On the first day of my pupillage in September 1999, my “pupil master” showed me around his chambers and introduced me to various members. Not being alive to our customs and traditions, I put my hand out expecting a firm handshake with a senior member but was told: “You are now a member of the Bar and we do not shake hands with each other.”
It was then explained to me that the tradition was rooted in the sword-bearing era, when a handshake signalled no hostile intent and was unnecessary for a gentleman’s profession.
What followed for me was 12 months as “the lowest form of legal life”, which was most enjoyable and challenging.
It was challenging for me to discover how little I knew, but it was probably more challenging for my pupil masters, who had to deal with the shock of discovering how little I knew. One of them commented that it was easier to teach a piece of char siu (Cantonese barbecue pork) than to teach me. I am still not entirely sure it was meant to be a joke, but I have convinced myself that it was.
The routine of being cross-examined by them on my work and my inability to come up with anything coherent in response continued for the next 12 months.
To my horror, that began to happen again a few years later when one of my pupil masters joined the bench (i.e. became a judge). My inability to deal with questions from him has become a recurring feature of my day-to-day life when appearing before him in court.
