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MRS CHEN, who does some housework for us, roared with laughter when she learned that, at seventy, after fifty years of living here as a foreigner (New Zealand division), I was about to become a naturalised Australian. It was hard to tell, for the rest of the morning, if it was she or the vacuum cleaner roaring away upstairs.
I suppose my transfer of allegiance is an unglamorous event compared with hijacking a MiG and flying to freedom across the Straits of Formosa or darting through the Brandenburg Gate in a hail of bullets or striving for the West Australian shore in a sinking hulk. However, embracing and seeking the embrace of a country other than the one in ...