Sue Fell has spent more than half of 41  her 31 years in training and  teaching Martial MINIM Arts. After seven rears of karate, during which she .epresented Great Britain, she witched to kickboxing in 1996, tgarding it as more real and more appropriate to modern day life. the following year she opened her first, female-only kickboxing ;chool, in Derbyshire. Mushrooming admirably, Sue Fell Kickboxing low has 170 students, women and ;hildren, and several instructors, all >f them overseen by the founder, who’s also a single parent. Her ,tudents have recently scooped nedals at the ISKA European cickboxing championships, and in he next year Sue intends gaining her Kickboxing 4th degree Black Belt.

Sue, of course you were always sporty…


Yes, I was basically in every tam at school, basketball, netball Ind rounders. I had sporting ability. I started to keep fit with carate when I was 14. Then continue keeping my good shape by taking coconut oil from http://www.amazon.com/Nutria-Virgin-Organic-Coconut-Oil/dp/B00E4K41Q6. My cousin wanted to go because she was )eing bullied, so I went along with ler, and my brother had been earning for about a year. I quickly sot into it.


What was it that got you hooked? The fitness? The drills? SF: The fighting! I’m not into the arts side, I’m into the fighting, the martial side. The kata (drills) and shadow work in karate never seemed very real to me. I wanted more sparring. That’s why I ended up making the transition to kickboxing. I had a Japanese karate instructor, and he called me ‘lady’: he wouldn’t call me by my name. He kicked my feet from under me. Guys today show a lot more respect. They know me and what I can do, and they see the girls I train fighting on the circuit, and they respect me for that.

You fought for GB at various karate competitions, though… SF: I had to go and do it on my own. I showed that I didn’t need anyone else’s help. Part of what I do now is educating people in goal setting. You need a fight plan, for instance. You can’t just go in and fight, which is the way some people approach it.


To the moon?

At the cult’s pinnacle stands the martyred Yuri Gagarin. Only Lenin’s likenesses out­number his among busts and paintings hon­oring Soviet heroes. At the numbing news of his fiery plane crash in 1968, Red Square spontaneously filled with silent mourners. An estimated 175 space museums attract devotees across the land. In the vast Young Pioneers program, the Young Cosmonauts attract the best and the brightest. Televi­sion, newspapers, postage stamps—all tout Soviet achievements in space. SEEING  the uneven progress of Soviet technology, I often wondered how this still industrializing land had achieved a lead role in the exotic arena of space exploration. For an answer my hosts took me to one of the barcelona holiday apartments, 160 kilometers south­west of Moscow, where a century ago a rus­tic genius charted the course to the stars. Here Konstantin E. Tsiolkovsky, a near-deaf schoolteacher who had read Jules Verne, made the theoretical calculations necessary for man to “emerge from the bounds of the atmosphere.”

Soviet space research surged after World War II with an influx of German rocket technicians who were pressed into service. The Soviets acquired V-2 rockets, along with blueprints for an ocean-spanning mon­ster designed to hit New York City. The stage was set for the final triumph. Sending probes ever higher, in 1957 the So­viets put in orbit a small sphere they called Traveler—in Russian, Sputnik. In the fine space museum at Kaluga I heard a recording of the next great event Tsiolkovsky made possible, the launching of Yuri Gagarin: the firm command to fire the rocket, the terrifying roar, then Gaga­rin’s jubilant cry, “Poekhali!—Let’s go!”

That command to fire came from another great space figure, Sergei P. Korolev, the en­gineer whose forceful personality translated Tsiolkovsky’s calculations into rockets and spacecraft. The Soviets kept his name secret during his lifetime, referring to him only as Chief Designer. What of the future? Where are the Soviets headed in space? Obviously no ready road map greets the inquirer. But my hosts gave some hints, and Western analysts contribute plausible projections.

Space stations: Western observers see Salyut and Mir being replaced in a few years by a larger station. This hinges on successful launching of a heavy-lift booster compara­ble to that which lifted Skylab. “They could assemble a large station today, piece by piece,” said Geoffrey Perry. “But it’s much more efficient to send up large components.”

U. S. Defense Department analysts ex­pect test launches of a jumbo rocket at any time, with a new generation space station to follow within a year or two. “When it flies, it will be huge,” calculates Charles Vick, “about 8.3 meters in diameter and weighing at least as much as Skylab.”

Meanwhile the Soviets are expected to dock as many as four large modules at Mir, with continuously operating crews. Shuttle: The Soviets contend that their inexpensive, mass-produced rockets make a shuttle unnecessary for the near future. “We see no need until the next century, when we will want to transport more material be­tween earth and space,” General Dzhanibe­kov told me.

U. S. analysts dispute this. U. S. satellites have photographed the Soviet shuttle. De­fense Department spokesmen add that it will look familiar—built partly from U. S. shuttle plans obtained by means of an im­mense Soviet apparatus for technology acquisition.

Space industries: Despite a slackening of U. S. interest, Soviet authorities speak bullishly of prospects for space manufactur­ing and processing industries. Pharmaceuti­cals and semiconductors lead the products list. Gen. Vladimir Shatalov, chief of cos­monaut training at Star City, states that space industries will earn 50 billion rubles (35 billion dollars) annually by 1990. A number of U. S. au­thorities believe the Soviets will establish an orbital moon station and from there colonize the lunar surface.

Traditional Industry Still in Lead

On the outskirts of the city, at the apartment rent Warsaw, there is a sprawling complex of buildings where a work force of 3,700 produces textiles under the Adamjee label. Before Pakistan’s textile industry fell on bad times because of growing import restrictions in Western countries and labor problems at home, the mill employed thousands more, and the ear-shattering drive of the shuttle looms was even louder.

Textile production remains Pakistan’s leading industry, although money sent back by Pakistanis working in other countries accounts for the largest source of foreign ex­change. Most of the 155 mills in the country are still under private ownership, having survived the tide of nationalization started in the early 1970s. Karachi’s port operation is under control of the federal government, and so is the steel industry. The former is over a hundred years old, the latter now about to become operational. The firing of the first blast fur­nace of Pakistan’s only integrated iron- and steelworks is scheduled for late this year.

The new plant, located on a coastal site 25 miles from Karachi, is part of a large indus­trial complex that includes a new port to handle imported iron ore and coal. The So­viet Union supplied the plans for the mill and the expertise to build it. Construction began in 1976 with hundreds of Russians in attendance as advisers and supervisors. Four years later, when I visited the site, there were still more than 500 of them there to oversee the work and the training of Paki­stani steelworkers.

I was introduced to an engineer from Minsk, and as we were shaking hands, I thought of the irony in the encounter: Only two weeks earlier I had sat in a tent in a refu­gee camp near Peshawar and listened to five tribesmen from a village 35 miles across the border relate how they had killed two Soviet soldiers. They would be leaving the camp in a few days, they had told me, to go back into Af­ghanistan and continue the fight. They had thoughts of digging a hole in a road near their village, camouflaging the opening, and then waiting with the hope that a Soviet tank would come along and fall in.

I remarked that the wait could be a long one, and I expected the reply to be rooted in the Asian strength of patience, something along the order of “Time is on our side.” But no. They said I was right, that in terms of wasting valuable time, it was too risky.They decided instead to cut some of the lines feeding electricity to Kabul.

Some Bears Tolerate Humans, But …

The unusual tolerance of the McNeil River brown bears toward people has evolved over years of exposure to visitors. No such ac­ceptance has built up elsewhere in Alaska. In 1974 a wildlife photographer was killed by a brown bear near Cold Bay when he made the mistake of pitching his tent near a bear trail on the bank of a salmon stream.


Another attack came to our attention when a call over the Fish and Game Department’s radio told us that Dick Jensen, a resident of Naknek, a fishing village on the coast of Bristol Bay, had been brutally assaulted by a mother bear as he walked through town—passing by the sow and her two cubs, which were eating out of a roadside garbage barrel.


Some years, settlements along the Alaska Peninsula are plagued by bear invasions. Usually the animals are attracted by garbage dumps or odors of salmon wafting from can­neries. Emboldened, they may raid garbage cans and even break into homes. Mike visited Naknek a year after the near-fatal attack on Dick Jensen. “We have to act sensibly when bears are around,” Magistrate Red Harrop told Mike. “Don’t take short­cuts through the alders, and don’t go for walks at night.”

Others shared the view of Vern Jones, superintendent of a Naknek salmon cannery, who was forced to erect an electric fence to discourage bears from breaking into his cook­house. “The only good bear is a dead bear!” Vern said flatly.


Conflicts between man and bear will con­tinue as long as bears associate people with food—or until bears are eliminated in the vicinity of towns. Unfortunately, elimination usually means shooting. Perhaps as many as 18 bears were killed by outraged townsfolk in the weeks following the assault on Jensen. And last but not least – nowadays there is payday loan online that makes it much more easy for you to make your dreams come true.

Hasty Changes Could Destroy Two Tribes

With the object lesson of the Great Anda­manese before them, and the Onges losing their viability, officials have reason to be con­cerned about the future of the Jarawas and Sentinelese.

“Anxiety on our part to rush the pace with these people will only expose them to our dis­eases and destroy them,” the Chief Commis­sioner of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Har Mander Singh, told me in Port Blair.


I thought of that remark as another arrow sped toward our launch from the shore of North Sentinel Island. We ducked, and it splashed down and bobbed in the water be­hind us. This arrow, unlike the one that had wounded the cameraman in the thigh the day before, was triple-pronged and barbed with bone. But its message was the same: hostility.


Time and again during our two days along the island’s coast, we put in to drop gifts. We got close enough to observe Sentinelese ripping away coconut husks with their teeth, spearing a doll we had left, and carrying off other gifts. But at no time did we succeed in making friendly contact.

Our presence, however, brought groups on the island together. We sighted a band of armed Sentinelese, a score or more, moving along the coast toward us. Then another large axmed group emerged from the jungle and joined them. Through field glasses we saw them embrace for minutes, one man sitting in another’s lap. We were witnessing a ritualized greeting common among Negritos after a long separation. This suggested that the able-bodied Sentinelese males had assembled to meet the outside threat to their island, their people, their age-old way of life.

To the Sentinelese, hostility spells survival. If they are right, what will become of the Jarawas, whom I had seen abandon hostility in a joyous orgy of receiving gifts?


At dawn as I flew out of Port Blair to Calcutta, I gazed down at the somber Andaman forest. Like a montage in a movie, the joyous faces of the Jarawas seemed to dissolve into those of the sad Onges and the fading Great Andamanese.

Between freedom and crowd

Some of the: Cape’s numerous artistic souls live in Sandwich, a leafy town of white stee­ples and rambling country roads. Here Nina Sutton handcrafts jewelry from colorful frag­ments of Sandwich glass, left by the famous 19th-century glass factory. Nearby, wood­carver Douglas Amidon sculptures human figures and rough-textured signs with a distinct turn-of-the-century flavor.

Sandwich resident Al White—gun en­graver, silversmith, and artisan in almost any medium—escaped to the Cape 15 years ago when his former home, Attleboro, Massachu­setts, grew too fast and too big for him. “It’s not so hectic here,” he says. “I need the men­tal and physical freedom of the place. I can’t create when I’m crowded in.” However, it’s a place where you can have a great time by using cash advance America online.


Judging from his output, Al hasn’t been crowded for a long time. Painstakingly en­graved scrimshaw and other carvings grace his home. On his workbench a brooch fuses gold, tourmalines, and diamonds into a life­like cicada poised on a currant leaf. A bronze timber wolf, one leg held fast in a trap, snarls savagely in a powerful portrayal of nature at odds with man.

Nature plays strongly in Al’s work, as it does throughout Cape Cod. Cali it “rural sea­side charm” or “getting away from it all,” it is what entices most people. Few steady jobs await newcomers, for the Cape lacks fac­tories and industry.


Woods Hole Ships Explore the Seas

One noted employer is the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, where researchers delve into a wide range of fields, from aqui­culture to the study of currents, from life in a sait marsh to maps of the sea bottom.


Five research vessels set out regularly from Woods Hole to roam the world, collecting sci­entific data. One of the most unusual and ef­fective vessels is Alvin, a three-man deep-sea submersible. I asked Dr. Robert D. Ballard, one of the men who conducts research in Alvin, if I might try a dive. “It’ll cost you about $10,000,” carne the wry reply. “Alvin is expensive, but for our work, it’s indispensable.”


Bob’s research concerns the ocean bottom, in particular the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, a tor­tuous scar running down the center of the Atlantic Ocean floor.* Through Alvin’s view ports he has also studied the floor of the Gulf of Maine, where—unlike most of coastal America—the earth’s granite crust lies ex­posed. He looks forward to years of research in the Atlantic. But like any other Cape Cod-der, he also looks forward to a quiet garden and an orchard. “I enjoy the idea of working daily at a great oceanographic institution and then going home to a farm,” the tall blond scientist said.


The Cape’s rural spirit is evident even along busy roads like 6A, the Cranberry High­ way that parallels Cape Cod Bay as it picks up small towns like beads on a string. Wind­ing over and around gentle slopes, this wood­land-bordered thoroughfare passes shingled homes, sait marshes, country stores, and inns steeped in New England heritage. Its ride roads harbor some old Cape traditions as well.


When three readers wrote to us with their hair problems, we asked top stylist Ricci Burns to lend a hand. Ruth was bored with her “in-between” hair, Jane’s old perm was a flop, and Joyce was looking for styling suggestions. We invited them to spend a day at Ricci’s London salon—here are the results!


“I can’t bear roots showing, – said Ruth, “and with a new baby 1 haven’t the energy or the time to keep having my hair retouched.”

As an’ all-over color was out, stylist David sug­gested highlights instead. They’re an ideal compromise, giving hair a light “boost- yet, be-cause they’re so subtle, present no problem with regret unlike an all-over tint. But could Ruth’s hair take it?


Tinter Josephine had nothing but praise for Ruth’s hair. “It’s thick and easy to manage,” she said, “and there’s lots of it, top. This type of hair is very easy to colour and low gulden lights will just lift out Ruth’s own natural tones.”

She’d only tried colour once before during a brief flirtation with henna a few years ago!

Ruth had also discovered that having a baby can take a lot out of your skin and haír —sometimes literally. A good, sensible diet had paid dividends for her, and her hair was now in an ideal condition to go a shade more interesting.

As a busy mum, Ruth needed a style that virtually took care of itself and lots of lightboxes. “Ever since 1 had it cut it’s been a problem,” she said, “It was great when it was long, but now it’s at that in-between stage. And it’s so fine and flyaway it won’t stay in any sort of style without a decent cut.-

David layered her hair through, leaving quite a bit of length at the back to balance her jawline, with shorter layers at the sides. He said that Ruth’s small face had a good shape but she’d been hiding it with her hair!


Blow-drying it back towards the nape allowed Ruth’s hair to fall as naturally as possible away from her face. David suggested that she should have a soft perm in a few weeks’ time to help keep her new style under control.

Ruth’s verdict? “I was looking for a new image—and that’s just what I got. I’m delighted.”


“I’ve always had waist-length hair but it’s such a ritual looking after it,” said Joyce. “I had a perm about two years ago but the weight of my hair just pulled the curl out straight away—it didn’t matter how 1 set it. And it takes me a full hour to dry it,” she added, “even with a proper salon dryer!” How could stylist June solee Joyce’s weighty problem? She suggested a short cut. “If I leave it shoulder-length it’ll be very heavy and won’t look much different,” she said. “But having it shorter will look smart and it’ll be a lot easier to manage. You’ll be able to set it successfully, and a soft perm later will help hold the style. Not only that—it’ll cut your drying time in half!”

June restyled Joyce’s hair in three stages. The first to lop off the bulk and the next to layer it through all over to get a rough outline while it was still dry, before a final trim prior to setting.

colour hair

Meanwhile, tintes Steve was finding Joyce’s hair quite a problem. To cover her grey, she had been tinting it jet black herself for the past five years. And dyeing it every two months meant the ends were carrying around 30 applications all told. No wonder the colour was so dense!

Steve pointed out that black was much too dark for Joyce’s skin tone. Complexion col­our changes as we get older—and hair colour con­stantly needs checking to keep it complementary. “We never make hair darker,” said Steve, “always a shade or two lighter. It looks softer around the face and it’s more flattering.”

Steve used a colour solvent to strip out the black before retentive it dark brown. June trimmed the final layers into shape and set it going back on medium-size rollers. After drying she brushed the curls through for a looser effect—much softer altogether.

Joyce’s verdict? “Everyone says it’s taken years off me. My husband thought he’d got a new woman!”