Days of wine and Adelaide

Some episodes from one’s youth are harder to forget than others. It helps when free wine and attractive people are involved. For Kee Thuan Chye, the first Adelaide Week held promises that are still keenly cherished.

By Kee Thuan Chye

I was very pleased to hear that the Penang state government has recently proposed a revival of Adelaide Week in Penang, and Penang Week in Adelaide. The last one was held some years ago – was it in 2003? – but it seems long forgotten now.

The inaugural Adelaide Week in Penang, however, is still vivid in my memory. Which is strange because these days, things that happened a week before tend to get dislodged from my memory cells, whereas that Adelaide Week happened 35 years ago.

Perhaps something that’s valuable tends to be well remembered. Or perhaps it’s still vivid because it happened during that period in my youth when the mind was as bright as the colour of optimism and dreams were still sharp and waiting to be fulfilled. But I’m being maudlin. It’s more likely that the Adelaide Week dinner held at Runnymede that time offered plenty of alcohol and plenty of cheese – far beyond the expectations of a university student, which I was then – and the tangy taste of both had exuded a preservative effect on memory.

The then Premier of South Australia was present at the dinner. He has been said to be one of the best and most colourful state premiers Australia has ever had. A charming, urbane man with a cosmopolitan worldview, Donald Dunstan came across as a friend of Asians long before the debate began about whether Australia should consider itself part of the West or part of Asia. His wife-to-be then, Adele Koh, was Penang-born. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with lung cancer in October 1978. When she died a few months later, he was badly affected. Not long after, he became seriously ill. He collapsed in Parliament and was advised to take six months off to recover. In February 1979, he announced his retirement as Premier of South Australia from his hospital room, while wearing a dressing gown.

That night at the Adelaide Week dinner, I kept telling my friends who came with me that I wanted to shake Donald Dunstan’s hand. According to them, I actually shouted it out quite loudly throughout the dinner. I don’t know why I was so caught up with wanting to shake the man’s hand. Perhaps it was the wine, but I think it was more than that. You know the phrase in vino veritas – when you’re intoxicated, something truthful from within you emerges. Perhaps it was an instinct I had about Dunstan.

Or perhaps I was enraptured by the young Australian woman who was serving us the wine. I clearly remember her name was Virginia. Occasionally, during the dinner, I wondered aloud to my friends whether she lived up to her name. According to them, after we had departed from Runnymede and were going to Carmen’s Inn at the Merlin Hotel (now City Bayview), I was still talking about things to do with Virginia. I also happened to be floating on a cloud spun by a mix of chardonnays, semillons and shirazes, all earlier dispensed by the slender hand of the lovely Aussie sheila. Later in the night, I would soil the carpet of the Merlin lobby with my vomit, much to the embarrassment of my friends, but when it happened, I was hardly aware of it. The moments came to me in mere flashes, like a cinematic strobe. Ah, the wonderful exuberance of youth! Ah, that’s why I remember Adelaide Week 1975 so well!

But that’s just it, isn’t it? Exuberance is such a precious quality. Sometimes when you need it, it’s not there. I wonder if a resuscitated relationship between George Town and Adelaide might spark some latent exuberance. Over the years, that relationship seems to have waned, perhaps expectedly with time. Wouldn’t it be timely to give it new life?

That Adelaide Week dinner and its aftermath isn’t the end of my story. Almost exactly 20 years later, in 1995, I attended a literary conference at Flinders University in Adelaide. The renowned writer Shirley Lim, a Malaysian who had immigrated to the US and become a citizen there, was present. So were Malaysian writers Wong Phui Nam and the late Lloyd Fernando.

An invitation came one evening for all four of us to visit a restaurant in town called Don’s Table. It was from Donald Dunstan. He had heard that some Malaysians were in Adelaide attending the conference and asked if we would meet him. I could hardly believe it.

Dunstan was himself a good cook, and had even brought out in 1976 the first cookbook released by a serving Australian leader. He started Don’s Table with Stephen Cheng, who was not only the chef but also his partner… in more ways than one. Clearly, Dunstan’s preferred taste was still Asian, but I was surprised he had been inclined another way. Not that it took anything away from the man. Not for me, anyway.

We got out of our taxi and entered the restaurant, housed in an elegant old mansion. Waiting for us was our gracious host. I couldn’t compare him with the Dunstan of 20 years ago because at that time I didn’t even get to look at him. Now I was up close and personal, and that was all that mattered. Now I could see the real man, not just the myth. Now, 20 long years after the genesis of that whimsical wish, I got to shake Donald Dunstan’s hand.

I didn’t meet Virginia again but I got to shake Donald Dunstan’s hand.

Well, you can’t have everything, but I’d still say that nurturing relations between Penang and Adelaide can serve up wonders you’d never expect, apart from the spin-off benefits of trade promotion, business networking, cultural exchange, tourism enhancement, knowledge and technology sharing.

The celebrated author Tim Harcourt, who lives in London, came to know of Penang from reading news reports about Penang Week in Adelaide. In his book The Airport Economist (Allen & Unwin, 2008), he writes: “I had always wanted to visit Penang, one of Adelaide’s ‘sister cities’, since seeing newspaper photos of then South Australian Premier Don Dunstan driving Adele Koh, his Malaysia-born wife, in a pedal car during ‘Penang Week’ in Adelaide.” Just for Harcourt to have come and learned that the “pedal car” is actually called “trishaw” would surely have been worth it!

He also asks, “What are the reasons for the lack of Australian commercial interest in Malaysia?” He attributes them to Australia’s “rush to China” and the “occasionally frosty relations between the two nations, especially when … Dr Mahathir clashed with … Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating …” But Harcourt is hopeful about relations between the peoples of both countries because of the links forged through education (many Malaysians send their children to Australia for tertiary studies). He welcomes the building of stronger economic ties and a surge in economic activity.

I think cultural activity should also be enhanced. The Arts is one area where we can learn a lot from Adelaide. Once every two years, it organises the Adelaide Festival of Arts. I was there for the 1994 event and indulged in its delights. There was so much to see and to talk about. Begun in 1960, it has gone on to become an internationally renowned festival. Encouraged by its success, the South Australian state government has declared that from 2012, it will be held annually. Part of the festival is Adelaide Writers’ Week, which attracts famous authors from all over the world, from Nobel laureates to bestselling pulp novelists. That too has become an Australian institution.

One day, it would be wonderful to see a Penang Arts Festival and Penang Writers’ Meet attracting the attention of the world. That would be something. Of course, it’s just a wish for now. But then, you never know, wishes can come true. Even the improbable ones. Like getting to shake the hand of Donald Dunstan – 20 years later.