Call of the White by Felicity Aston Page A

me the use of her offices to interview the Bruneian applicants. As we drove, we talked about her life in Brunei. ‘It has been a happy place to bring up children but the best thing about living here is having an ama ,’ she said. An ama is a cross between a maid and a nanny who helps with the housework and looks after children. Karen sighed; in just a few weeks she was returning to the UK after 20 years in Brunei. ‘Without an ama , I’m going to have to learn how to iron again.’
    The charity’s offices were bright and airy, lined with shelves of children’s books and educational toys, the walls crowded with drawings and posters of dancing cartoon words. I was introduced to the receptionist, Siti, who was so excited about the expedition interviews that she had obviously gone to a lot of effort to prepare for the day. She had stuck a large poster on a board outside the office that read, ‘Volunteer Women’s Commonwealth Arctic Expedition interviews’ and methodically asked me questions about each of the candidates that would be coming along. I’d had more than fifty applications from Brunei and the shortlist included an interpreter, a sports reporter, a midwife and a businesswoman – but my first interview was with a Bruneian celebrity. Norhayati had just been named ‘Brunei’s First Lady Explorer’ in a ceremony a few weeks before as a result of a ten-month overland journey she’d made from Africa to Brunei with her husband. Her trip had been broadcast on Bruneian TV and written about in the newspapers. When I first contacted the Bruneian authorities about my expedition, they had immediately put Norhayati forward as a candidate with a heavy hint that she should be my choice. I was keen to interview Norhayati but her fame didn’t work in her favour. I wanted to prove that anybody could achieve their dreams – Norhayati had already achieved hers. She arrived wearing a long Malay-style dress but with her head uncovered. It was clear from the outset that she had not come to be interviewed; she had come to tell me about her experiences. I knew almost immediately that she was unsuitable for the team but enjoyed meeting her all the same. She had overcome many prejudices, on grounds of gender and religion, to be a jungle guide. ‘Many people turn up to go on my trips, particularly the men, and assume that I am helping them prepare for the trip but that their guide will be a man,’ she told me. ‘It is only when we set off with packs on our backs that they realise I am the guide, the only guide. That’s when they get worried and start asking questions. After a few days, when they are exhausted and I am still strong, they accept that I am the guide.’
    By mid afternoon I was anxious that I still hadn’t met any realistic potential team members but then Aniza arrived, a softly spoken air hostess with large almond-shaped eyes and a dazzling smile. She eloquently described her wish to be part of something that could present Brunei positively as a nation, to show other Bruneians that they need to engage in international matters and to generate greater national pride. Her views were so considered that I was surprised when she revealed that she was only 19 years old. I had been doubtful whether someone so young would be able to carry the burden of returning home as a role model but Aniza’s quiet confidence was reassuring. ‘How would you convince me that you have the mental toughness required to get you to the South Pole?’ I asked. Aniza didn’t hesitate with her reply. ‘I would tell you about my pet gibbon.’ She pulled up the sleeves of her top to show me her forearms, which were criss-crossed with long scars. ‘Every morning I have to feed him and every morning he scratches me. But I don’t give up.’ We both laughed, but it was a persuasive answer.
    Shortly after my interview with Aniza, I met Era. I