blade into six* strips that run 		
	from the halfway mark to the tip of the blade.  The base of the 		
	strips should be of even width (see diagram i).
3.	Remove the paper clip.


Weaving the flax
1.	Lie the blade flat.  Fold the first strip (the one on the right-hand 	
	outside edge of the blade) so that it lies horizontally across the 		
	other strips.  Starting from the right-hand side, weave it over and 	
	under the vertical strips, all the way across the blade (see 			
	diagram ii).
2.	You will now have a new strip of flax on the right-hand outside 		
	edge of the blade.  Repeat the folding and weaving procedure with 	
	strips two to five.  Leave the sixth strip in a vertical position (see 	
	diagram iii).
3.	Turn the blade a quarter turn to the right so that five of the strips 	
	are in the vertical position (see diagram iv).  Weave across the 		
	blade with the one strip that is in the horizontal position.  Now, 	
	weave across the blade with the next four strips, leaving the sixth 	
	strip in a vertical position (see diagram v).
4.	Repeat the weaving and quarter turning procedure until only 		
	three- or four- centimetre lengths of strip remain.


Finishing off
1.	Take a thin strip of flax from the edge of the blade.  Use it to tie 		
	together the short strips that remain.  (These are the putiputi's 	
	stamens.)  Split the ends of the stamens to make them finer.
2.	Trim off any loose ends of flax.  Add extra shape to the putiputi by 	
	twisting the "petals" into a tight spiral and then releasing them.


A bright idea
Use different coloured blades of flax to make a bright bunch of putiputi.

Important
Flax (harakeke) is a native plant.  It has always been treasured by Mΰori as a 
material to be used in everyday life as well as for making decorative items.  
New Zealand's early settlers used flax in many ways, but especially for making 
rope.
Treat flax with respect, and it will continue to provide you with strong 
fibre.  If you look closely at a flax plant, you will notice that a new blade 
grows up in the centre of two others.  To protect the plant, never cut the new 
blade or those on either side of it.  And remember, the first thing that you 
make from flax should always be given away.  Give your finished putiputi to a 
friend and make another for yourself.



*Putiputi may be made using any even number of strips.  The more strips you 
have, the finer your putiputi will be.  The fewer strips you have, the faster it 
will be to make the putiputi. 



Signatures in Space
by Janice Marriott

The largest rocket ever built blasted into space on 15 October 1997.  It 
launched the unmanned Saturn spacecraft Cassini  and a major debate 
at Blenheim's Mayfield Primary School.  Janice Marriott investigates.

It all started when Mayfield Primary School joined the Telecom 
Education Foundation's classroom programme Sea Keepers for Schools.  
What followed was amazing and unpredictable.  A series of coincidences 
and links involving the school, newspapers, and the Internet saw 
Mayfield School's one hundred and seventy students send part of 
themselves into space.  This is how it happened:

The audio conference
Students shared a forty-minute audio conference link with Eugene 
German and Harrison Schmidt, two American NASA (National 
Aeronautics and Space Administration) astronauts who flew on the 
Apollo II space mission. 

The newspaper article
Blenheim's local newspaper, the Marlborough Express, ran an article 
with a photograph, about the students' audio conference. 

The fax
Thane Lundberg, a visiting aeronautical engineer at Woodburn's Royal 
New Zealand Air Force base near Blenheim, just happened to read the 
Marlborough Express article.  He phoned the principal of Mayfield 
School and told him about Signatures in Space, a project that was being 
organised as part of the Cassini mission to Saturn.  Thane then faxed 
Mayfield School students telling them how to have their signatures sent 
into space on the Cassini spacecraft. 

FROM:  Thane Lundberg
SUBJECT:  Your Name in Space

NASA will scan your signatures onto a CD-ROM disc that will be 
installed on the Cassini spacecraft.  Cassini is a deep space probe 
that will fly past an asteroid and Jupiter before going into orbit 
around Saturn.  There is no charge for this service.  Mail your 
signatures on a plain postcard to Suzanne Barber, Jet Propulsion 
Laboratory, Pasadena, California, USA.

Thane

The letter
Trish Erikson, a teacher at Mayfield School, immediately sent a letter 
and Mayfield School's students' signatures to the Jet Propulsion 
Laboratory.  Everyone was very excited to be included in the Signatures 
in Space project. 

The Internet
Through the Internet, Trish's class searched the World Wide Web for 
information about the Cassinni mission and the Signatures in Space 
project.  They found this NASA website: 
http://www.jpl.nasa.gov./cassini/ 
It told them:
	Mayfield School students were not the only people to have their 
signatures on the Cassini spacecraft.  The Jet Propulsion Laboratory 
had received signed postcards from around the world.  
	Over six thousand signatures were sorted, scanned by volunteers, and 
put on a DVD (digital versatile disk).  
	The design on the front of the DVD shows flags from the twenty-
eight countries to have sent in the most signatures, golden eagle 
wing feathers, and the names of the seventeenth century astronomers, 
Cassini and Huygens, after whom the Cassini mission is named.
	The DVD is placed between layers of aluminium mounted on the side 
of the Cassini spacecraft.

The website debate
To their surprise, the students also discovered web sites set up by people 
doubting the safety of the Cassini mission.  These websites told them 
that:
	As part of its fuel, the Cassini rocket carries thirty-two kilograms of 
radioactive plutonium dioxide, the most plutonium ever launched 
into space.
	In August 1999, the Cassini spacecraft will fly just eight hundred 
kilometres above the surface of Earth.  It will travel at more than 
sixty-eight thousand kilometres per hour.  If anything goes wrong, 
such as a collision with space junk or a miscalculation, Cassini 
could re-enter Earth's atmosphere and burn up, releasing the 
radioactive plutonium.
	NASA admits that if there is a fly-by accident, twenty to sixty 
percent of the released plutonium will be in a form that all life 
forms will breathe in. 
	Any released plutonium dioxide will cause illness and many deaths.  
Genetic mutations will occur for centuries afterwards.
	An accidental re-entry to Earth could happen, but NASA says the 
possibility of this happening is less than one in a million.

Hitting the headlines  again
After following the website debate between NASA's web address and 
those of anti-Cassini groups, Mayfield School students began to wonder 
whether the Cassini mission could really endanger Earth.  Some thought 
it was possible  and they felt annoyed.  They no longer wanted their 
signatures to go up with the rocket but it was too late to prevent that 
from happening.  
Five days after the Cassini spacecraft was launched, the 
Marlborough Express ran an article that also appeared in many other 
newspapers around New Zealand.  It explained the classroom debate now 
dividing the students at Mayfield School.

A letter from The New Zealand Spaceflight Association 
The newspaper article was spotted by the New Zealand Spaceflight 
Association.  The Association's vice-president wrote to the school. 

NEW ZEALAND SPACEFLIGHT ASSOCIATION 
PO Box 2945, Wellington, New Zealand

28 October 1997


Dear Mrs Erikson

I was disturbed to see in an item in a recent issue of The Evening Post 
newspaper stating that some of your senior pupils want to erase their 
signatures from the recently launched Cassini spacecraft.

It disturbs me because these impressionable youngsters have seemingly 
been influenced by the disinformation being spread about the risks posed 
by Cassini's plutonium power source.  The Internet is a wonderful 
source of information and education, but it is equally a source of false 
and misleading information.  If you and your pupils want the truth about 
the safety of Cassini's plutonium power source, may I suggest looking at 
NASA's Cassini web site 


Yours sincerely



David Maclennan
Vice-president

Mayfield School's reply
Some students didn't like the tone of the Spaceflight Association's 
letter.  They wrote back.

Mayfield School
Hutcheson St
Blenheim


12 November 1997


Dear David Maclennan

Kia ora.  Thank you for your letter of 28 October 1997.  Our teacher has 
made it clear to us that not everything on the Internet is true.  The 
majority of my class think that the Cassini mission is very safe and 
would be a big help to our technology, but some of the pupils still have 
reservations.   

I think the mission should not have happened because we do not know 
enough about the fuel and how it will react.  When my classmates and I 
grow up, we might be scientists, chemists, physicists, or something else 
in these areas, and then we will be able to work it out for ourselves.


Yours sincerely



Claire Benjamin


In a short time, the students had discovered more about the Cassini 
space mission than they ever expected.  They had also become part of an 
international debate.  That debate continues and so does the voyage of 
the Cassini spacecraft, carrying with it, somewhere out there in space,  
Mayfield's students' signatures  


The Waka Ama Nationals 
by Marianna Hodges  'Atiu and Rarotonga (Takitimu)
Brandon Intermediate School

Kia orana!  My name is Marianna Hodges.  I live in Porirua, and I belong 
to the Ngΰ Tini Hoe O Aniuwaru Ki Porirua Waka Ama Club.  We train 
every Saturday, and we race at local regattas to help us improve our 
paddling skills and make our minds strong.
I'm the captain of my midget girls crew, which is called Tai Whetω 
(Star of the Sea), but sometimes I paddle with other crews.
Each crew member has a number according to their seating position 
in the waka.  Everyone has a special job, but it's the responsibility of 
the whole team to keep the waka moving at speed.  I'm number six in my 
midgets team.  I steer the waka using a paddle that's stronger than the 
rest of the crew's.  Whenever I can, I join in the regular paddling.  One 
crew member calls instructions so that we paddle using the right strokes 
and on the correct side of the waka to keep us on course.
Recently our club travelled to the waka ama national competitions in 
Whangarei.  We stayed on a marae for seven nights.  We weren't  
scheduled to paddle for the first few days, so we had the chance to watch 
other teams compete and to cheer for our club.  Everyone at the 
nationals looked really fit, and they dressed to show who they supported.  
We were kept busy with our marae duties, too, and we were told that we 
did our jobs really well.  
Our first competition was in a double-hulled waka.   A double hull is 
made of two waka joined together.  The outriggers are taken off two 
single hulls, and the crosspieces that remain are lashed to each other 
using strips of tyre inner tubes.
Our crew for this race was a mixed boys and girls intermediate team.  
An intermediate team is made up of members aged between fourteen and 
sixteen years  but I'm only twelve years old!  My nephew, Manaaki, 
who is also twelve, was responsible for steering.  
We positioned ourselves at the starting line, and I looked down the 
race lane.  It  seemed a long way to the finish.  I started to get 
butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it.  Then the green starting 
flag went up.  We were away!  I put my head down and listened to the 
beat of the paddle strokes against the waka.
We paddled well, but we didn't make it into the finals with that race 
 or with our second one, a mixed midget crew where I paddled in 
position number two.  But at least we tried hard. 
We had just one race left  the midget girls 1500 metres.  This was 
our big one and our last chance to make it into the finals.  We had to 
paddle down the race lane, turn at the end, paddle back to the start, go 
around a flag, and sprint to the finish line.  I was nervous as we lined 
up.  I even started to cry because I was so scared.  We all put our hands 
on the waka and said a karakia, and then I felt  a little better.  
It was hard keeping our waka in position as we waited to start.  
Then, suddenly, we were away.  The wind was blowing hard as we headed 
down the lane, which made my job of steering very difficult.  When the 
wind blew our waka off-course, I knew that we were in real trouble.  
Shanalee, in position number five and nearest to me, couldn't help 
because she didn't know how to steer.  Nellie Ann was the only person 
who could help, but she was sitting at number four.  She and I quickly 
decided that she should change places with Shanalee.  So, with Nellie 
Ann's help, we steered back into the lane.
Now we had to try to catch up with the other waka.  We were a long 
way behind, and as we completed our first turn, there were still five 
craft in front of us.  We paddled hard back up the lane and did a good, 
quick turn so that as we sprinted to the finish, there were only three 
waka in front.  We'd made a good recovery, but it wasn't good enough to 
take us into the finals  at least that's what we thought 
As we were walking sadly back to the van, our coach (my dad) met 
us.  He was grinning.  He said that we had made it to the finals because 
our time was fast enough!  We all cheered. 
The finals were very early on Saturday morning.  On our way to the 
race, we sang and did our stretches.  Once we'd shown our identity 
cards, we were given a waka  and this time, once we'd started, there 
was no holding us back.
Towards the end of the race, our muscles were straining, but we kept 
paddling.  It came time to make our last turn.  Tupopongi, at number 
one, and Victoria, at number two, did powerful waho strokes to pull the 
nose around quickly.  There were only two waka in front of us.  The first 
had almost crossed the finish line.  That meant a race to see who would 
come second.  It  was us against them.  We were coming second, then 
third.  Our "powerhouse", Api'i and Jaylene, joined with us to pile on 
more speed just before the finishflag  and we made it!  We'd come 
second in the 1500-metre finals!  We were screaming and crying and 
hugging each other because it was our first time at the nationals, and 
we'd done really well.  
Nellie Ann was filmed for television, and some of us were picked to 
go on a radio programme.  (I think the media thought our team had come 
first because we were so happy!)  Our club had to wait a long time to 
awhi us.  They stood in a line, and we gave our special handshake and 
shared lots of cuddles and tears.
We couldn't wait to have those silver medals around our necks.  Our 
club name, Aniuwaru, and our team name, Tai Whetu, were called out, 
and everyone cheered.  When we were presented with our medals, my 
brother strummed the ukulele, and his crew and my dad sang a Cook 
Islands song for us to dance to.  
And that wasn't the end of our club's success at the nationals.  My 
brother, Turi, won a bronze medal in the OC1 class  a one-person 
outrigger canoe race.  He'll be racing at the world competitions in Fiji.
At the end of the nationals, we returned to Porirua and our very 
proud families.  We're proud of ourselves, too, and our coach.  Now, 
when we go to training, our friends and families always say, "Next time 
it will be a gold medal."

How Ngΰ Tini Hoe O Aniuwaru Ki Porirua Waka Ama Club got its 
name
The club's name is based on the legend of Rata, who cut down a huge 
tree to make a canoe for himself.  During the night, many insects put the 
tree together again.  Rata cut the tree down a second time, and again it 
was put together by the insects.  Only when Rata asked Tΰne Mahuta, the 
god of the forest, for permission to cut the tree down was he allowed to 
use it for his canoe.  The club remembers the way in which the creatures 
of the forest worked together without giving up in order to complete 
their task.

Glossary
Aniuwaru		the name of the waka of Rata 
awhi			embrace or hug
hoe				paddle
ngΰ tini			the many
waho stroke		a hard drawing in of the paddle to 		
		help direct the waka
waka ama		a canoe with an outrigger


E-mail from Alaska
by Bernadette Cantin-Buckley

When Andrew Michalscheck of Alaska e-mailed his New Zealand 
Internet-pal for the first time, the letter contained a few 
surprises.

Dear Bernadette
When you're freezing in the middle of a southerly this winter, 
spare a thought for me.  My name is Andrew Michalscheck, and I 
live in Eagle River, a township about 18 kilometres north of 
Anchorage, Alaska.  I'm twelve and in the sixth grade (form two) 
at Ravenwood Elementary School.
Winter here in Anchorage is incredibly cold.  Temperatures 
can go as low as 36°F degrees fahrenheit (almost 38°C).  
There are only about five hours of daylight on a midwinter's 
day, which means that I travel to and from school in darkness.  
Even though winter is so cold, our state laws say that 
elementary school children have to play outside unless it is 
colder than 10°F (23°C)!  We get snow for about six months of 
the year, and there's always great excitement when it finally 
disappears. 
Because of the freezing conditions, young students over here 
get into some sticky situations.   Every year, little kids are 
warned not to lick the metal posts that get covered in frost, but 
every year some of them try it out.  Their tongues end up frozen 
to the posts, and getting freed can be pretty painful! 
Even in the cities, students in Alaska sometimes have 
exciting encounters with the animal world.  One afternoon my 
class was kept in because there was a bear loose in the 
playground.  Bears are dangerous, and they occasionally attack 
campers who leave food in their tents.  We keep a look-out for 
moose, too.  They often come into my family's garden to eat the 
fruit trees, but we know never to disturb them, especially if 
they have calves with them.  From time to time, you hear 
reports of moose stomping on people who confront them.
Apart from the odd bear on the loose, Alaska is a great place 
to live  and it has an interesting history that spells good news 
for my bank account.  In 1867, the state of Alaska was sold to 
America by Russia for US$7.2 million.  That turned out to be a 
bad decision by the Russians because Alaska is rich in natural 
resources, especially oil.  Each year, every Alaskan resident 
(including children) gets a payment from the state government 
as their share of the sale of oil from the Alaska pipeline.  Last 
year, my share was US $1,130.   I've been putting my money into 
the bank.  I should probably keep it for my college education  
but I'd rather spend it on a car!
Well, that's all from me this time.  E-mail me soon and tell 
me about school in New Zealand and those weird  birds that 
can't fly  the ones with the long beaks. 

Your Internet-pal
Andrew

Pentecost Land Diving
by Bonnie Stephens

The old ones of Vanuatu tell of a Pentecost Island tribesman, 
Tamaliι, an arrogant husband who made unreasonable 
demands on his young wife.  She tried to escape from him 
many times, but after each attempt, his treatment of her was 
more severe.  At last she took refuge in a banyan tree.  When 
he confronted her there, she dared him to follow her to the 
top and leap to the ground with her.  She reasoned with him 
that if they survived, they were meant for each other.  She 
would then submit to his authority, and they would live in 
peace.  
Tamaliι accepted her challenge.  They leaped, and 
Tamaliι plunged to his death.  His wife survived, her fall 
broken just centimetres above the ground by vines she had 
tied to her ankles.
Brave women continued to jump in memory of the 
courageous and desperate young wife until village elders 
became concerned about an ominous moaning in the trees.  
They decided that the spirit of Tamaliι was angry and that, if 
this was so, then the new yams might not grow well.  Perhaps, 
they said, if divers leaped in Tamaliι's honour, their heads 
just brushing the ground, his spirit would be pleased, and so 
a good yam harvest would be assured.
From that time on, only men jumped.  And still today, on 
certain days in April, May, and June, in certain villages at 
the southern end of Pentecost Island, land divers jump from 
incredible heights to assure an abundant yam harvest.  

Land diving today
The rainy season has ended, and the threat of cyclones has 
passed.  The vegetation is dense and lush, the sky cloudless, 
and the heat of the early morning sun intense.  The steep 
hillside is partly cleared and terraced for the ceremony.
The tower dominates the hillside.  Built of vine-lashed 
saplings and branches and secured by more vines to 
neighbouring trees and the hillside, it is weak in its parts but 
strong as a whole.  The lower part of the tower rises 
vertically from the ground for about 16 metres, and then it 
tapers upwards to a total height of 20 metres or more.  
Platforms protrude from the front.
From each platform hang two creepers, each ending with a 
bundle of fibres wrapped in green leaves.  The divers have 
selected their own vines, having carefully considered length 
and elasticity.  If the vine has too much stretch, the diver 
will crush his head; if it has too little, he may be jerked back 
against the tower and suffer broken bones.  Only 10 
centimetres can make the difference between a successful 
land dive and tragedy.  These lifelines almost touch the 
sloping ground, which has been cleared of stumps and stones 
and loosened to a depth of about 25 centimetres.
The chief addresses the assembly and then takes his seat 
on a log at the foot of the slope.  The ceremony has officially 
begun.  Men wearing the traditional nambas and women and 
girls in long grass skirts flank the rear of the tower.  As they 
sing and dance, their accompaniment rises and falls with the 
events of the ceremony.  Three men are positioned on the 
slope to retrieve the divers and help them to rejoin the 
company of the villagers.  An experienced elder tests each 
vine for safety.
The first diver, a young boy of seven or eight, mounts the 
lowest platform, about 10 metres from the ground.  Behind 
him, another, more experienced diver pulls up the two vines 
attached to the platform, removes the leaves, and ties the 
vines to the boy's ankles, being careful not to tangle these 
vines with the others that hang from the tower.  When all is 
ready, the boy steps to the very end of the platform.  The 
singing gets louder.  He arches his back, raises his hands, 
claps, and falls forward.  
A silent figure holding a cloth "baby" watches her son 
intently from the side.  As the creepers extend, they pull on 
the end of the platform, causing it to snap and fold down, 
absorbing some of the jolt.  The vines stretch, and the boy's 
flight is abruptly halted as he is jerked back towards the 
tower.  As the men on the slope rush forward and raise him 
high, the mother tosses her bundle into the air, signifying 
that her son's childhood is over.  The boy is carried uphill to 
level ground, cut free from the vines, and returned to the 
company of the onlookers.
The drama heightens with each platform reached.  A diver 
may choose to back out, which he can do without shame.  
Another quickly takes his place.  The singers and dancers 
have moved their way forward during the ceremony so that 
they are nearly to the front of the tower.  Only one diver is 
left to jump.  He will leap from the highest point  a platform 
different from the rest in that it offers no supports to hold on 
to for balance.  On it, the "chief of the tower", the overseer 
of the construction, poises himself for the last dive, a red 
cloth in his hands.  His chest heaves with several deep 
breaths.  As he raises his hands, the choir and dancers move 
towards the front of the tower.  In what seems like slow 
motion, he lets the cloth slip from his fingers, arches his 
back, and slowly falls forward, pushing out to avoid any 
projecting part of the tower.  Ecstatic, the crowd rushes to 
the master diver and lifts him in triumph.  The ceremony is 
over.

3D Noughts and Crosses 
by Douglas Carian

Most people can play noughts and crosses, but not many know about the 
3D version of the game. It's easy to play, but first you have to make 
your own equipment. 

You will need:
	scissors
	a ruler
	paint
	a dark-coloured marker pen 
	stiff card (carton cardboard works well)
	a strong paper punch or a sharp-pointed instrument, such as a 
compass (for making make holes in the card)
	twenty-four rubber bands
	four 22-centimetre-long pieces of 6-millimetre-wide dowel bought 
from a hardware shop (or use four knitting needles).  These are the 
playing board's supports.

Making the playing boards
	Cut three 18-by-18-centimetre squares of stiff card (your playing 
boards).
	If you want to paint the playing boards and the supports, do this now 
and leave them to dry (but don't use dark paint for the boards, or it 
will be difficult to see your playing pieces).  
	Using the marker pen and ruler, divide each playing board into nine 
equal squares.  (Each square should measure 3 by 3 centimetres.)
	Using the hole punch or the sharp instrument, make a hole in each 
corner of the top playing board.  (The holes should be just large 
enough for the supports to fit through.)  Don't make the holestoo 
close to the corners, or the card will tear when the supports are 
pushed through.  Note:  If you are using a sharp instrument, place a 
piece of scrap wood behind the board.
	Place the top playing board exactly over the middle playing board.  
Push a pen through the corner holes to make marks on the middle 
playing board.  Repeat with the base board.  
	Make holes through the corners of the middle and base boards using 
the pen marks as guides. 

Assembling the playing boards
	Wind a rubber band tightly around each support.  (The rubber bands 
should be positioned about 2 centimetres from the bottom of the 
supports.)  
	Gently push the supports through the holes in the underside of the 
base board.  Slide the base board down the supports so that it rests 
on the rubber bands.
	Stretch a rubber band tightly over each support and position it so 
that the base board is held snugly in place.  (See diagram ii.)
	Use rubber bands to hold the middle and top boards in place in the 
same way, positioning the boards as shown in the photograph.

Making the counters
To make your own counters, paint each three pieces of cardboard a 
different colour.  When the paint is dry, cut the cardboard into small 
squares or triangles.  Two players will need a set of fourteen counters 
each, each set a different colour.  If three people play, the third player 
will need a set of nine counters (in a third colour).  

Playing the game
There are several different ways to play 3D noughts and crosses. 

The short game
The rules for this game are the same as for ordinary noughts and crosses.  
The first player places a counter on any of the twenty-seven spaces.  The 
second player places a counter in one of the remaining twenty-six 
spaces, and so on.  The winner is the first player to make a straight line 
with three of their counters.  Look at diagram (i) to see the different 
ways in which you can make a straight "3D line.  (In the diagram, 
numbers have been used instead of counters.)

The long game
Instead of stopping after the first straight line has been completed, 
players try to make as many straight lines as possible by placing pieces 
on the boards until all twenty-seven spaces are filled.  The player who 
moves first always has the advantage, and so, to make the game fair, you 
should play two rounds with a different player starting each time.  Add 
together the scores from the two rounds to find the overall winner of the 
game.
Note:  a player may complete two different lines at once with just one 
counter.

The supergame for superminds
This is similar to the long game, but instead of using playing boards and 
counters, you draw on paper three grids like those in diagram (iii).  
Instead of counters, each player uses a chosen coloured pen or a symbol 
to mark their moves.  This game is a challenge because you have to work 
out in your mind when a player has made a straight line.  Look at 
diagram (iii) to see the different ways in which you can make straight 
"3D lines" using the supergame method.


Note:  To make a stronger, extraspecial 3D noughts and crosses board, 
use squares of clear perspex instead of card.  Drill holes in the corners 
of the boards and hold the supports in place with PVA glue.



Rubber bands
Base board
Top board
Middle board
Base board
Diagram (i)
Diagram (ii)

Free the Children
by Bartha Hill

Most young people do work of some kind.  Some deliver 
newspapers, mow lawns, or help out in shops.  Others mind little 
brothers or sisters.  They're paid for their work, and they use 
their money to buy the everyday things they want.  Many young 
workers give some, or even all, of their earnings to their parents, 
especially if their family needs the money to buy food and clothes.
There's nothing wrong with this kind of work.  It gives young 
people independence and allows them to help themselves and 
others.  But well over 250 million children, aged between four 
and fifteen, work up to twelve hours a day, six days a week.  They 
do many different jobs.  For example, in India and Nepal, they 
make carpets and chip stones.  In Bangladesh, they make 
fireworks, cigarettes, matches, and clothing.  In Peru, they work 
in gold mines.  Too often they work in dangerous conditions for very 
little money and never have the opportunity to go to school.  This 
sort of employment is the modern equivalent of child slavery.

Vali
Vali is eleven years old.  She lives in Kuparedi Candigai, an 
Indian village situated just below the huge rock face that 
her family has worked for generations.  Everyone in Vali's 
family works in the quarry.  The men break off rocks, and 
the women and children pound them into smaller pieces.
Vali's day starts just after dawn, at about 6 a.m.  She does 
general jobs around the family hut and then takes breakfast 
to her parents at the rock face.  She stays to work alongside 
her mother, chipping rocks and looking after her younger 
sister.  Each week, to make enough money to buy the food 
they need, the family must break enough rocks to fill a 
tractor trailer.
"I get pains in my hands and legs and in my shoulders," 
says Vali.  "The nerves in my neck hurt too."
At one time, Vali went to school and was top of her class.  
Now, her dad has tuberculosis, and because he isn't able to 
earn as much as he used to, Vali has to work in the quarry.  
She tries to keep up her studies and borrows books from her 
best friend, Rada.  But she just hasn't got enough time for 
schoolwork.
"I'm very unhappy that Vali can't go to school, but what 
choice do we have?" says her mother.  "I can only hope that 
she can marry an educated husband so that she will not have to 
live like we do now."


Parents are usually unhappy that their children have to work in 
harsh conditions, but the problem begins when a family desperately 
needs money and has to borrow because there is no other way out.
When rains don't come, harvests fail and farmers lose their 
income.  When illness strikes, doctors and medicines must be paid 
for.  If the patient is the breadwinner, it is even more difficult 
because the family loses its income. Traditional family celebrations 
can cost a lot of money too.  In India, when a girl gets married, her 
parents have to give a dowry to the bridegroom's parents.  If they 
can't pay, their daughter won't be able to marry or she will be 
shamed.  
Families that are forced to borrow approach a money lender (a 
mudalali), who charges high rates of interest, sometimes as much 
as three hundred percent.  As a guarantee against the loan and 
interest not being repaid (and this is usually the case), the money 
lender demands something that he can sell.  Some families offer 
jewellery or a part of their next harvest.  But families who have 
nothing but their child's labour offer that.
In India, this tradition of "bonded labour" goes back 
thousands of years.  A mudalali whose loan isn't repaid will find 
work for a child as young as four and keep most of the money that 
the child earns.  It is very likely that the child will still be 
working to pay off the family loan when they are a young adult.

Murugan
Murugan is eleven years old, and he lives with his family 
(his parents, a younger brother and sister, and a married 
sister with her husband and two children) in a one-roomed 
house in Sevikasi, a town in southern India.
A few years ago, Murugan's parents, Chinabal and 
Diliago, needed to borrow $150 for food and other 
necessities for their children.  To get the money, they had 
no option but to bond Murugan to a moneylender, who 
arranged for him to work in the beedi* business until the 
money and all the interest had been repaid.
Making beedis is demanding work.  Children start as 
early as 6 a.m. and don't finish until 10 p.m.  They have few 
breaks, and the boss provides only sips of water.  If parents 
don't bring their children food, they go hungry.  The young 
workers get sore backs, shoulders, and legs, and the dust 
from the tobacco they work with causes lung disease.
Murugan has to make two thousand beedis per day.  If he is 
slow and can't make the total, his boss beats him.  This 
happens regularly, leaving Murugan bruised and sore.
Except for $4 per week, all of Murugan's wages go to pay 
the moneylender.  He has no time to go to school, but he 
would love to learn to read and write and, one day, to be a 
tailor. 

*Beedis are cheap cigarettes made from leaves and tobacco.

It's hard work
Bosses like having children work for them.  They don't need to 
pay them much, children don't make trouble, and there are many 
jobs that they think children do better than adults because of 
their small hands and fingers.  
Much of the work that children do is hazardous, but the bosses 
don't provide safety equipment.  They don't pay for medical care 
if their workers get sick or provide compensation if a worker 
can't work any longer.
In 1998, when there was an explosion in a fireworks factory in 
Bangladesh, many of the children who worked there died.  Others 
were scarred for life.  They received no compensation or medical 
expenses.


Help is on the way
School plus
Some big companies can make a difference to the lives of child 
labourers.  When an international jeans company discovered that two 
of its Bangladeshi contractors employed workers under the age of 
fourteen, it arranged for these children to receive wages while they 
attended school.  Once the children turned fourteen, they were able to 
return to their jobs. 

The Rugmark Foundation  
The Rugmark Foundation (an international organisation involved with 
selling handmade rugs) uses a special label to guarantee that the 
carpets that it markets have been made without child labour.  Each 
carpet is labelled with a computer code identifying the exporter, 
the loom owner, and the actual loom used.  Rugmark inspectors 
visit factories, without warning, to check on workers and working 
conditions.

International aid
International aid agencies are helping families to find better ways to 
repay loans.  So that children can attend school, agencies pay students 
the small wage that they would be earning if they were at work.  

Barathi
Thirteen-year-old Barathi gets up early every morning to sweep 
the house.  She is only too pleased to do this, and other 
chores, because she knows that she will soon be leaving for 
school.  She is one of the lucky ones.
When she was ten years old, her father became very ill, 
and her mother had to borrow money to pay the doctor.  
Barathi had to work in a beedi factory.  "I found it very 
difficult," she says.  "I started early in the morning, had a 
short lunch break, and then went back on duty till late into 
the night."
"My thighs and hips were sore.  Rolling the beedis hurt 
my fingers, and my neck ached because I had to bend over 
all the time.  I longed to escape, but I knew that if I ran 
away, my mother would be in trouble."
Barathi watched her friends playing and going to school.  She 
wondered if she would ever be able to join them again.  
Fortunately, her former teacher, an international aid worker 
with World Vision, knew what had happened to her. He was able 
to arrange the payment of Barathi's family's debt so that she 
could be free.
Barathi is now back in school, and it hasn't taken her long to 
catch up with the others in her class.  Her teacher says that she 
is bright enough to eventually attend college.

Children helping children
Craig Kielburger, a young Canadian, was just twelve years old 
when he read a story that concerned him very much.  It was about 
Iqbal Masih, a Pakistani boy of his own age.  When Iqbal was four 
years old, he was forced to work twelve hours a day, six days a week 
for a carpet weaver in order to pay back a family debt.  When he was 
ten years old, he ran away and told his story to anyone who would 
listen, hoping that this might help free other children in the same 
situation.  Two years later, he was found murdered.  No one 
knows who killed him.
The story shocked Craig:  "I'd always thought that slavery, 
bonded labour, was something out of the eighteenth and 
nineteenth centuries  that it had been abolished, that it no longer 
existed."
Craig researched the issue of bonded labour and presented his 
findings to his class at school.  He invited the students to help him 
carry on the work that Iqbal Masih had started.  All twenty of his 
classmates agreed.  It was the beginning of Free the Children, an 
international organisation with groups in many parts of the world.  
Today, aged fourteen, Craig travels around the world, influencing 
government policies and appearing regularly on television.  
Free the Children is about children speaking out on behalf of 
children and working for change.  It's about helping those who are not 
free to help themselves.

To find out more about child labour, request the video Tragedy of 
Child Labour.  It is available, free of charge, from the World Vision 
Information Centre, Private Bag 92078, Auckland.  e-mail:  
infocentre@worldvision.org.nz  To check out the work of Free the 
Children tune in to the Internet on this website:  
http://www.freethechildren.org


Starting a Family Tree 
by Shirley Thomson

So, you'd like to start your own family tree?  Great!  You're joining 
thousands of New Zealanders in one of the most popular hobbies in the 
world.  But where do you begin?  The answer is always the same  with 
yourself.

Me, myself, I
You may know where and when you were born, but writing down only 
dates and places is boring.  You're a unique person, so why not list the 
places where you have lived, your interests, and your achievements?  
For example, if you are in a sports team or enjoy collecting stamps, say 
so.  If possible, check out your birth certificate  but respect the fact 
that it might not be available to you until you are older.

Next up  parents
We each have two biological parents.  Some of us have step-parents, 
adoptive parents, or foster parents as well.  You don't have to include 
everyone on your family tree if you don't wish to.  That's up to you  
and them.  
Once you've decided who you'll include, find out all you can about 
where and when those people were born (and, perhaps, died).  Note the 
details of where they lived and where and when they may have married.  
List their occupations, achievements, and hobbies.  Ask heaps of 
questions but remember that everyone has a right to privacy.  It may be 
that you have to wait until you are older before you can complete your 
family tree.

BE TACTFUL BUT PERSISTENT
RESPECT OTHERS'RIGHTS TO PRIVACY

Don't stop now
Where possible, include siblings (brothers and sisters) and any uncles 
and aunts in your family tree.  Once again, add the interesting details as 
well as the bare facts.

Back, back, back 
Take a step back into the past and check out your grandparents.  Write 
down the bare facts first:  names, and dates and places of births, deaths, 
and marriages.  If it's possible, try interviewing your grandparents to 
find out interesting details about their lives.  It can be helpful to use a 
video or a tape recorder when collecting information.  Lifestyles have 
changed over the years, so ask about the many changes they have seen in 
transport, entertainment, fashions, and so on.  Remember that each of 
your grandparents has had their own parents and grandparents.  With 
luck, you will find out about several more generations.  
If your grandparents are no longer alive, your family may be able to 
tell you what they know about them.  

BE PATIENT AND LISTEN CAREFULLY

Snap up a photo
It's time to think about photographs.  Ask your friends and family for 
any photographs that they might have of the people listed on your family 
tree.  A cheap way to copy photographs is to use a laser photocopier or a 
computer scanner.

TAKE GREAT CARE OF ANY PHOTOS THAT YOU BORROW AND 
RETURN THEM PROMPTLY 

Records of the past
Documents such as birth, death, or marriage certificates are a good 
source of family information.  You may be lucky enough to have 
someone in your family who has kept these and other documents in a 
family scrapbook, a birthday book, or a family bible.  Do as much 
research as you can within your family and write everything down.
The time will come when you need to start researching further afield.  
If you have the date of a person's birth, death, or marriage, visit the 
library to see if you can find a newspaper notice of the event.  If one of 
your ancestors was well known, you might even find an obituary.  An 
obituary is a brief account of a person's life written soon after they 
died.
Most old library newspapers have been copied onto microfilm, which 
must be loaded onto a film reader.  A librarian will show you what to do 
and how to make a photocopy from the film reader.
If you're not sure about dates, you can find the year in which an 
event was registered by looking in the Registrar's indexes of births, 
deaths, and marriages.  The indexes are available in major libraries.  
They will be stored on microfiches, small plastic sheets about the size 
of a postcard.  The text will be extremely small, and so the information 
will have to be read on a microfiche reader.  Ask a librarian for help.  If 
your local library doesn't store the indexes, ask a librarian to give you 
the address of a local Genealogical Society member who may be able to 
help you.
When you have found the entry you want, you can then send to the 
Registrar General's office for more information.  The library will be 
able to give you the address you need.  Don't ask the Registrar 
General's office for a birth, death, or marriage certificate.  Instead, ask 
for a photocopy of an entry.  In this way, you will pay about half the 
amount that you would for a certificate.  You will also receive more 
information than you would find on a certificate.

Overseas explorer
If you discover that many of your family members live or have lived 
overseas, you may need to contact a Family History Centre Library.  You 
can find the address of your nearest library by phoning your local 
branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Family 
History Centre libraries store a huge collection of records on 
microfiche, microfilm, and computer disc.  The staff are friendly and 
helpful.

File it away
Store all your information in a book, a folder, or a special box.  If you 
have a computer in your home, you may want to find out about programs 
that have been written specially for recording family histories.  These 
programs make it simple for you to print out easy-to-read, informative 
charts.  Some programs are available at computer shops; others are 
available more cheaply through "shareware".  

Hooked?
If following your family history has you hooked and you want to find 
out more, think about joining a local genealogy group.  You'll meet 
others who share your new interest, and you'll pick up lots of tips on 
how to research your family story even further.  If there's not a 
genealogy group in your area, write to The New Zealand Society of 
Genealogists at PO Box 8795, Symonds Street, Auckland 1035 for ideas 
on where and how to research next.  

Congratulations
As a family recordkeeper, you hold an important position.  Don't be 
surprised if family members come to you for information  or for help 
with starting their own family trees.


Millions and Millions of People
by John Bonallack

Not having a brother or a sister isn't too uncommon.  But what if you 
had no aunts, no uncles  not even a cousin you could visit in the 
holidays?  Life might get pretty lonely  not to mention the fact that 
you'd get fewer birthday and Christmas presents!  But if you lived in 
The People's Republic of China, it's almost certain that you would 
have very few relatives.  

Why are the family trees so different?
China has a big problem.  Its population is just too enormous.  
Without population control, there would soon be too many people to 
feed, house and educate.  Since the late 1970s, China's communist 
government has set about solving the problem with a "one child per 
family" policy.  It's a drastic move.  Most New Zealand families 
wouldn't be happy with that much government control.  But the 
biggest country in the world has decided that the risks of over-
population are too great to ignore.  
To make sure that people obey the one-child policy, the 
government has set up some special laws.  If a family has more than 
one child, the parents may be heavily fined.  They are likely to lose 
their jobs.  Their second child cannot be "registered" and so it won't 
have the same chances of education and, later on, employment.  
Unfortunately, solving one problem often creates others.  Many 
parents in China, particularly farmers in rural areas, prefer to have 
a son.  One reason is that when a daughter marries, she usually goes 
to live with her husband's family, leaving her parents without 
company or security for their old age.  Since the one-child policy 
became law, there are cases of girl babies being killed or abandoned.
China's answer to population control is far from perfect.  Many 
people disagree with it, and some disobey it.  But so far, no other 
country in the world has come up with a more effective solution.


photo caption 
Families in China are small.  If you see two children together on a 
family outing they are probably twins or friends.

map caption
There are more than a billion people in the People's Republic of 
China  one fifth of the world's population.

diagram text
If the Chinese population control policy was to work perfectly for 
three generations, these are the people you would be related to in a 
Chinese family.
grandmother
grandmother
grandfather
grandfather
mother
father
you

These are some of the people you may be related to in a New Zealand 
family.
grandmother
grandmother
grandfather
grandfather
uncle
uncle
uncle
uncle
uncle
aunt
aunt
aunt
aunt
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
cousin
sister
brother
you

Training Trotters
by Jane Buxton

Eleven-year-old Sam Moody has a very interesting job.  When he isn't 
busy playing rugby or cricket, he works at his father's trotting stables.  
The Moodys have twelve horses in training, and that means a lot of work 
to do.  Sam doesn't mind.  The more he does, the more money he earns, 
and right now he's saving up for a new  and expensive  pair of rugby 
boots.
After school, Sam goes straight to the stables.  The horses are still 
out in their paddocks, but his father is preparing their evening feeds.  
They have a mixture of crushed oats, chaff, maize, and peas with 
molasses and various minerals added to it.
Sam loads a trolley with hay and delivers one slab to each stable.  
He does the same with the buckets of feed.  Then he and his father bring 
the horses in from their paddocks and put each one in its own stable for 
the night.
Sam works in the weekends too.  He uses a shovel and wheelbarrow 
to collect all the manure.  And he carefully scrubs out the drinkers.  
These are the automatic drinking troughs in each stable.
Behind the stables, the Moodys have an eight-hundred-metre oval 
track where they train their trotters.  Sam puts the harnesses and sulkies 
on the horses so that they're ready for his father to drive around the 
track.
There's one special horse that Sam's allowed to drive.  Her name is 
Master Triumph, and she's very quiet and sensible.  Driving is fun.  But 
even with a docile horse like Master Triumph, Sam finds that he has to 
concentrate hard on steering and holding the reins firmly so that she 
doesn't get out of control.
Sam jogs the mare for twenty minutes, and then his father takes over 
to give her a short, fast workout.  She has to be fit for a race meeting 
next week  Sam's family is pinning their hopes on her.

When race day comes, Sam is really excited.  Will his favourite horse 
win her race?  Master Triumph and several other trotters are loaded onto 
the enormous horse truck.  The Moodys travel in the front. 
When they arrive at the race track, it's Sam's job to fill the water 
buckets for his father's horses.  He also has to collect each horse's 
number before it races.  A racehorse wears a number on its back so that 
it can be easily identified as it speeds around the track.  After each 
race, Sam removes the gear from his father's horses and returns the 
numbers to the numbers room.
Today, Master Triumph's number is 16.  Sam hopes it's a lucky one  
his father has promised him a bonus if she wins.
Sam borrows his father's binoculars to watch the race.  It's very 
exciting.  He can see number 16 in the distance.  She's near the back, 
but her driver is bringing her round the outside.  The crowd is yelling.  
Master Triumph is gaining ground.  She's only one length from the front 
now.  
"Come on!" Sam whispers.  "You can do it!" 
The crowd is cheering.  The loudspeaker is blaring.  "And the winner 
is number 16, Master Triumph "
Sam and his family join Master Triumph in the birdcage to receive 
the trophy and prize money.  This is an important occasion for Sam.  It's 
a great feeling to know that you've trained a winner.
Later, Sam's father gives him his bonus money.  "How will you 
spend it?" he asks.  "Those rugby boots, I suppose?  Or a new bike 
helmet?"
But Sam shakes his head.  "No," he grins.  "I'm going to buy an 
enormous bag of carrots for my favourite horse.  She deserves it!"


