Should cannabis be legalised in Australia? Your response should provide a considered discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of both legalisation and criminalisation which shows evidence of wide and varied reading.
Above is the essay question that I chose to address for an essay in ANTH106-Drugs Across Cultures. 40% of my grade, baby. After looking over the question again, I’m a bit nervous. I kinda focused more on why it should be legalised and decriminalised, not so much about the disadvantages. And I only used one of the sources that was recommended, with the others being other sources. Whatever. I’m pretty proud of it. This also isn’t what I turned in. The requirement was no more than 1500 words, and by the end of the rough draft I had nearly 2500. This is the real paper. Take a read if you have the time…
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Cannabis-Is its Illicit Status Appropriate?
Throughout history cannabis has consistently accompanied humanity. Ancient cultures used hemp to make clothing around 7000 years ago, and recently marijuana was discovered in a 2,700-year old tomb in the Gobi Desert (Viegas 2008). Cannabis was also ‘mentioned in ancient and religious Chinese and Indian texts’ (Cohen 2009). It is curious, then, that cannabis, more commonly known as marijuana, is illegal, and in most places a criminal offense. The question has been repeatedly asked over this decade-Is it valid for marijuana to be illegal?-and it is just beginning to be answered. It is time for marijuana to once again be legal and culturally accepted, as this would cut down on cannabis abuse, legitimize education on marijuana, and cease the marginalization of medical marijuana users, among other things.
When looking at the basic statistics of marijuana use, it would surprise even the most devout anti-drug proponent that an illegal substance is used so abundantly. In Europe, ‘5% of the total population are regular users in some countries’ (Iversen 2004), and in Britain ‘half of all young people have tried it (marijuana) at least once’ (Iversen 2004). According to a study by the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, one in four young people ‘had used marijuana/cannabis in the previous 12 months’ (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2004).
A common argument for marijuana legalisation is the comparison of cigarettes and alcohol to marijuana. According to the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, ‘In 1998, around 19,000 deaths were attributable to the use of tobacco, accounting for 80% of all drug- or alcohol-related deaths,’ alcohol caused ‘2000 deaths among persons aged 0-64 years’, and ‘illicit drug use is associated with around 1,000 deaths per year in Australia’ (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2004). Marijuana falls in the ‘illicit drug’ category, but it is important to note that much more dangerous drugs such as heroin, methamphetamines and cocaine join it.
Proponents of keeping marijuana illegal may argue that smoking marijuana is more harmful to the body than cigarettes, ‘but to expose the lungs to the same amount of tar as an average 15–20 a day cigarette smoker, cannabis users would have to smoke 4–5 times a day every day of the week’ (Iversen 2004). Also, the majority of cannabis smokers quit when they enter their thirties, while cigarette-smokers do not (Iversen 2004).
Many governments have created panels and task-forces to investigate the true effects of marijuana. In 2000, an independent look at the British drug laws by the UK Police Foundation yielded this statement:
When cannabis is systematically compared with other drugs against the main criteria of harm (mortality, morbidity, toxicity, addictiveness and relation to crime), it is less harmful to the individual and society than any of the other illicit drugs or than alcohol or tobacco (cited in Iversen 2004).
The United States and countries such as France and Sweden have disagreed with this idea and believe that the best way to stop illicit drug use is to highly criminalize the ‘gateway’ to harder drugs. This method assumes that marijuana is a ‘gateway drug’ and that eliminating it would eliminate the graduation to harder drugs. This method seems to be failing, however, with United States ‘marijuana …arrests nearly doubl(ing) to 642,000 in 1996, from 1992’ (Flynn 1998).
The Dutch, on the other hand, have chosen the opposite route by legalizing marijuana. Their thinking is that if one legalizes a drug such as marijuana and makes a clear distinction between it and harder drugs, such as cocaine and heroin, the progression from marijuana to harder drugs will be halted (Iversen 2004). And it looks like it has worked. Heroin as well as cannabis use has decreased in the Netherlands, which is lower than many regions in the United States (Iversen 2004). More interestingly, ‘a …comparison of groups of cannabis users in Amsterdam and in San Francisco’ shows the differences in results of both the American method and Dutch method (Iversen 2004). ‘Whereas both groups of cannabis users consumed similar amounts of cannabis, and started at about the same age, the group in San Francisco experienced a significantly higher lifetime incidence of using other illegal drugs – cocaine, opiates and amphetamines-’ than those in Amsterdam (Iversen 2004). It is in these findings that the criminalization of marijuana is shown to be counteractive in its intent. If this strategy was employed in Australia, it is almost certain that its trends would follow that of the Netherlands and reduce the consumption of both cannabis and harder drugs.
One of the positive aspects of marijuana is its proven medical value. Cannabis has been shown to possess ‘effectiveness in controlling nausea and relieving symptoms of glaucoma, epilepsy and multiple sclerosis,’ (Gray 1998) as well as an appetite stimulant. Many stories of medical marijuana users are similar to that of Jean Charles Pariseau, whose profile was published in the Canadian Medical Association Journal issue of February 10, 1998. Pariseau is an AIDS patient who requires an upwards of thirty pills a day. At his worst he was about 37 kilos, and had to ‘fight nausea and stimulate his appetite, but could not keep (his pills) down. He was bedridden and miserable. His physician… gave him less than 3 months to live’ (Gray 1998).
Pariseau had the option of taking marijuana in its pill form, (which is legal in Canada), but could not swallow the pill. He resorted to going the illegal route of smoking marijuana, and it saved his life. He smokes half an hour before he is to take his pills, and this has helped him to keep the pills down. ‘“Jean has a decent prognosis today,” reports Kilby, a family physician with an extensive palliative care practice who also serves as director of health services at his alma mater, the University of Ottawa. “He can now digest his medications. He has regained weight, recovered his appetite and can join his wife and child at the dinner table”’ (Gray 1998).
In this case marijuana greatly increased the quality of this man’s life, and possibly saved his life; however he is still at risk of purchasing cannabis with impurities, or being charged for being in possession of an illegal substance, the later which has occurred (Gray 1998). If marijuana were legalized at the very least for medicinal use, this would ensure that patients received proper, safe marijuana, in proper and safe conditions, and they wouldn’t be in danger of being arrested.
There are downsides to marijuana consumption, however. According to the New South Wales Government’s “Marijuana Factsheet”, marijuana may ‘make you see or hear things which are not there’ and ‘feel distant or separate from reality’ (New South Wales Health 2006). Long term effects listed include ‘an increase in the risk of getting bronchitis, lung cancer and other diseases of the respiratory system, a decrease in motivation, decrease in concentration, memory, and ability to learn new things, (and) a decrease in sex drive’ (New South Wales Health 2006). These are all obviously negative side-effects and causes of marijuana, and these side-effects should be known.
Marijuana should be legalized in Australia for those over 18 and regulated, with the same health warnings being applied to the packaging of the cannabis substance as is done for cigarettes. It should be taxed, with the money going to educate people on the above-mentioned risks of marijuana consumption and to run treatment centres for those who abuse the substance. Regulation would make certain that the cannabis sold was safe, as currently there are ‘no limits on concentration, additives, or even the presence of pesticides’ (Inciardi 1999).
To many societies, and possibly Australia, legalization may be too extreme a measure. It is in these situations where marijuana should be decriminalized, with only a fine as punishment for possession. In the United States ‘there are more marijuana arrests annually than arrests for all violent crimes combined’ (Dubner 2007). Dr. Lester Grinspoon, associate professor of psychiatry at the Harvard Medical School and the author of Marijuana, the Forbidden Medicine and the groundbreaking Marihuana Reconsidered, provides illuminating insight to this statistic in stating, “While marijuana is, in fact, remarkably free of toxicity, the consequences of annually arresting 300,000 mostly young people were not” (cited in Dubner 2007).
This paper only covers marijuana, but the government of Portugal went so far as to ‘decriminalize the possession and use of all psychotropic drugs’ (Duke 2009) which include cocaine and LSD. The Cato Institute, a think-tank in Washington, DC, has published a study which concludes that ‘”judged by virtually every metric,” the Portuguese decriminalization “has been a resounding success”’ (cited in Duke 2009). In this instance, ‘decriminalization has both freed up funds for drug treatment and, by lifting the threat of criminal charges, encouraged drug abusers to seek that treatment’ (Duke 2009).
Arresting people for the possession of marijuana is counteractive. ‘The impact of criminalizing otherwise law-abiding, mainly young, citizens, the detrimental impact on their future lives and careers and damage to the relationship between police and communities also need to be taken into account’ (Iversen 2004). With marijuana possession being a criminal offense, those who use marijuana may feel as though the government is out of touch, and therefore may not pay attention to its warnings. If marijuana were decriminalized, or even better legalized, it would give the government taxation leverage and the ability to be a credible expert on the subject.
This paper does not advocate for the decriminalization or legalization of all drugs, but there does seem to be evidence that legalization and education as opposed to criminalization and punishment is a more successful way to help society understand and more responsibly handle drugs such as marijuana. Removing the stigma of cannabis would bring credibility back to the government on topics such as the dangers of marijuana, and tax dollars from marijuana sales would go towards education of marijuana consumption and the treatment of marijuana abuse. Those suffering from medical conditions where marijuana is the best solution for their ailments would cease to be ostracized.
Free will has always been an ultimate goal of humanity, and to award it in this situation would allow individuals to make appropriate decisions for themselves in their own interests. If marijuana was brought from the shadows to the light and its use treated as a reality and another normal function of humanity, there is no doubt much angst and suffering would be averted.
References
Australian Institute of Health and Welfare. 2004. http://www.aihw.gov.au/publications/phe/sdua04/sdua04-c01.pdf. (8 May 2009)
Cohen, P. 2009. ANTH 106:Cannabis Background. Macquarie University. Powerpoint Presentation.
Dubner, S. 2007. On the Legalization-or Not-of Marijuana. http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/10/30/on-the-legalization-or-not-of-marijuana/?scp=1&sq=marijuana%20legalization&st=cse. (8 May 2009).
Duke, S. 2009. Drugs. To Legalize or Not. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124061360462654683.html. (8 May 2009).
Flynn, K. 1998. Arrests Soar in Crackdown on Marijuana. http://www.nytimes.com/1998/11/17/nyregion/arrests-soar-in-crackdown-on-marijuana.html?scp=4&sq=marijuana%20arrests%20statistics&st=cse. (8 May 2009).
Gray, C. 1998. ‘Legalize use of marijuana for medical purposes, MDs and patients plead’. Canadian Medical Association Journal 158:373-375.
Inciardi, J. 1999. ‘The Marijuana legalization debate: Is there a middle ground?’ The Drug Legalization Debate 75-100.
Iversen, L. 2004.‘Cannabis and the Law-high time for reform?’ European Review 4:513-525.
New South Wales Health. 2006. Marijuana Factsheet. http://www.health.nsw.gov.au/public-health/dpb/publications/pdf/factsheets/marijuana.pdf. (8 May 2009)
Viegas, J. 2008. World’s Oldest Marijuana Stash Totally Busted. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28034925/. (8 May 2009).
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I would love to hear your thoughts on this issue, as well as on my paper. Drop me a comment, let’s start a discussion!
I’m in the process of writing a paper on marijuana legalisation, and I felt that this would be the perfect time to post the lyrics to one of my favorite songs at the moment. It’s a song called ‘Painting’ by Atmosphere, and it has to do with alcohol. Check it out, he’s an amazing lyricist.
Ain’t no colour paint gonna cover the stains
The pictures on the wall will all remain
And even though he’s home now sound and safe
Surrounded by the faces that he place his faith
The images visit from the past he witnessed
Can’t stay away from the memories
sticks with each detail embedded in stone
like he chiseled stoves convictions into his bones
the progress stops and pauses spits and sputters
like the basement faucets
and it’s obvious he’s lost in his regrets,
you can smell it on his breath
Ain’t no colour paint gonna cover the stains
but now the alcohol is gonna mother the pain
Tuck it away, no complaints just laying on his back on his
backyard under the rain
Take tomorrow but doesn’t no how though for every swallow there’s another to follow
He weaves his way throughout the story
looking for a new missing piece or a door key
Spirits used to be for celebration
But now they just take him away from the hell that’s waiting
Re-up until it’s three sheets up
and pick a place for the skeletons to meet up
Ain’t no colour paint gonna cover the stains
But if the oxygen escapes it’ll smother the flames
No introduction doesn’t speak his own name
Gonna beat them demons at they own game
The sunset rides to the end slow
Same song echoing outside of the window
You can’t grow if the skin don’t fit you
Sometimes you gotta get low just to get through
No inspiration left to do your best when,
nobody hates you more than you’re reflection
Suffer the shame until it stuffs the drain
He’s got two hands and a bucket of paint, come on
2.14.11-UPDATE–For more of my writing, visit SaintProse.com.
I finished this essay at around 2am last night after an AWESOME night of dancing in Greenwood, North Sydney. I’m not as proud of it as I am of most of my essays, as I kinda just threw it together, but it still might be interesting for those of you who don’t know about or are interested in the Aborigines…
Caring for Country
Aboriginal Australians are a unique people. For tens of thousands of years they have inhabited some of the most unforgiving terrain in the world. Extremely hot and dry deserts, poisonous and dangerous animals all are characteristics of their environment. It is due to these realities that the Aboriginal people had to adapt to their land and nearly become one with it. Caring for their environment and their knowledge of it became their specialty, livelihood and survival. It is because of this that the Australian Aborigines are some of the most knowledgeable people on the topics of caring for country, nature habitat and basic happenings of their environment.
To fully understand this topic it is first important to define what the Aborigines mean when they refer to ‘country’. To the Aborigines, country is a living thing more similar to a person than a location of inhabitance. Aborigines ‘talk about country in the same way that they would talk about person: they speak to country, sing to country, visit country, worry about country, feel sorry for country, and long for country’ (Rose 1996, p. 7). It is an entity to be cared for, looked after, and maintained. It has the ability to die, as well as to flourish and provide for those who rely upon it. In other words, ‘country is home, and peace; nourishment for the body, mind and spirit; heart’s ease’ (Rose 1996, p. 7).
Due to their intense bond with their environment Aboriginal religion and spirituality deals heavily with country. Their creation story, known as Dreamtime or the Dreaming, has many different versions due to the many different tribes, but all are characterised by elements of ‘country’. For instance, ‘the Aranda people of Central Australia believe that sometime in the distant past, sleeping superhuman beings, who were at the one time human and animal, spontaneously broke through the surface of a lifeless and cold earth.’ These ‘superhuman beings’ created guidelines for human behavior, among other things, and when finished, ‘returned to the rocks, trees and waterholes or to the sky’ (Broome 2002, p. 9).
Earth and country is the genesis and starting block of the Aboriginal creation story. It is because of this that most all of the Australian country is sacred to an Aboriginal tribe in some way. The country is their temple, their church, and they have spent the thousands of years they have occupied the land learning about and caring for it. There are many places where there are strict limitations and restrictions on certain activities to allow for the flourishing of flora and fauna. James Kohen, author of Aboriginal Environmental Impacts writes, ‘In many areas the sacred site is protected. No hunting, fishing, gathering or burning can take place within prescribed boundaries. Often the site is a nesting or breeding place. Dreaming sites thus function as refuges’ (Kohen 1995, p. 49).
For the Aborigines to survive they had to become extremely knowledgeable with their surroundings and interactions with animals. They came to learn where animals bred, when certain plants came to fruit, as well as very specific details about organisms that were essential to their survival. In one example, ‘during severe droughts the Bindibu people could find and catch frogs which stored water in their bodies from deep beneath the ground’ (Broome 2002, p. 14). Even in the most unforgiving circumstances the Aboriginal’s deep and vast knowledge kept them alive and well.
When the first settlers arrived in Australia they felt the Aborigines didn’t manage or take care of their land. They couldn’t have been further from the truth. According to Deborah Rose, ‘management of the life of the country constitutes one of Aboriginal people’s strongest and deepest purposes in life’ (Rose 1996, p. 10). As was stated before, the management and caretaking of the country is important to the Aborigines because it is their temple, but it was also their survival. Without their environment functioning in a way they understood their existence was doomed.
Deborah Rose continues, going on to write that ‘skilled and detailed use of fire, (along with others), were responsible for the long-term productivity and biodiversity of this continent. In addition to fire, other practices include selective harvesting, the extensive organization of sanctuaries, and the promotion of regeneration of plants and animals’ (Rose 1996, p. 10).
For thousands of years before the British arrived the Aborigines had employed a somewhat sophisticated method of management in the form of fires. They would burn areas of their land in order to stimulate the growth and reproduction of plants and animals and remove underbrush that would aid in possible unwanted fires. Also, burning was essential for many trees and plants because they ‘required fire, either in order to flower, or for their seeds to germinate’ (Rose 1996, p. 50).The burning also formed environments that were more suitable for kangaroo and large wallabies, who made up a large portion of the Aboriginal diet (Kohen 1995, p. 40).Physically, the burning “replac(e) mature forests with open woodlands and grasslands” (Kohen 1995, p. 49). The Aborigines, it seems, were very intensely in tune with their environment and knew how to tweak it to produce the best circumstances for their survival.
Although the Aborigines were gifted and cunning hunters, they were smart in that they knew that if they over-hunted their food source would be depleted. ‘Where there were deep valleys, running water and much timber, the natives invariably set aside some parts to remain as breeding-places or animal sanctuaries’ (Rose 1996, p. 50). Quite contrary to Western belief at the time, the Aborigines had in place strict conservation rules and practices that rivaled the sophistication of anything practiced in the Western world.
Aboriginal relations with their land has not changed over all these years, but it has become more difficult, and in some instances impossible, for them to manage their land as they had for tens of thousands of years. When the British came to settle Australia they interpreted the Aborigines’ nomadic lifestyle as not occupying or developing the land, and seized it from them. An Aboriginal elder is quoted as saying, “Sacred place, all over our Aboriginal land was sacred, but we see now they have made a map and cut it up into six states” (Kohen 1995, p. 35).
Another elder went to say, “White people just came up blind, bumping into everything. And put the flag; put the flag” (Rose 1996, p. 18). The settlers came to annex land that was occupied previously for tens of thousands of years, and did it with little-to-no thought of the Aborigines or their connections to their land and country. In 1835 legislation was declared saying that “the land belonged to no-one prior to the British crown taking possession” (Australian Government n.d.). It was at this moment that the ability of the Aborigines to manage their land was forbidden.Some of the ‘settlers’ first acts were to clear the land to ready it for development. The careful balance that the Aborigines had struck with the ecology of the land came tumbling down. ‘Once European settlement began in the Sydney area, the impact on the flora and fauna was almost immediate. Clearing of the land resulted in the loss of habitat for a wide range of animals, and they became locally rare’ (Kohen 1995, p. 107). Instead of creating sanctuaries and protecting the breeding grounds of these animals, the settlers ruined their habitats, and in turn depleted their food source.
The contrast between the Aborigines and the British impact on the land is summed up concisely and emotionally by Dame Mary Gilmore, the ‘daughter of one of the early Wagga Wagga settlers (Kohen 1995, p. 35). “…When I asked my father why we could not get fish as formerly, he said, ‘When the blacks went, the fish went;’ meaning that the habit of preserving the wild was destitute in the ordinary white settler” (Kohen 1995, p. 50).
At the root of the land management conflict and the changing of relations between the Aboriginals and non-Aboriginals in relation to country are the basic views towards the land and country that the Aborigines and British held. As was previously outlined, the Aborigines felt that the land was a living thing and that they were from and of the land. It is ‘a place that gives and receives life. Not just imagined or represented, it is lived with’ (Rose 1996, p. 7). They also felt that ‘those who destroy their country ultimately destroy themselves’ (Rose 1996, p. 10).
In relation to ownership, the Aborigines believe that ‘individual members of complementary skin groups have rights and responsibilities over specific Dreaming tracks and sites on the tracks’ (Walsh & Mitchell 2002, p. 9). The British, on the other hand, felt that land was to be owned and that it was nothing more than a place or a location. They also felt that it was irresponsible and somewhat savage to let land thrive and exist naturally without developing it. To them, land was to be divvied up and the maximum yield squeezed out of it.
At the time of settlement the British felt that the Aborigines ‘live(ed) in a state of nature (that) did not use the land in a progressive manner’ (Attwood 1996, p. X), and this set the tone for changing attitudes of the British and Aboriginals. The British didn’t respect or understand the sanctity of the land that the Aborigines observed, and started with clearing the country for their development. They were nearly the exact opposite of the Aborigines, who were ‘people (who) were land managers, not land exploiters’ (Kohen 1995, p. 128).
At the present day, the Aboriginal views and plans for the land directly clash with non-Aboriginal views and plans. When addressing the issue of whether or not there can be shared common land between the Aborigines and non-Aborigines, there seems to be no answer other than ‘no’. Both parties want different things for the land, and there is no option for coexistence. For example, one of the Aboriginals’ main desires is to preserve their land for religious and ritualistic practices. They would like to see the land untouched, except for their traditional management methods.
The non-Aborigines, on the other hand, would like to develop the land, putting in roads, housing settlements, and other characteristics of what they consider to be ‘civilization’. Mines are also a very big issue in the land-rights battles of Aborigines vs. non-Aborigines.
In many instances it is physically impossible for Aborigines and non-Aboriginals to share land. It is virtually impossible to keep land protected and in its ‘dreamtime’ state while simultaneously running a mine on the same land. The only way to somewhat ‘share’ the land is to declare parts of the country as Aboriginal land and other parts as non-Aboriginal land. That is the only way that these two parties can share Australia.
Rose is correct in asserting that ‘The notion of caring for country is quintessentially Aboriginal,’ and that ‘nowhere in the world is there a body of knowledge built up so consistently over so many millennia’. The Aborigines, over there tens of thousands of years on the Australian continent, have been forced to compile an extensive knowledge of their country and its management in order to survive in some of the most unforgiving land in the world. Their method of regeneration by burning, along with placing sanctuaries around breeding grounds, shows their deep and intimate knowledge of their environment.
REFERENCES
Attwood, B 1996, In the age of mabo: history, aborigines, and australia, Allen & Unwin, Sydney.
Australian Government n.d., European discovery and the colonization of australia, viewed 16 March 2009, http://cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/australianhistory/.
Broome, R 1994, Aboriginalaustralians: black responses to white dominance, 1788-1994, Dah Hua Printing, Hong Kong.
Kohen, J 1995, Aboriginal environmental impacts, University of New South Wales Press, Sydney.
Rose, D 1996, Nourishing terrains: australian aboriginal views of landscape and wilderness, Australian Heritage Commission, Canberra.
Walsh, F & Mitchell, P 2002, Planning for country-cross-cultural approaches to decision making on aboriginal lands, IAD Press, Alice Springs.
This past weekend I spent the night at Reese’s, and the following morning he burned me a few cd’s of my favorite music I’ve heard here, all of which they play in the clubs that we’ve hit up. Check ‘em out below, I freakin’ LOVE these tunes! The last song isn’t Australian, but it’s one of my favorites. You’ve gotta listen to it. Turn up your computer speakers, dial up the sub-woofer, and get ready to boogie!
I have been single for one year, five months and a few days. I feel petty and immature for calculating that number, and more-so for the effect that it has on me. I am a person who requires intense relationships in order to flourish, relationships with deep love, caring, intense debate among trying topics, and shared experiences. I have many wonderful friends who I have made and retained over the years, but for some odd reason these relationships, as loving and wonderful as many of them are, don’t have the same intensity that dating relationships have.
The month before I left for Australia I had this thirst quenched by a quite unlikely source-my good friend Nick. I feel awkward to saying that, and it will no doubt be awkward for Nick to read, but we have been through a great deal together. I have known him since kindergarten, and since then we have changed drastically from the preps we were in middle school-him to the more artistic, drama-ish side of the cultural/clique landscape, and me to…well, whatever the heck I am. He is about as close as I have to a (human) brother (Beau will forever hold that absolute distinction), and my relations with him quench my appetite for an intense bond.
Now, as I’ve thought about this, it occurs to me that what takes years upon years to build in a friendship seemingly takes mere weeks to build in a romantic relationship. Maybe this is just me. I enter romantic relationships with full intensity, as if the act of commencing a dating relationship directly precedes marital engagement (which I understand is wrong and misguided…I’m working on it!). A bond is created, whether through physical interactions, social or emotional. I latch onto that person and try to create a one-ness of stories and feelings and experiences. (I just got this vision, and it’s quite out there, and has to do with Harry Potter. Haha. Alright, so, the Pensieve. You know, that stone bowl where Dumbledore extracts memories from one’s brain to be viewed? Ok, so, I think of it as extracting our memories and thoughts and ideas and experiences and mixing them in a bowl, creating one mixture. Too weird? Yeah, I thought so…must be the lack of sleep…)
Anyway, I have been lacking this bond with a female for the above-mentioned period of time, and it has really started to kind of get to me. Not ‘get to me’ in the way that it’s affecting me psychologically or physically or whatever, but getting to me in the way of me thinking, “Jeeze, it’s about time!” It would be so awesome to have somebody to just chill with, let out my worries and frustrations, direct love and affection towards, and have someone who is a part of me. That’s kind of what happens when you date somebody; they become a part of you. Your choice of dating them reflects back on to you and defines who you are. I miss that. I miss having that other piece.
It’s no surprise then that the prospect brought about by hundreds of emails, hour-plus long Skype sessions and ridiculously expensive phone calls to a female I’m interested in back home in Eugene is quite exciting for me. Love truly does add an extra perfumed, fuzzy, warm and exciting layer to life. Not love in the sense of ‘I will go to the depths of the earth for you’ or ‘I am committed to you always’ or anything like that; love in the sense of wanting to be in someone’s presence so desperately and it gnawing away at you, having them on your mind way too much, and going out of your way to do something that to the outside observer seems petty or ridiculous, but that shows that other person that you just can’t get them out of your head and that you care for them. That kind of love.
Chloë and I have been fantasizing about our meeting in Eugene and what a joyous and absolutely out-of-this-world experience it will be. The visualization was of us in a park seeing each other, and her running towards me. (I always thought it would be funny if she tripped at the end. That always gives us a good laugh!) We had dreamt of what it would be like to meet here; while I was walking around by the Opera House and bumping into her or something. How crazy would that be? Anyway, we pretty much had it planned out-a park in Eugene, on the river, talking for hours.
Recently I received an e-mail from her, as per usual, from which the following is excerpted:
I’ve got some possible good news – but I’d rather make you anxious and not tell you;-)
And then when I didn’t acknowledge it,
PETER I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU. Remind me to tell you when we skype. actually…i won’t forget soooo I’m a little upset – i totally pulled the “I have a secret but I’m not going to tell you” – and you didn’t get upset!!
Needless to say I got the message, so we set a time to Skype the morning I was to arrive in Sydney from NZ.
The morning before our date I had awoken in Wellington at 4am, flown to Sydney, hopped the train and then lugged my luggage up to the apartment. I got all ready, made sure I had showered, shaved, and looked relatively ‘fresh’, and opened the connection to America. The screen was black, then flickered green. Her face finally popped up on the screen, lagging with the audio, tripped-up somewhere over the Pacific.
We greeted each other warmly and excitedly (and with a little flutter of the heart). I filled her in on New Zealand, and she brought me abreast to life in the Willamette Valley. I then remembered and asked, “Oh, what is it that was your big surprise or whatever?” She looked at me and kind of smiled, then silence. I was expecting her to tell me she had been made Prom Queen, or that she had gotten a nice scholarship to Corvallis, or something of the sort.
She took a deep breath. ”I’m going to Australia…I’m gonna be in Sydney”.
My face dropped from a smile into a gaping expression of wonderment. “What? Holy &!$%, when?”
“June”, she replied, half-giddily, half-cautiously.
“Holy &!$%, holy &!$%”, I repeated slowly but excitedly with disbelief. Our ridiculous, far-fetched fantasy now had glimmers of reality.
She explained that her parents had decided that because she was awarded a free-ride scholarship to the U of O they would reward her by giving her her dream trip as a graduation present. Chloë has always been obsessed with New Zealand and digs on Australia. Her parents felt she had connections here and that she could also fulfill her secondary dream of travelling down under with her friend Katie, also a fantasy of many years.
Chloë also has a random older friend who is Australian and he has a few sons in Sydney. Her plan was to stay with one of them, which sent pangs of jealousy through me. I wanted to invite her to stay with me but wasn’t sure how she would react to that or how my flat mates would feel about it. It was better than nothing, of course, so I stuffed those feelings down my throat and out of my consciousness.
For the next week or so we exchanged e-mails that expressed our excitement and our incredulity and threw some ideas and questions around for the upcoming trip. I then received this e-mail.
Alright so we’ve got a little change of plans… Katie woke me up at 8 this morning to tell me that she can’t go anymore…
Her dad is making her work. Ugh. So I layed in bed for like 800 years just thinking and I feel like it would be so incredible lame to pass up an experience like this – somewhere I’ve always dreamt I would be - that my parents are offering, just because my friend can’t go. But that also completely changes things. I talked with my mom for a long time this morning too and she told me she’s not sure how much she trusts those sons I was telling you about. We talked with my dad too and he pretty much told me that I was still going – it didn’t even phase him that katie couldn’t go anymore. But like I said, that changes things. Okay, I feel like I’m beating around the bush – my parents want me to be with you. To … experience sydney with you. And I would love that, but I want you to really think about it too. Would it be weird AT ALL? I don’t want you to feel obligated to care for me. If I came by myself I’d want both of us to be just…comfortable. I’m also thinking I could turn it into a dance trip. Like, check out different ballroom studios/make connections/take private lessons. My mom thought that was kind of a lame idea though – she thinks I’ll regret dancing instead of just kind of living it up down there. I always feel like a need a mission though. I still really want to do this. But yea…it changes things, that’s for sure. Let me know what you’re thinking. I hate not being able to see your reactions, I always read them.
She was coming alone! IT WOULD BE JUST US! This was perfect, and it just blew me away how all of this was happening. There are certain instances in which things just completely fall into perfect order-like dropping a handful of jig-saw puzzle pieces onto a table and having them miraculously land aligned-and I am convinced God has a hand in this. (What does that mean knowing that she is an atheist, I wonder…?)
Then, a few days later…
Alright, so my mom came to me this morning and said that dad and her talked about the trip last night. They’re okay with me going alone but they also feel uncomfortable trusting you when they’ve never met you. They know that they can, but like my mom was saying – if she were to call me and I didn’t answer, so she called you and you didn’t know where I was – she would freak out. And she doesn’t want to put you in that situation. They still seem pretty okay with me going alone, but my mom also brought up that they talked about her going with me. Hah. But before I could even respond she told me that she just wants to be there as backup. She said I could still stay with you, do whatever – she just wants to know that if …something happens, she’ll be on the same continent. Also, if i wanted to fly off to another part or NZ, she could do that with me. Reh. So that somewhat dappens the me “roughing it” aspect, but I’m sure the discussions not even close to being over. When are your finals? Haha my mom felt bad that she was considering coming and that I would have to tell you that, but I have to understand, I guess. I know she’d still let me be independent. La la la so much to plan!!
I was at first a little disappointed after reading this e-mail, but for some reason it soon calmed me. For one, I’m a master with parental relations, and I am glad that I’ll be able to instill confidence in her for me. I don’t want her parents fretting that she is hanging out and somewhat at the mercy of some guy she really hasn’t hung out with EVER, and who she pretty much only knows through cyber interactions.
I also know the great amount of stress that having a parent in the vicinity relieves, even if Chloë were to never see her. It gives one a safety-net of sorts, financial, emotional and practical, in the case that anything went wrong.
Along with the excitement is a lurking sense of fear. Fear that our interactions won’t be as wonderful or easy or compatible as they are through e-mail, Skype and phone. That she’ll see an ugly side in me, or I in her. We really have no idea of what to expect, and this is the cause of the nervousness. But excitement is the positive form of nervousness, and man am I excited about meeting up with her here!
So that’s pretty much where we’re at. And pretty much all I’m thinking of these days. At the moment we’re in the planning stages: I’m looking into Opera House shows and rugby games that will be on while she is here, as well as talking about the Blue Mountains and other things she will want to do. I’ve also talked to Reese about getting an extra mattress for her.
This is an incredible whirl-wind of emotions and feelings, and man am I excited. I think it would be good to end this post with this little recollection. After the excitement of all of this Chloë made it clear that she didn’t want to disrupt the end of my trip, or take me away from anything that I wanted to do. This felt absolutely ridiculous to me, and I made the following clear. She has been a part of this trip. The daily e-mails, the Skype sessions, surprise phone calls-these things have all come to add to the memories of this experience. Going forward I will never think of my first time in Australia without thinking of Chloë and the unique and improbable relationship we have formed. Her arriving in Australia towards the end of my time here will be the perfect story-book ending to this story-book affair.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Note-This publication has been approved by the subject.
I’ve been obsessed with this song for maybe 5 or so months. Jay-Z and Eminem. Doesn’t sound like it would work, but it’s flawless. Just love how Em confronts all the controversy and false perceptions about him. I don’t agree with everything, just most of it.
[Jay-Z]
Mother****** -
say that I’m foolish I only talk about jewels (bling bling)
Do you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?
See I’m influenced by the ghetto you ruined
That same dude you gave nothin, I made somethin doin
what I do through and through and
I give you the news – with a twist it’s just his ghetto point-of-view
The renegade; you been afraid
I penetrate pop culture, bring ‘em a lot closer to the block where they
pop toasters and they live with their moms got drop roasters from botched robberies nig*** crouched over
mommies knocked up cause she wasn’t wached over
knocked down by some clown when child support knocked
no he’s not around now how that sound to ya, jot it down
I bring it through the ghetto without ridin ’round
hidin down duckin strays from frustrated youths stuck in they ways
Just read a magazine that fu**ed up my day
How you rate music that thugs with nothin relate to it
i help them see their way through it – no you cant step in my pants cant walk in my shoes
bet everything you worth you lose your tie and your shirt
[Eminem]
Since I’m in a position to talk to these kids and they listen
I ain’t no politician but I’ll kick it with ‘em a minute
Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I’ll wear it
But if it don’t, then y’all’ll swallow the truth grin and bear it
Now who’s these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics
Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics
Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits
But there’s a huge interference – they’re sayin you shouldn’t hear it
Maybe it’s hatred I spew, maybe it’s food for the spirit
Maybe it’s beautiful music I made for you to just cherish
But I’m debated disputed hated and viewed in America
as a motherf***in drug addict – like you didn’t experiment?
Now now, that’s when you start to stare at who’s in the mirror
and see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased
And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents
You fu***n do-gooders – too bad you couldn’t do good at marriage!
(Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don’t
think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo
Cause here we go – he’s {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*}
And I’m the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it’s just a
[Chorus: Eminem + Jay-Z]
[Em] RENEGADE! Never been afraid to say
what’s on my mind at, any given time of day
Cause I’m a RENEGADE! Never been afraid to talk
about anything (ANYTHING) anything (ANYTHING), RENEGADE!
[Jay] Never been afraid to say
what’s on my mind at, any given time of day
Cause I’m a {RENEGADE} Never been afraid to holler
about anything {anything?} Anything {ANYTHING!}
[Jay-Z]
I had to hustle, my back to the wall, ashy knuckles
Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent
Gotta vent, lot of innocent of lives lost on the project bench
Whatchu hollerin? Gotta pay rent, bring dollars in
By the bodega, iron under my coat, feelin braver
Doo-rag wrappin my waves up, pockets full of hope
Do not step to me – I’m awkward, I box leftier often
My pops left me an orphan, my momma wasn’t home
Could not stress to me I wasn’t grown; ‘specially on nights
I brought somethin home to quiet the stomach rumblings
My demeanor – thirty years my senior
My childhood didn’t mean much, only raisin’ green up
Raisin’ my fingers to critics; raisin’ my head to the sky
Big I did it – multi before I die (ni**a)
No lie, just know I chose my own fate
I drove by the fork in the road and went straight
[Eminem]
See I’m a poet to some, a regular modern day Shakespeare
Jesus Christ the King of these Latter Day Saints here
To shatter the picture in which of that as they paint me
as a monger of hate and Satan a scatter-brained atheist
But that ain’t the case, see it’s a matter of taste
We as a people decide if Shady’s as bad as they say he is
Or is he the latter – a gateway to escape?
Media scapegoat, who they can be mad at today
See it’s easy as cake, simple as whistlin Dixie
while I’m wavin the pistol at sixty Christians against me
Go to war with the Mormons, take a bath with the Catholics
in holy water – no wonder they try to hold me under longer
I’m a motherf***in spiteful, DELIGHTFUL eyeful
The new Ice Cube – motherf***ers HATE to like you
What did I do? (huh?) I’m just a kid from the gutter
makin this butter off these bloodsuckers, cause I’m a muh’f***in
This morning started as most mornings do…the blaring annoying-ness of my phone’s alarm waking me up about 6 hours earlier than it should. I hit snooze a couple of times, then joined the parents for a wonderful breakfast with Alastair and Shirley, our hosts at the Oak Lodge Homestay. To do the experience of the Oak Lodge Homestay justice, the hosts must be explained. Shirley is a wonderfully warm, generous, and hospitable woman; the kind of person who comforts you even if you’ve never met her before. I spoke about this in the last post, but she had an extra room open and allowed me to take it, free of charge, so I could have some privacy. Most places wouldn’t even bring up the option of another room, much less offer it for free.
And Alastair, what a wonderful, salt-of-the-earth man. When you picture a New Zealand sheep farmer, you picture Alastair. Worn Levi’s tucked into rubber boots, with a gray raw wool sweater hanging off his muscular frame. Large, calloused hands and a weathered face, with many stories to tell. He mentioned that a year prior he had sold his sheep farm, which had been in the family for three generations and over one hundred years, and bought the bed and breakfast with his wife Shirley. He now has only 80 sheep on the bed and breakfast’s campus, a far cry from the three thousand he cared for on the farm. Three thousand! And he didn’t have any help, it was only him. (He spoke of hiring a few extra hands at peak months, but still!) He showed us a magazine of ”a New Zealand sheep farmer”, which was him on the cover. The article read of his story and his sheep-raising methods; it was fascinating to read about him and his previous vocation. It was truly the authentic, real New Zealand experience. And they’re not even paying me to say this!
Oak Lodge Homestay
It was engrossing for me to be on the pseudo-farm at the bed and breakfast, with a real, live, legitamate sheep farmer. If there were classes of sheep farmers, Alastair would be considered world class. I’ve been studying Animal Sciences for the past 1+ years, and we’ve covered sheep and sheep production; to experience it in the flesh made it all come alive.
After breakfast Alastair took us outside to show us around and give us a bit of a tour. It had been dark when we rolled in the previous night and we hadn’t seen much. He took us to a bridge under which a river flew, and we fed the eels! It was so ridiculous, and man were they big. Some were as big as two metres, which is HUGE! And they were thick! We threw white bread down and one swam towards it, then another, and by the end we had maybe fifteen or twenty eels fighting over the bread and stirring up the river.
Feedin’ Eels
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He then took us to the sheep and let us help him feed them. Working at VMAIL (Veterinary Medicine Animal Isolation Lab-shout out to y’all!) I had seen sheep before, so I wasn’t a total newbie. Something about New Zealand sheep is special though, they’re iconic. Almost like celebrities. Australia has the Opera House; New Zealand has sheep. It was so picturesque and wonderful, feeding the sheep with the paddock in front of us, the green hills and mountains as a backdrop.
Feeding the Sheep
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Then (and my favorite part) Alastair took us to his dogs. They were wonderful! And sheep-herding dogs at that! He had two border collies who were highly trained, and highly energized. We loved on them for a while. Then he had this other dog, a large black-and-tan boy, which he informed us was a Huntaway. He gave us a quick demo of how they were commanded by whistles,
and had the Huntaway jump over the fence on command a couple times. It was a bittersweet experience (more sweet than bitter) because it reminded me of Beau, my brother and my family’s dog who passed away this summer at the age of fourteen. He was an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix, straight sheep-herding in his blood. Alastair hadn’t heard of Australian Shepherds, which I found interesting. We loved on the dogs a bit, then pushed off to our next stop-Hanmer Springs.
Sheep Dogs
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Entry to the garden. So beautiful!
Alastair gave us an alternate route to Hamner Springs, which went through the small coastal village of Punakaiki. According to Alastair, it was supposed to show us the most beautiful scenery NZ had to offer. Again we went through mountains on incredibly windy roads, seeing pastures of sheep and cattle, mountains, hills, rivers, and waterfalls. We stopped off at the small visitors center/tourist trap in Punakaiki, situated right on the coast. Dad and I came upon a woman selling beautiful New Zealand jade, called greenstone, and she pulled us in and didn’t let go. It was probably the combination of beautiful stones and masterful sales(wo)manship, but before it was all done we walked away with three stones between us. I also picked up a beautiful bowl made out of the core of a fern tree-it’s just stunning. I’ll put a picture of it below…
Treefern Bowl
The real attraction of Punakaiki is its ‘Pancake Rocks’ rock formation, which look exactly how they sound. Discs upon discs of rock, but all solid. Quite a beautiful freak of nature. It also had blowholes and places where the water carved paths through the rocks. The water would rush in and crash against the walls, making a spectacular sight.
Pancake Rock Tour
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Near the coast was the tropical fauna; the further you got away from it the less tropical it became, i.e. no tree ferns or palm trees. Deep green and lush bushes and trees were abundant, and carpeted the sides of the mountains.
I got a few good shots in Punakaiki, but we decided we should push on, as usual, to try to beat the cover of darkness.
Regret is truly one of the most terrible feelings. It gnaws away at you and ruins everything in its path until you either compromise with it or accept defeat. When making a purchase of something that I will not have the chance to purchase again I am many times overcome by the tuggings of regret. Not regret at the moment, but possible regret in the future. For instance, when I was at Adidas looking at the All-Blacks gear, I lusted after a jersey AND a track-suit top. I didn’t have enough money to buy both, so it was one or the other. And I couldn’t make up my mind. It took literally a half-hour for me to reason through the decision, force away the pangs of possible-regret, and make the actual purchase.
The same thing happened today with the New Zealand jade. I saw a stone that I wanted, and it was different from the rest. I thought maybe I should get a smooth one rather than a jagged one, but decided on the jagged stone. And now I’m afraid that I will regret not getting a smooth one. WHAT THE HELL! Why is it that these trivial things, things that don’t matter in the slightest in the future, take up so much of my mental space? It’s the memories that matter, not the things. And I KNOW this! Ugh.
And I’ve had it forever, this preoccupation with regret. One of my earliest memories is being at the Enchanted Forest, a wonderful (well, used to be) theme park nestled in a hillside forest along I-5. I remember a tunnel-like attraction that went below the path, and I was really intrigued but too nervous to try it. Dad decided to go for it and check it out, without me, and I regretted not doing it for the rest of the day. I know it’s dumb, but man has it’s stuck with me. Burned into my brain like a red-hot iron pressed to a calves rump. Weird, eh?
Anyways, after Punakaiki we drove on towards Hanmer Springs, finally arriving in, you guessed it, darkness. Our lodging was to be at the Cheltenham House. It was a grand old house that was converted into a bed and breakfast, with a wonderful common area complete with a fire and another snookers table, one of the largest I’ve ever seen. Dad was even blown away! We went out into the little town of Hanmer Springs to get some grub, and I ended up ordering pheasant and sharing a jug of New Zealand beer with dad.
Pheasant
After dinner dad and I had a go at snookers, and I came oh-so-close to beating him. Legitimately close! Close as in I had one ball left on the table when it was all over. Ugh…next time!
That table was HUGE! With tiny pockets...
After being at so many bed and breakfasts you begin to notice patterns. For one, they don’t have heating in New Zealand. At all. Every night and evey morning the rooms would be absolutely freezing. (It didn’t help that in Greymouth I discovered right before we left that my windows were wide open…) Space heaters were supplied, but still! Also, the towel racks are all heated. I thought this was cool at first, but it really only heated the part of the towel which was in contact with it, which was like 1/50th of the blanket. Seemed like a bit of a waste.
All in all, another wonderful day in the land of NZ!
I’ve asked for feedback from a friend and she told me that I’ve been describing the fauna too much in these NZ posts, and there’s a reason for that. The thing about New Zealand is nature is pretty much all it has-beautiful and luscious nature. Everything is built around it, and that is why one goes to New Zealand-for the wildness and non-development of it. The point is taken though, and I’m gonna back off of it. Just know that the scenery is amazing and mind-blowing. Wholly serene.
In a major artwork by Eno, LUMINOUS launches with the lighting of the Sydney Opera House sails. Like a freeform painting, Utzon’s masterpiece will glow with rich, continuously changing configurations of colour. Presented in association with Smart Light, the sails will remain lit for the three weeks of LUMINOUS.
I understand that the mention of the world ‘orgasm’ will make some people squirm and uncomfortable, but I brainstormed for another word and could not come up with one that fit what I was trying to say. Also, I kinda enjoy being a bit controversial and pushing people…
I found myself standing on the top of a ridge, a cold wind howling about me. 360° views of variably green rolling hills encircled me, with pastures cordoned off alongside the slopes of each ridge for sheep and cattle. The hills were smooth with grass, save for random patches of trees and small farm houses. The cold air stung my nose, but the sweet smells of pastures along with the fresh ocean air was redeeming. Below me was the quaint New Zealand town of Akaroa, perched on the edge of Banks Peninsula, with a beautiful harbor stretching through the mountains and off into the mist. The descriptor of the day: A Perpetual Photographic Orgasm.
Video of the Above Description
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That morning we awoke (late…I was supposed to wake my parents, but didn’t turn up the volume on my phone, sleeping through it…) to an incredible breakfast made by our host Glenda. Two different types of kiwis (served by a Kiwi!), pineapple, watermellon, granola, wonderful tropical fruit yogarts, plum compote, eggs benedict and bacon. WOW!
This cat showed up at my parents door the night before, and chilled with us for a bit. It was wonderful!
I chilled in my room a little bit, worked on internet stuff, then got ready for our trip to Akaroa. It was supposed to be a beatiful trip, and I was pumped! The excitement quickly faded, however, after we took what felt like wrong turn after wrong turn; it felt like we would NEVER get out of the city. I was really getting frustrated. It didn’t seem that difficult, and I didn’t know what the problem was. I am only gonna be in NZ for 6 days, so I was starting to get pissed that the day was slipping away.
The parents did, however, succeed in getting us out into the city, and we drove past sheep pastures upon sheep pastures at the base of beautiful hills, all colored differently due to the changing leaves. It is, you see, autumn. Snow-capped jagged mountains were ahead of us; it was just spectacular. It really does feel like Middle Earth!
Drivin’
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After a while we arrived at a little community and stopped at the information center, which also doubled as a craft co-op. I found a blue beanie hand-knit from New Zealand wool for $20 New Zealand dollars, which translates to about $14 USD, mom found a sweater for herself made from New Zealand wool and possum, and dad found a beanie as well. I overheard a man asking the shopkeeper if there were any less-curvy roads-his passenger was feeling sick. She said no, and he went on his way. I thought, “Oh man, it looks like I made it through the windy-ness without throwing up!” I had no idea of the roads to come, and this was probably a good thing.
We drove on towards Akaroa, climbing quickly through the hills on switchbacks. I started to feel dizzy, so I switched with mom, taking the front seat. In about two minutes we had climbed 500 or so feet and looked down upon the valley, mountains, and hill-side sheep pastures that surrounded us, with their rickety old wood and wire fences, reminicent of Hobbiton.
We kept on winding through the hills/mountains (it’s really hard to define it…they were rolling hills, but there were also snow-capped mountains. Pictures will come…you decide) and came to a fork-the left was Tourist Road, an incredibly twisty but stunning route along the tops of the hills/mountains, or the shorter but less stunning route to Akaroa. I had my camera, and it was roughly 2 pm, so we took Tourist Road.
At this point we were above the harbour, driving around towards the far end. The harbour was spectacular, with the mountains behind it, and its watery fingers clawing into the peninsula. It was a misty and cold day, which didn’t yield the best photographic situations. I did, however, continue shooting, falling back on HDR to try to get me through the tough circumstances. I think I got a few good ones.
The roads just kept on getting windier and windier, following the exact curvature of the mountains. In and out of the ridges we went, up and down-these roads were probably built to have the least amount of impact on the land; good for nature, bad for stomaches. I started to get dizzy, and the dizzy feeling migrated south into my stomache. I prayed and prayed, breathed deeply, and thought logically about throwing up. As we got closer to Akaroa, and started to quickly descent, cautious pangs of jubilance overtook me. Overcoming such stressful obstacles as these, even with supernatural help, is an incredibly freeing and joyous experience. It was so great to drive along the beach, out of the mountains, and on less-windy roads.
The town of Akaroa was so cute! It was settled by the French (before they realized that the British actually colonized New Zealand before them) so there was a strong likeness to European villages. Very tidy, many cute little pubs and shops, and the layout of the streets all reminded me of Germany. It’s hard to explain it, but the atmosphere was just very European.
We had skipped lunch, which is never a good thing, and at this point I was light-headed with hunger. We stumbled into a restaraunt that overlooked the harbour and ordered some grub. The server was a Maori woman, which was quite exciting. I don’t want to objectify the Maori people, but you just hear so much about the Maori, and to meet one was quite cool. First came mussels for the appetizer (or entre, as they call it here), then I had glazed duck for a main. Dad had a seafood platter that was just incredible. Oh, and we had a bowl of fries. So good! (Forgot what mom had…some kind of seafood I think…) We were just talking today about how we haven’t had a bad meal here; they all have been nothing less than gourmet (minus McDonalds, of course). They really know how to eat and cook food down under!
We piled back into the car and sped out af Akaroa, trying to make it out of the mountians before darkness hit. This time we took the shorter, less scenic route, which caused me great relief. We got back on to level ground in about half an hour, which was surprising quick after taking Tourist Road. It felt like that took three hours! I nodded off on the way home, exhausted from the adventure and stress.
After hearing about New Zealand and its beauty time and time again I started to think that it was more talk than reality. I also speculated that most of the beauty was in non-accessible places. This is not the case. New Zealand is more beautiful than you can imagine-unless you have a freakin’ awesome imagination. And much of the beauty is seen straight from the road. It doesn’t seem as though colonization or settlement or humans have degradated the beauty, it seems pure and thriving to me. But hey, what do I know. I’ve only been here three days.
The following day, which is today as I’m writing it, (but I will probably finish this post tomorrow…I’m on a string of HUGE posts-I’ve got a lot to relay back to friends and family) we awoke to another wonderful breakfast, and this time I woke up on time! Breakfast was similar to the previous morning, except we had a tree tomato compote, which was like sweet tomatoes, with the addition of pancakes with apple syrup and chocolate croissants. Glenda sure knows how to do it!
Tour of Coastal Cliffs B&B
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(Oh, and I meant New Zealand dollars, not Australian dollars…)
We said our goodbyes and drove off towards Greymouth, taking Arthur’s Pass directly through the mountains. It was stunning. The road wound up the side of a mountain, giving us views of the valley below. Then we descended on the others side, and came back to the flats. We pulled off at a gorgeous blue lake to stretch our legs and take pictures, and a guy in a car rolled down his window and said, “Icha tekken tha picturrrrez?” I could barely understand this thick NZ accent, but we spoke a bit. He lived near Greymouth, and invited me out to his place to see horses and Indians (didn’t really know there were Indians here…). I said something about being in the land of Lord of the Rings, and he mumbled something about rocks ahead. He also asked where I was from, and then offered me a lolly (candy). I went against all common sense and obliged. It was so tasty, a raspberry hard candy!!
We continued on our way, snaking around the bases of mountains, through valleys, with grey mountains, jagged, snow-covered mountains, rolling green hills, and waterfalls spurting from the hillsides. We came upon some strange-looking rocks jutting out from a lazy rolling hill, and pulled over. It was quite apparent that this was the place that my lolly-friendly amigo was speaking of.
I’m really having trouble figuring out how to explain what it looked like. I’ll post pics at some time. Let’s see…Imagine having a large rock and dropping a 500lb weight on it, breaking it all up. Then sprinkle the rocks over a mound of dirt. And most of the rocks are smooth…ok, that didn’t really work. Well, hm…I’ll put up some pictures. Just, rocks by themselves, formations of rocks, natural shelters of rocks, it was cool. And by a working farm, which was also kinda cool.
Tour of Castle Hills
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Close-up of Castle Hills
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We got back on the road and pushed towards Greymouth. Dad again wanted to get out of the mountains before dark, so we had to hurry. It was very interesting how the scenery changed. The changes were subtle, but not lacking in profundity. The views went from pastures with rolling hills to rolling hills with a backdrop of large, snow-capped mountains. Non-tropical flora to tropical-palm trees and fern trees, and other tropical plants-the closer we got to the coast. It was as if we were driving from Alaska to Hawai’i-it’s the only way I can describe it.
There must be some law in New Zealand that forbiddens more than 500m of straight road. I have never experienced such an abundance of windy roads in my life. The road to Akaroa was the worst, but nearly every road that we have taken was ridiculous. And I’m not just throwing the world ridiculous around. RIDICULOUS.
On this day-trip I experienced one of the most stunning stretches of road that I have ever seen. It took me by surprise, so I most regrettably have no pictures. We crossed a bridge that was above a river bustling over white rocks, much in the same fashion as the Little Su that runs through Hatcher Pass in AK. The rode then hugged the side of a mountain and curled around it, with the river on the left, and a wall shooting straight up from that which formed a mountain. In front of us this strange concrete chute was erected; its purpose to divert a waterfall and carry it above the road, shooting it out into the air, landing in the river hundreds of feet below. The chute was about thirty feet tall or so, and was a strikingly ingenious and intriguing installation.
As I write these NZ posts I feel as though it is my duty to attempt to convey the beauty of the land here, but it’s nearly impossible. Many times I feel as though I’m a babbling idiot, repeating ‘stunning’, ‘beautiful’, ‘gorgeous’, and other adjectives. It’s frustrating! I’ll have pictures coming soon, and I’ll insert them into the posts as well, so…keep an eye out.
We stopped at a little town and had a bite to eat, then ventured on. I was feeling a bit dizzy from the roads at this point, so I switched with mom and took the front seat. It felt like a bit of a defeat, as I would really like to kill this vomiting phobia of mine. Afternoon turned in to night, and we were all exhausted- completely wrung out. At long last we saw a grouping of lights in the distance, and as we neared we discovered that it was the town of Greymouth. Finally!
We neared the bed and breakfast, a place called Oak Lodge Homestay. As we turned into the driveway we were greeted by 80 sheep in a paddock- is there anything more New Zealand than that?! Our hosts came out to greet us and introduced themselves as Alastair and Shirley, two warm and wonderfully hospitable souls. It was around 7:30pm, and like I said before, we were dead. Shirley showed us our rooms (originally it was going to be ‘room’, but Shirley gave me a room of my own. I owe her!!! ) and booked us a place at the best restaurant in town (it is only a town of 13,000, but still…!). It was dark outside so we couldn’t really see our surroundings, but we could tell by the inside of the place that we were someplace special.
To your right upon entrance was a wonderful sitting room, thick with an antique, old-world atmosphere. Wooden walls, a grand fireplace, extraordinary paintings, and cosy couches and chairs. To the left of the sitting room was a billiard room, complete with a pool table, or more accurately to this specific table, snookers. Dad and I played some, and I got creamed. (Technically I won both games ’cause he scratched on the 8-ball, but we’ll gloss over that…)
The restaurant was again exquisite. And, again, we were served by a beautiful female New Zealander. Ahhhhhhh… Anyways, I had wonderful glazed pork with a nice glass of New Zealand Pinot Gris.
After the meal we strolled about the small town of Greymouth, peering in the stores, and headed back to our little oasis. It was a perfect end to a stunning, stressful, tiring and eventful day.
I awoke this morning to the ringing of a phone, bleary-eyed and confused. I spent the night on the floor of my parents hotel, The Grace, in downtown Sydney, and it was the disgusing hour of 6:00 am. I writhed around for twenty minutes, feeling sorry for myself, and stumbled into the shower. Ugh, I hate early mornings, especially when airplane flights are to follow. Even the knowledge that we soon would be in Middle Earth didn’t brighten the morning.
I stayed with my parents in their hotel room Saturday night because we were to fly out to New Zealand the following morning, and we were already going to have a late night together. I had bought tickets for us to see the New South Wales Waratahs play the West Coast Force, a rugby union game at Sydney Football Stadium. (The Waratah is the state flower of New South Wales.) Dad and I were both pumped as we had been watching rugby league all week, marvelling over the huge hits sans pads.
Waratah
I had figured out all the transportation, packed all my bags and jumped on the train to the city. We took a bus to Oxford Street, a cool and charmingly dirty row of shops and restaraunts, and found ourselves a pizza place. We were served by a stunningly beautiful Brazilian girl who seemed near my age. She was so sweet, and had that doe-eyed apperance-overwhelmingly cute. It was at this point that I started to quietly resent the company of my parents; it’s quite hard to flirt with someone accompanied by your charming dad and lovely mother. I talked with her a tad and silently vowed to return the following week. We’ll see how I feel on Saturday after flying out of Wellington at 6:00am. I also need to get a haircut.
Anyway, we finished our Rocket (Arugala) pizza and made our way to Sydney Football Stadium. As we neared the venue the throngs of Waratah supporters increased consistently. It always reminds me of nearing an ant hill-you see one ant, then as you get closer it turns into 5, then 30, then 100, and by the time you reach the ant hill, or stadium, they are swarming on top of one another. These ants were wearing powder-blue rugby jerseys and scarves, partially marinated in alcohol, and ready for bone-crushing and blood-spurting fun.
The stadium was laid out in a very interesting fashion. As you can see from the pictures, from the street it looks like it is just the top of the stadium coming out of the earth, without a base of any sort. In the states most of our stadiums are built from the ground up. This stadium, intriguingly, was built below ground level. We took stairs down from the street, entered the stadium, then the concourse, then walked down to our seats. It was quite cool!
Sydney Football Stadium
Inside the stadium. It later filled up.
We looked for our section and presented our tickets to the usher and she directed us, “All the way to the bottom and on the right.” We started down the steps, and I excitedly whispered to mom, “Did you hear that?! All the way down!” She wasn’t kidding either, we were in the very first row, near ground level. (Well, technically the second row, but the second row started about 3 metres to the right of us. I’m calling it first row!)
Dad and I
I was bent on arriving early, so we had about forty-five minutes until …I want to say kick-off…I think thats what is is. I visited the ATM for a few bucks (as did everybody else, took me 20 minutes or so) and bought myself a sweet white- and powder blue-striped supporter scarf, as well as a Waratah rugby ball. I was set!
Warm-ups and Stadium Panorama
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It was my hope to sit next to some cordial Waratah fans, as I was hoping to get explanations of the game. It seemed as though I was out of luck, my neighbor to the right was a broad-shouldered jersey-wearing intense supporter. Somehow throughout the course of the first-half I broke the ice (I believe I was wondering about rules aloud to my father, in the hopes of being corrected by him…). Throughout the rest of the game we talked football and the differences between rugby and American football. He explained how much the players made (the good ones make an upwards of $600,000, close to a million with sponsors), what certain calls meant, and other rules. It was fantastic having him next to me; turns out he played for a rugby club a few years ago. I learned so much about the game!
He left to get some grub and I talked to his dad/uncle/friend who took him to the game, and he revealed that his wife was from Delaware. We spoke about America a bit, other sports, my studies at Macquarie, etc. These truly are the nicest people, Australians! I was peppering them both with questions and they were more than happy to oblige. I think it excited them that it was my first rugby game.
We were so close that we could hear the grunts and the smash of the scrums. Take your fists, ball them up, and smash them directly into each other. Now imagine your each knuckle as a player’s head, with each fist being a team. This is a scrum. The team with posession then slips the ball through the middle of the scrum towards their side, and the men in the scrum can only use their feet to move the ball backwards.
Pseudo-Fight
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SCRUM!
Another scrum shot.
There are no forward passes; you can kick the ball forward or lateral it backwards. And once the player is tackled he/she must release the ball backwards on the ground to his/her team mate. Running into the opponent’s end zone and touching the ball to the ground equals five points, and a extra-point-like kick follows, which equals two points. Also, if there is a penalty, a team can either choose to retain posession of the ball or attempt to kick it through the goal posts for three points.
Conversion
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Gameplay
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Gameplay was amazing. We were about 5 metres from the actual players when they advanced the ball to our side, and to see the hits was incredible. As I mentioned before, we could hear the grunts and the smash of the scrum, and players breathing hard as they came past us. The throw-ins were interesting as well. One team has a player throwing in the ball, as in soccer, and both teams hoist a player up to their shoulders to try to grab the ball. It was so unique!
Line-Out
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Apparently blood isn’t a big deal. There were a few guys with blood seeping down their faces, cuts under their eyes, jerseys dirtied by blood, and they played on. The hits were massive, and they kept getting up. I can understand why they think American football is a sissy sport; these guys have no pads, there is much less stoppage of play, they play both offense and defense, and, again, they have no pads. It just felt like a pure, carnal sport; the same way that chess feels more pure than checkers, this felt more like war.
The ‘Tas lead at the half, but the Force ended up beating them. It was sad to see my beloved Waratahs lose, but so great to see a legitimate rugby game. It was so exciting, so passionate, so real, and it was such a rich cultural experience. The Aussies react in much the same way as we do to our American football, just with badass Australian accents.
The night was great, another new and unique Aussie experience. And I got to bring my parents to something that they had never witnessed before. I’m hoping to see the Wallabies in June, which is the Aussie rugby national team. They’ll be playing France. Anybody interested?
Panorama
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After our wonderful breakfast the next morning, which included fresh fruits, pastries, hash browns, juices, eggs benedict, etc., we headed towards the Wynyard train station. As we left the hotel it started to sprinkle rain, and was as gray as a January morning in Eugene. It was so ironic because it had been threatening rain all week, but had, for the most part, held off. And when we left Sydney it starts to rain. And its been raining since then, pretty constantly. It’s so essential that it stayed dry while they were here; it greatly cuts down on what you can do if it rains in Sydney.
We caught the 8:05 train to the airport and headed towards the airport. What a great way to end my parents tour of Sydney! The train snaked underground, then came out above Circular Quay, the harbour right in front of us. It was drab and rainy, with the Harbour Bridge on the left and the Opera House to the right. It was absolutely stunning! I had never seen the Quay rainy, and as it was early there wasn’t anybody out; it was like the beauty was reserved for us and our few fellow passengers.
We arrived at the airport and made it through to our gate without any disturbances. My system was a bit off, and I was feeling kinda crappy. I ALWAYS feel like crap when I fly early, and the breakfast was so rich, I was nervous about the plane, etc. I got over it though. But it did suck…ugh.
We flew Air New Zealand, which was the most comfortable I’d ever been on a plane. Each seat had a screen in the back of it, loaded with movies, tv shows, everything. I know many people have experienced that before, but it was a first for me. (Even though I’ve flown a bunch…) And it was only a 2 hour 40 minute flight, which was pretty convenient.
Dad and I watched Frost/Nixon, an incredibly intriguing movie on the English talk show host David Frost interviewing Richard Nixon after Watergate. It lasted about 2 hours, so it was perfect! I followed that up with an episode of Flight of the Concords. Is there anything more perfect than watching Flight of the Concords on a flight to New Zealand? The correct answer is NO.
The console in the seat...pretty sweet.
Somewhere above the Pacific.
We landed relatively smoothly into Christchurch, NZ, and trudged through security/customs/quarentine. Mom got attacked by a beagle. Ha, it was pretty funny. We were walking towards quarentine and a customs officer with a beagle came walking by, and the dog made a beeline towards mom’s bag and wouldn’t stop pestering it. Turned out he smelled a bananna that mom had thrown out minutes before, as well as some seeds from the Botanical Gardens. It slowed us down, but I was so delighted to have contact with a canine! It’s been so long, and with living in the city, and my brother’s departure, I really haven’t had that much contact with dogs. And it’s killing me! The bed and breakfast we’re at now has a dog; I’m super-psyched to see him!
The beagle found the seeds!
We headed out to our rental car and it started to hit me; I’m gonna die in New Zealand. My dad has been driving on the left side of cars for roughly 40 years, and this would be the first time that he would be driving on the right side. First we started driving with the arrow pointing towards us in the middle of the road, which is generally not a good sign (pun not intended). After making a wrong turn we pulled off into a parking lot, regrouped, and dad prepared to turn right to go back. He turned, but turned into the right lane, straight into oncoming traffic. I yelled, “Left, Left, LEFT-LEFT-LEFT” and at first he froze, then slightly swerved right (which is instinct [and a terrible instinct to have in OZ/NZ/UK]) then swerved to the left and into the proper lane. One of the freakiest things I had ever experienced. MAN! Also, the turn signal switch is on the opposite side, so we kept on having the wiper blades going as we were turning. He turned into the wrong side maybe 3 other times, but towards the end he figured it out.
Daddio Drivin'
Minutes after the near-collision...
Our woes did not end there. We found the general area of our bed and breakfast, which was on the side of a hill with a tree-like road heading up it. Tree-like in that it started out as one road, then forked off and forked off, and wound itself up the hillside. Incredibly confusing. And it took us half an hour to finally come to our destination. We got lost so many times, asked a few Kiwis for directions, and the post boxes kept jumping 11, which is the address we were looking for. It was so frustrating because we were all at our wits end for having almost died numerous times-we just wanted to reach our destination and depart the danger that is misguided instinct!
But we did finally arrive, and the place is just beautiful. It overlooks one of the inlets here, and when the fog isn’t out the mountains are directly in front of the dining room (or so we were told). There is a beautiful garden that mom of course loves, and comfortable and clean rooms, along with nice hosts.
The miracle of Google Earth.
Zoomed in a bit.
Today is dad’s birthday, so we went out for dinner in his honor. We drove to a small little town and ate at a little hole-in-the-wall Indian restaraunt, with literally six tables. It was so amazingly good. I had lamb (yes, NZ lamb!) with coconut and mustard seed sauce. It was so creamy, and the meat so tender. It was a delicious dinner!
The Thai Restaraunt. Love that place! The guy was so happy we loved our meals. SO good.
It really has surprised me how different New Zealand is from Australia. When we arrived it was around 62° with mist hanging in the air. It actually reminded me a lot of Eugene and comforted me, the wet and moist air. Nearly everything other than the roads and buildings are green, and there are very few densley-populated areas, but most of NZ is farm land. We came across a few swamplands and houses nestled up on hills nearly hidden by the fog. It’s quite obvious why Peter Jackson picked this oasis to be Middle Earth. Everything is so natural, dense, and wild, green and luscious. It is as if humans are an addition, not a parasite. I’ve barely been here 8 hours, and I love it here. I can’t wait to see more of the island! The only problem is, we’re driving!!!
Below are Rugby videos. If you don’t think its hardcore, check ‘em out. It’s ridiculous…
Here’s the New Zealand national team gettin’ revved up for their match…
Ugh…..I feel so overwhelmed. I want you all to know that I haven’t stopped writing or anything; my parents are here and I’ve been showing them around every day, and I have little-to-no time to write. And when I do I’m exhausted. Just a little FYI, I have posts in the workings that include the AFL game, my day with Reese in the Australian bush, as well as my time with my parents and our Blue Mountains trip. Also, I will be writing a post on the upcoming Opera House show tomorrow, Rugby game the following day, and then New Zealand. And I have a bunch of pictures and video from all of this, so I’m hoping the posts will be epic.
It’s just overwhelming. I kinda pour my heart and soul into these posts, and spend hours on them, so knowing that I have a bunch ahead of me just kinda brings me down. I’m gonna bring my laptop to NZ to try to keep up with it all, but I’m just kinda nervous that I’ll forget stuff. But if I do, then…it weren’t that important anyway.
Now, I thank you all for the comments you’ve given me in the past. I really want this to be an interactive thing, and you’ve helped me make it that way. For those of you who haven’t commented, please view this post as a guestbook. All I want is to know who’s reading…it helps me with my writing. Just leave your name as a comment, it would be huge for me. Thanks!
Oh, and here are a couple of pics below. Proof I’ve been doin’ stuff!
The parents and I 600 meters above the Jamison Valley on a tram in the Blue Mountains.
Tomorrow the parents come. MAN! They’re in the air right now, somewhere over the Pacific. I don’t envy them right now.
It’s hard for me to fathom what it’s gonna be like seeing my parents in Sydney tomorrow. I’m to meet them in front of their hotel tomorrow at noon, then we’ll head down to the Circular Quay area to see the Opera House and all that touristy stuff. I just can’t wrap my head around seeing them. It’d be like randomly seeing Nick and Chad jamming on the wharf for a bunch of tourists or running into BR watching Ed and Taylor surfing at Bondi; my mind can’t comprehend it. For nearly three months this place has been my own. I knew literally nobody when I moved here, and there is nothing here from my life back in Oregon except for the suitcase of my belongings.
Then, seeing my parents, who are somewhat the symbol and icon of my life back home, in MY new town; I just don’t know what to think. It will be a collision of worlds. I’ve been on my own here, obviously, and as parents they of course will come in and want to parent. And I understand this. I’ve just got to remember that and roll with it.
I’m kind of looking at it as a sort of Round 2 of my Eagle Project, in terms of parental interaction. I worked with my father closely throughout the completion of my Eagle Project and we had to keep reminding ourselves that I was in charge, I was the leader, not him. And it was difficult, as it was the first time in our lives that these roles had been reversed. It was also incredibly intriguing and interesting, as I would say, “No, I think we should do it this way,” or “Dad, please let me do this. I need to be planning this,” things like that, and he had to listen. I’m expecting these next two weeks to be similar to that experience.
I am so pumped though. Many people think I’m kind of strange for being as excited as I am for them to come, but I actually think of my parents as cool people. Fun people, nice people, interesting people. People I would like to hang around with if I wasn’t their son. I think it might be due to the fact that I don’t have siblings. I don’t know how to back this up, but it seems as though, from experience, single children have stronger relationships with their parents then children with siblings.
I can’t wait to show them my life here. What I do everyday, where I go, what I eat, where I shop, my campus, the culture. And they will love my flat mates! Vasya is cooking a fish dinner tomorrow which they’ll be here for, so that should be fun. I’m also gonna bring them Tim-Tams, the best cookie in all of Australia, possibly the world. Dad will love ‘em!
Tomorrow is going to be so exciting! I sure hope I can get some sleep tonight…
Below is our tentative itinerary.
MONDAY—Explore Downtown–Walk around the Circular Quay area(Sydney Harbour Bridge/Opera House) , Botanical Gardens—-Possibly dinner at my apartment, meet roommates, etc.
TUESDAY—Blue Mountains—Leave around 830 am . Have an early lunch around 11am at Mountain Ridge Café (Kangaroo Steak anyone?!), then take the bus all around Blue Mountains.
Wednesday—Finish up Blue Mountains, mess around a little bit in the cute town of Leura, head back into Sydney. Hit up a pub with Reese for some good beer and mussels.
Thursday—BEACH!-Bondi Beach or Manly Beach or Palm Beach or another—you research and choose! I’ve only been to Bondi. Or I can ask around and choose.
Friday—The Aussie Experience-See my side of town. Walk around campus a bit, check out the mall, walk through the neighborhoods, maybe check out a rugby club. Opera House show at 8:00pm. If we want to do dinner at the Opera House, get there at 6, maybe even 5:30. If not, 7:20 or so.
Saturday—Another chill day in Sydney—QVB Building/Hyde Park-Waratah rugby game @ 7:30. Would like to get there at 6:30, 6 if we want to get dinner on the premises.
I took this video a day or two after I arrived in AUS, but haven’t been able to upload it available to slow internet. Just discovered this week that the internet at the Uni is a lot faster. Enjoy!
_______________________________ Click HQ button above after you click PLAY…
The major post previous to this, titled “An Unexpected Relationship” has raised an unexpected amount of emotion and comments/feedback from (wow, how pompous is this gonna sound) my readers. It caused pain for a couple of people whom I care deeply about, and that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. My ignorance in all of this was that by being open the only person that could be hurt would be me; I forgot how all of our lives weave and intersect with each other. I apologize to those people I hurt.
Also, one of the most common questions I’ve received is, “So what did that girl think when she read your blog?” I just kind of chuckle at that and feel a tinge of frustration at people’s assumptions of me. The subject of that blog post proofread that post before it was made public, and I made sure to have her permission about posting it before it went public. It may sound weird to most, but that’s just how our friendship is, incredibly open.
I’m not going to change the way I write because of the fallout I received from that last post. It seems as though that would be…lying to myself, compromising myself. I cannot do that. I will not do that. And I don’t think I need to do that. Just know that from here on out I am going to continue to be open, but I NEVER EVER intend on hurting anyone. This is somewhat of a flaw of mine, if it can even be called such. If I think I have hurt somebody, I feel terrible about it until I feel I have rectified it. Which is why I had a half-hour phone conversation with one of the persons I hurt, as well as an internet conversation with another. Please know my motives are not negative in any way, and if I hurt anyone in the future it is due almost undoubtedly to ignorance.
Alright, now read on to some light-hearted recollections. Below is one of my proudest blog posts to date. Enjoy!
School on Wednesday was a routine day with Bio lab for four hours with my friends Ann, Mina, Derrick and Reese. The only difference was that Mina and I were yelled at by the instructor for talking as we came in late from break. I believe her exact words were “Shut up. Just SHUT UP and SIT DOWN” yelled in the most exasperated, Eastern-European-tinged voice possible. Ugh, slightly embarrassing. But we are known as the “loud” table, so it wasn’t all that surprising. Following that was GEO 262-Australians and their Environment; a class that I attempt to stay awake in, but it seems as though this becomes more difficult as the weeks pass by. On Wednesdays I have a tutorial (recitation) followed by a lecture in that class.
It had rained on and off and was powerfully and ominously overcast. Towards the end of the school day, however, it seemed as though the sun was attempting to poke through. This greatly excited me, and is yet another piece of evidence of God’s existence; it was, of course, the day of the Australia-Uzbekistan World Cup Qualifier game at Stadium Australia, the Olympic Stadium! I didn’t know it at the time, but this was a HUGE game for the Socceroos. If they won and the Bahrain v. Qatar game the following morning resulted in a draw, Australia would be the first team to qualify for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.
After my GEO lecture I raced back to the apartment to get ready. I had bought tickets for two friends, Ryan Priest (from now on referenced as “RP”) from Chicago and Ryan Doucette (referenced as “RD”) from Wisconsin. I took a power nap and waited for a call from RP letting me know that RD had arrived at his apartment. I received the text much later than I had hoped, at around 6:00. The game started at 8:00pm, and I had hoped to leave at around 5:30. It takes about an hour to get to the Olympic Park, so that would have given us some time to chill and casually get some food. Whatever. I met them at the station around 6:20 or so.
I love RP and RD. I’ve talked about RP before, he’s the first guy I met and actually had a legitimate conversation with here in Australia. We became friends from day one. RD is in our group of American friends as well, and he is on the Macquarie soccer team. It was good having him at the game in case I had any questions. (That’s of course in addition to his coolness…haha.) We had gone out the night before to see Watchmen, a ridiculous movie, but still my first movie in Australia. It was a surprise for me to be invited because they had been doing things without me, so that helped my confidence a bit.
Man where we pumped! We took group pictures at every train station.
Train Station 1
Train Station 2
Our excitement level seemed to increase at the same level as the Australia Socceroos fans that we came upon; at each stop the throngs of yellow-wearing ‘roo faithfuls increased exponentially.
We had a lot of fun on the train, let me tell you! We made fun of one another, and I made myself look somewhat like a racist pig, much to the delight of the Ryans. To explain this I first have to give you some back-story. This past week I was hanging out with Mona (like always ), and I met two of her guy friends from her high school. I hadn’t shaved in maybe a week or a week and a half, so I was kinda hairy/dark in the face. (Oh, guys, I’m starting to be able to connect my chin and jaw facial hair with my mustache! THIS IS HUGE!) We were talking about gangs or something in America, and one of the guys jokingly asked me if I was in a Hispanic gang. I’ve gotten this before; apparently I look Hispanic when I don’t shave for a while. Now, this frustrates me, but not because I don’t like Hispanics. It frustrates me because I am proud of my heritage and my ethnicity, and I don’t like being misrepresented. I don’t know…is that racist? I also find it funny.
So I was on the train recounting this story and talking about how people think I’m Hispanic when I don’t shave. I thought they’d find it funny, which RP did. But RD saw who was sitting next to me, and just said, “Peter!” kinda motioning to stop talking. I didn’t care, and kept on with the story, until he kinda made me feel stupid and I stopped. I looked over my shoulder and saw a group of Hispanic young men. Wow. Felt like an idiot. But was I being racist? It was a bit awkward as we disembarked, although they didn’t look at me weird or say anything. We had a bunch of laughs later about it though…
We finally arrived at the Olympic Park Station and followed the sea of yellow, coming upon Stadium Australia.
Olympic Park Station
We snapped a few photos and walked around a bit. At this time it was a 7:20 or so. It was a carnival-like atmosphere, only saturated with alcohol. Mardi Gras is a good way to describe it, sans flashing. Many food stands were set up, the night clubs were blaring music, a live band was playing, and people were EVERYWHERE. I would come to learn later that there were 67,000 of us there…whew!
The throngs of fans with the stadium in the background.
We headed over to get some Makkie’s (McDonald’s) but the line was literally 100 feet or so long. We high-tailed it back to a burger place we had come across earlier, which was much less crowded. It was at that point, running through the park to the burger place, that it began to rain. Well, rain is a bit of an understatement. Thirty seconds in this rain left parts of my jeans wet all the way through. UGH. So much for the rain holding off!
The burger I had was epic, let me tell you. An Australian beef pattie with fried egg, beetroot, pickles, lettuce, tomato, and I think bacon if I’m not mistaken. And hot chips of course. We hurried through our burgers, but at one point we just resigned to being late to the game and decided to enjoy our meals. However, when we neared the end of our massive burger-consumption experience we realized that it was 7:51pm and we might actually be able to make it to the stadium on time. We finished and began to jog towards the stadium.
Cheers began to emanate from the stadium so the jog turned into a sprint through the ever-increasing rain. We made our way through the turnstiles and RD exclaimed, “This is us! 123!” We were on the ground level, which surprised me. I thought we had good seats, but not THIS good! It was comparable to going to a Blazer’s game and sitting three or four rows back; we were about 50 feet from the beginning of the field, in the corner. Best seats in the house. And for $44AUD apiece!
First Views of the Stadium
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This is how close we were. That's my knee on the right...
We arrived just in time for the national anthems. What an atmosphere, people all jacked up and excited to see their teams play. The rain ceased as if on cue, and we took in the scene that was about to consume us.
Australian National Anthem
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The Crew. Ryan Priest, Ryan Doucette and myself
I just kind of sat there in wonderment and amazement throughout the game. The highest level of soccer I’d seen was college women’s, and I’ve been watching the World Cup additively the past two tournaments. To see players of this caliber (even though they weren’t European or South American) was just incredible.
Gameplay
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Also, the crowd fascinated me. I kept on coming back to the metaphor of the crowd as an organism; an amoeba that encircled the playing field. You could hear it collectively get restless, excited, frustrated, and angry. When the excitement rose it literally felt like water gathering to form a tsunami; it kept on getting bigger and bigger, louder and louder, and when the first goal was scored it was as if the tsunami had made landfall. You could almost feel it breathe…it was amazing.
‘Ole’
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This video is from the second half, but illustrates pretty well what I’m trying to describe…
The first half ended scoreless. We were pretty jacked up, and there were some close calls, but the Socceroos were attacking the goal opposite to us so we knew the best was yet to come. I ran outside into the concession area trying to beat the crowd, and came upon the memorabilia store. Those who know me know that I love to buy memorabilia at special events such as these; for some reason I feel like it will legitimize the experience and memory even more if I have something that I can look at that reminds me of the event. I know this is flawed thinking, but it’s how I am.
Half-time Crowd in the Bowels of the Stadium
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I bought a cool Socceroos flag attached to a pole to wave around (for only $15!!!), as well as a special gift for someone who doesn’t yet exist. (So, if you exist, I’m sorry…) I really was looking for a scarf but they were sold out at the two locations I checked. Oh well, if I see them play Bahrain June 10th I’ll have one before then.
I made my way back to my seat a tad late, again missing the Socceroos come out of the tunnel. Whatever. Turns out that both Ryans had decided to get the large Soccerroo flags. Pretty funny! The rain started to pick up again, so RD broke his out and we used it as a shield. Not that it helped, being made out of cheep nylon. But it was fun anyway, draping ourselves in the Socceroos’ flag.
The ‘roos kept on getting closer to scoring with each passing minute. It seemed as though they kept sophomoric-ally screwing up on their attacks, frustrating the crowd to no end. They got a few corners, which was incredibly exciting. It was on our side, and as we were next to the crazy cheering section the place just went wild. Everyone stood up and got loud and cheered, then held their collective breaths. When the attack went awry the previously-described amoeba let out a short scream/whimper of pain and took its seat at once.
Ahhhhhh…
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The first goal came off a cross, a header by a streaking forward who entered the game a mere few minutes previous to his heroics. (I’m such a newbie with soccer that I actually had to google “soccer positions” to come up with ‘forward’…) Man was it tight! I think I might have been caught behind the camera for that one, maybe not. It was just kind of a blur. The place erupted with cheers, and the forward ran to our corner, in front of us, and wiped off the rain/sweat from his brow with the corner flag.
Thanks to Ryan Doucette for the photo.
Thanks to Ryan Doucette for the photo.
We all yelled in ecstasy, maniacally waving our flags. It was my first legit, high-level goal, and man was it memorable. So much fun. To be a part of a crowd erupting with such glee and euphoria was intoxicating. What a moment!
I know, ridiculous. It was such an incredible moment!
GOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!
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Seven minutes later Uzbekistan committed a foul in the box, yielding a penalty kick for Australia. And, in turn, another goal. Do you guys think it was a foul? RD, whose playing soccer for Macquarie, said it was a bogus call…check it out below.
Setting up for the penalty. Thanks to Ryan Doucette for the photo.
After this it was pretty much game over. There were a few scares from Uzbekistan, but as the game entered its 90th minute all was joyous. We left about two minutes early, something that I regret. I really wanted to see the Aussies celebrate their victory and erupt into chaos, but we had to get to the train station before the other 66,999.
As we exited the stadium the downpour began. The weather was quite amazing during the game itself. We were so close to the field that we weren’t under the cover, so it could have been miserable. The soccer gods kept us dry, though, and there were only a few instances of rain, which we somewhat joyously endured; it added to the atmosphere! (And gave us a reason to cover ourselves with the Socceroo flag!) It was as though water was sloshing out of a cistern, and at the end of the game it was overturned. (Too much of a metaphor? haha.) It was somewhat comical to see thousands of people reach for their hoods/parkas at exactly the same time. How lucky we were to have the weather behave! It was probably 68º throughout the match. Perfect.
The Wave
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I sound EXACTLY like my dad on this. EXACTLY! It’s kinda eerie…
We began to sprint through the rain, only stopping to take a few pictures of ourselves with our flags. As I ran I held the flag up, as if I was running to claim land for the motherland. I felt like such an Aussie!
After a little while we figured out we were running the wrong way. What a bummer that was! We left early for no reason!!!
Anyway, after about half an hour we finally pushed our way onto a train, made it back to Strathfield, then took the train to our pseudo-home base of Epping Station. We waited for a bus there, all the while joking about a certain person’s flatulence on the train, my ridiculous Hispanic story, RP looking like a gangster in one of our group pictures, and RP mistakenly refusing a guy a dollar that he actually had, even though our ticket got us free transportation. (Had to have been there. We were giddy and all that was absolutely hilarious.) The night turned out to really be a good bonding time for all of us, it was wonderful. I’m looking forward to doing more stuff with them in the future. I departed the train at my stop, entered the apartment, conversed with Vasya about the game, and proceeded to end my magnificent night.
This has nothing to do with the night, but it’s interesting. For the Easter Break RD and RP have rented an RV and are driving through New Zealand by themselves with three other guys. They are going to a place they’ve never been, driving on the other side of the road, and have no plans for food. And man, I wish I was doing it with them! It was disappointing to not be invited, but I think it was a spur-of-the-moment thing with other friends. And it wouldn’t have worked out anyway because my parents are coming and I want to show them around SYD. Anyway, thought that was quite intriguing. What memories they’ll make!
Just a quick note…Bahrain did defeat Qatar 1-0, so the Socceroos have not officially qualified for the World Cup. They need one more point. The day after this game I got tickets, along with Vasya and Heat, to the game versus Bahrain on June 10th. I am so pumped for it! Now I HAVE to get a scarf!
Hey parents,
this is what I got out of dozing through that woman’s photography presentation at that plant meeting. i hope it would make her proud.
the b&w version is cooler, but I’m too tired at the moment. headed to the blue mountains early in the morning for more shooting, so keep on the lookout for more pix soon…
So, it’s the night of/after the game, and it was incredible! I’m working on a blog post now, but I’m too tired to finish it…it should be up this weekend.
I’ve uploaded pics from the night tho…check them out here.
Also, I’ve posted a short and interesting article on the game below…its from The Brisbane Times…check it out.
Socceroos head for Cup finals
Michael Cockerill
April 1, 2009 – 11:33PM
FOR 32 years, the heartbreak, despair, and torment of the Socceroos ritual failure to qualify for the World Cup caught the imagination of the nation.
Last night at Homebush Bay, emotions were tempered as Australia all but qualified for their second successive World Cup, beating Uzbekistan 2-0. It’s a revival which mirrors that of the sport, and that of the team. Same players, same stadium, same outcome.
But unlike November 16, 2005, there was no need for a nerve-wracking penalty from John Aloisi. In those days, as member of the Oceania confederation, Australia were always taken to the edge. These days Australia belongs to Asia, and things are a lot more simple.
Thus the Socceroos, needing a win against Uzbekistan, duly obliged before 57,000 fans who braved the rain.
Second half goals from Josh Kennedy and Harry Kewell against a rapidly tiring Uzbek side – which had only arrived in Sydney on Sunday – did the job.
The journey, which has taken the team to Kunming, Doha, Dubai, Tashkent and Yokohama isn’t over, but the remaining three matches in June are likely to be of academic interest only. By the time you read this the Socceroos, one of the last teams to qualify for the last World Cup, could be the first to qualify for next year’s event in South Africa.
For the players, most of whom were part of the squad which performed with distinction in Germany in 2006, this was an even greater achievement. For coach Pim Verbeek it was an answer to critics of his style, but also an answer to his prayers. The Dutchman has twice gone to the World Cup as an assistant coach (with South Korea) but never as head coach. Normally unemotional, Verbeek’s victory jig at the end told its own story.
Officially, the players and the staff were waiting until the result of Bahrain’s match against Qatar in Manama early this morning before opening the champagne. In truth, as soon as they were back in the dressing room, the celebrations had begun.
“I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn’t know what I would find there.
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there.”
~The Beatles, “Got To Get You Into My Life”
In Fall of 2006 I was a Junior at Churchill High School in Eugene, Oregon, where I played Ultimate Frisbee for the school team. This was my second year on the team and as an upper-classman I was expected to be a leader. (One year doesn’t seem like much, but in high school with a sport as new Ultimate, after 6 months are so you are one of the veterans.)
Practice had just started for the season and we had a boatload of new recruits due to the success of the previous year. One of my roles was teaching new players how to throw, when to cut (running in a sharp angle in order to get free of the defender) and various defensive techniques.
Most people have the general throw down, which us Ultimate players call a ‘backhand’. What is more difficult, however, is the forehand, thrown on the opposite side of the body. Because of the similarities of the forehand to throwing a baseball in regards to the openness of the body, many new Ultimate players attempt to throw the frisbee like a baseball. This, of course, is their demise. It’s all in the flick of the wrist, and this is the most difficult part of Ultimate to learn.
A few practices in I noticed a very attractive girl having difficulties throwing a forehand while tossing with a friend. She was a brunette girl, about 5″4′ with an athletic build. For some reason this memory had been branded in my brain: She wore a white, form-fitting tank top, black Nike shorts with teal trim and brand new, stunning silver and blue Puma cleats. I approached her and asked her if she needed some help. As not being able to perform one of the fundamentals of a sport is embarrassing, she was eager for my assistance. I reiterated the method of throwing the forehand for her, explaining the need for the disc to be released flat, with much wrist and ‘no arm’…as well as sliding in a few flirtatious quips and (stupid) self-deprecating jokes. I stood back and watched proudly as her technique improved, and I could sense her happiness in her progression.
Over the next few weeks I continued to see her at practice and my subliminal flirting continued. I quickly learned that she was a freshman, so she immediately became off-limits. But, as I am a flirtatious and out-going person, the interest never died.
She suddenly stopped coming to practice. When I questioned her friend, she replied that she had found it too conflicting with her ballroom dancing. (Her friend, who she actually had dragged to Ultimate, turned out to be an incredible player who recently represented the United States in the 2008 World Junior Ultimate Championships, which America won.) That was the end of her Ultimate career.
At school shortly after her departure from Ultimate I ragged her a bit about quitting, throwing in a few flirtatious barbs here and there. I continued to see her, albeit rarely, throughout the rest of my time at Churchill, mostly in passing in the halls and chatting sparingly on Facebook. I continued to have a forbidden crush on her but decided that a romantic relationship was impermissible, only allowing myself to gaze at her beauty from afar.
Roughly four years later I found myself sitting in the Eugene airport, my flight having been delayed for a couple of hours. I had previously tagged her in a note where I spoke of my plans for my Australia blog. The following is her reply and the consequent discussion it spawned…
Chloë Potter wrote
at 8:29am on February 4th, 2009
wwwhhattt?? why you always doing stuff I want to do???? First alaska to take care of dogs, now australia? The place i’ve been trying to get to for the past couple years?? you bum! hah how are things?
haha, I pretty much try to figure out what I think you would like to do, then do it myself. its how i roll I’ve been pretty good, been volunteering at Bush Animal Hospital, gettin some dough for the trip and doin photog. How have you been? I don’t think I’ve talked to you in person for years! How’re things with the boy?
Chloë Potter wrote
at 10:13am on February 6th, 2009
Wow, that’s awesome! Seriously, I think that’s what you do! You probably talk to my friends or something of that sort haha. You’re a lucky guy, I’m excited for you! I’ve been alright…haven one of those months with the bad luck and all, but hey, what can you do? Someone broke my windshield and then today i found my convertable top ripped open and my ipod gone. I’m damn lucky they didn’t do any other damage though, like really. On a positive note, things with the boy are good haha. How have you been? It has seriously been years!
As I was biding my time in the thrilling local airport I decided to break out my laptop. Of course the first website I visited was Facebook, and to my pleasure and surprise Chloë was on! I initiated the conversation, and we talked for about 45 minutes, by the end of which we had come to the conclusion that we were getting coffee when I returned to the States. (We later came to the realization that neither of us particularly enjoyed coffee.) I was excited to have reunited with a friend!
I arrived in Australia and a few days passed before I made contact with her again. And yes, it occurred on Facebook. I was checking in on my friends and found out through the Facebook feed that she had broken up with her boyfriend. While we were chatting in the airport (via Facebook) we touched on the topic of significant others. She voiced a few frustrations and indicated that she felt her relationship with her current boyfriend seemed to be nearing its cessation. Therefore it wasn’t all that shocking when I heard about her relationship ending. I felt that I should reach out to her nevertheless, to make sure everything was ok.
Truthfully, this was not my complete motive. I have a cousin who is 22 who has the absolute best boyfriend. If he lived in Eugene we would be best friends, the guy is just wonderful. And, by the way, he is the only wonderful boyfriend that she has had, so we are all very excited for her! Anyways, I remember talking to her about how she scored her amazing catch, and she gave me some advice. She told me that when you find somebody, it doesn’t matter whether they are single or not; the person having the status of ’taken’ just complicates things a bit. At the time my cousin met her current boyfriend he was unavailable, occupied in his own relationship. My cousin maintained a friendship with her future boyfriend anyways, and when he broke up with his girlfriend my cousin was the first one there for him, comforting him. This showed him that she truly cared for him.
Now, don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t some devious plan of mine to finally win the girl that I had subconsciously had a surreptitious crush on for four years. It was a way for me to talk to a friend and make sure she was okay, while keeping all my options open with her.
This initial reaching-out set off a maelstrom of correspondences. We began by discussing her breakup and her reactions and feelings about it. I feel as though one of my strengths is talking to people about their interactions with others, analyzing their relationships and giving useful insight. I consider it fun to help others through these difficult times. It does seem a bit dark, for me to have fun at the expense of another, but it’s more about me helping that person than anything.
We Facebook-messaged each other 15 times before deciding to take our virtual pen pal-ing to Gmail. From there, and I kid you not, we have compiled 60 e-mails between the two of us (this is my 47th day here in Oz…) Our average length of correspondence is around 600 words or so. We have discussed relationships, occupations, school, travelling, hobbies, sex and sexuality, openness, bodily functions (thought you’d like that in there, Chloë!), my blog, parents, religion, abortion, interesting books, what we’re going to do together when I return, exercising, meditation, music, Australia, bikes, photography, our daily activities, cancer and our ridiculously numerous similarities. Plus more, it’s just too much to go over. We regularly pose questions to each other ranging from philosophy-based queries to questions such as “How many kids do you want in the future and why? and where would you raise them?”
It really is extraordinary what we have covered in our e-mails, and if my dream of having this blog published seems to be realistic I may lift passages from them. It is almost like a blog, as we are being incredibly open and blunt with each other. And that is the key to our relationship: the openness. We both are incredibly open people (I am to a fault) and are relatively non-judgmental of each other. As the relationship has progressed we have found and propagated trust in one another, and it is reflected in the deepness and frankly emotionally-vulnerable subject matter we discuss. It is a one-of-a-kind relationship.
The e-mails have also added a very significant component to my experiences here in Australia. It is somewhat of a therapy for me; I spill out my thoughts and ideas nightly, flirt with a girl whom I am interested in, and basically debrief the day. Then, every morning I wake up excitedly to see how her day was, her reactions to my inquiries and adventures, and whatever else she decides to delight me with. It really has added a new layer of excitement and intrigue to this experience!
Just last week we exchanged phone numbers, and we have begun to text each other. She told me she literally jumped and squealed when she received her first text message from me; it’s quite cool to get casually texted from another continent/hemisphere.
Things have really progressed this past month, especially recently. Tonight we talked on Skype, the first time we had verbally communicated in nearly three years. It was absolutely wild. Most of you seasoned Skypers will know this, but for the first five or ten seconds or so there is only audio, no video. Chloë was at her friends, as she doesn’t have a web cam. As the connection went through they both began to talk, and I didn’t know which of the voice’s was Chloë’s! At that point it really struck me how unique this was. I hadn’t heard her voice in ages, yet we had bared our souls to one another.
The conversation was a bit awkward, as Skype usually is, but it was a tad magnified by the presence of her friend. She is a wonderful girl and it was great to meet her. It was just a little bit weird and frustrating because after all this time I wanted to talk to Chloë and only Chloë.
She looked different to me, which was a major plus. It was a ‘major plus’ in the sense that she looked more mature, more womanly and less girly than I remembered her. Her face was somewhat harder and sharper, a transformation from the somewhat roundish faces of a child or young teenager. (I do understand that describing someone as ‘hard’ or ‘sharp’ usually doesn’t invoke flattering imagery, however these are the only words that fit my feelings.) In short, her features were more distinct. And her beauty just dropped me. I had seen recent pictures of her on Facebook, but it was surprising how much more beautiful she looked on Skype…as a living, breathing person.
Even though we had shared over 75 e-mails we spoke for an hour and a half, which went by as if it was twenty minutes. It was absolutely magical to see her and hear her voice, but it was also painful. I was so close to her, yet (as the cliché goes) so far away. I felt like I could reach out and touch her, but as I tried all I got was a stupid LCD screen.
As we pay for Internet on a gigabyte plan, similar to that of a cell phone and minutes, I couldn’t talk to her forever. I finally broke the news to her that I should be going, and we attempted to close the connection. What a hard goodbye, let me tell you! She had been telling me that she was going to be getting a web cam for weeks, so I wasn’t all that confident that she was going to get one soon. When would I see her next? I finally hit ‘End’ and that was that. I was high for the rest of the day!
The e-mails continued and the relationship has continued to evolve. It is true that I have developed (or retained) romantic feelings for her, but I am determined to not let it dictate my actions here in Australia (and I intend to alert her to this in the next e-mail, which, incidentally, I am going to write in about twenty minutes). In the month leading up to my departure from the Northern Hemisphere I had the beginnings of a romantic relationship but had to tell the girl that I was absolutely, 100% going to be single when I left for Australia. I am holding true to myself and my word.
This is truly one of the most unique things, relationship-wise, that I have ever experienced or heard. It has added a new component to my Australia trip, a new and exciting layer that keeps this life of mine intriguing. No matter how things end up when I return, and even if the e-mails stopped tomorrow, we will have created a memory that I will never forget. That is the only sure thing in all of this.
Please give me some feedback on this post…it’s a new way of writing these blog posts, much more intensive, but I hope easier and more enjoyable to read, even though this one was long. More of these, or less? Do you enjoy the vomiting of feelings and experiences, or the thought out, story-like posts? And don’t worry, the pictures won’t go away. I’m just trying to write the way I am thinking of editing the previous posts in order to compile them into a book.
This past Friday was a wonderful day, which was somewhat of a surprise to me; I wasn’t expecting it to be much. I had been planning on visiting the Blue Mountains, but those plans were dashed due to the fact that I had to submit a paper that morning at 9am. I woke up at 8 to get the paper turned in on time, then returned to my room and fell asleep until about 11:30.
As I was walking to class to turn in the paper I was so comforted… it was finally raining! My Aussie friends think that I’m a bit crazy because I’ve been hoping for rain. In Eugene this time of year it rains about three times a week, so to be in a place where it doesn’t rain for weeks, with incredible, sunny weather just puts me on edge. I’m not kidding! I feel a little stressed and annoyed, and when it rains and the air gets all thick and cool, ahh…I am at home.
I met Mona on campus at around 12:30 and had a burger and hot chips. Normally these would be mundane details, but I’ve got to explain the hot chips! Yes, it is true that they are just french fries, but man are they good! They put some kind of garlic salt on them, along with a bit of sugar, and the tomato sauce (ketchup) is sweetened with sugar as well. Those are some of the best fries I’ve had!
After eating we tossed the disc a bit. I attempted to teach her forehand and she surprisingly got it down quickly! She was having such a great time with it, saying “Oh, this is so much fun!” and being shocked when I threw an inside-out or any throw other than a straight-forward backhand or forehand. It was great!
She had to leave after a little bit, but my friend Reese texted me and invited me to the UBar (University Bar) at three to have a beer with a coworker of his. I had one beer while they downed 4 or 5, and talked about everything with them. It was cool meeting Ashley. She’s a kindred spirit. She’s incredibly open about everything, almost as if she’s one of the boys, but hot, and able to speak about anything with ease. Oh, and she has a bf, so yeah. (Thanks Reese! You introduce me to all these babes, who just happen to be taken. UGH.)
As they kept drinking the conversation naturally turned to one of sex and sexuality. As they were talking they would look at me, in a sort of “You know what I mean?” way. After a few of these looks I said, “You know, this will probably blow you away, but I’m actually a virgin. So…”
“I can see that”, Reese quipped. He has been somewhat surprised of my lack of experience with drinking, therefore the lack of sex made sense. I wasn’t made fun of or bagged on. They just said things like, “Sometimes I wish I’d have waited,” and kept on repeating, “That’s hard. That’s hard.”
At one point I was advised to continue to wait, as I had made it this far. I thought that was quite profound. How rare is it for people to say something of that nature, instead of trying to tear you down by talking about how amazing sex is and how weird you are for being a virgin. These people are true friends. (They did end up saying, though, “You should lose your virginity to someone in Australia!!! That would be so awesome!” Yeah, to somebody I would probably never see again. Awesome.)
At around 6 or 6:30 Reese and Ashley decided that they had had enough. Reese wanted to drunkenly throw the disc around so we walked out to the lawn area. Boy did it pain me to play catch with them, let me tell you! I attempted to teach Reese how to throw a forehand, but his throws just kept on blading into the grass. It was a new disc before last night, but alas, not anymore. After a while it started to get dark and a little chilly so we headed inside.
At this point it was about 8:00 pm and the stomachs started to growl. We headed to The Ranch, a hotel/club/grill for a bite, and Reese proceeded to spill a full beer on himself. His American cousin Sean met us there. He’s a pretty cool dude, and it was good to have a fellow American there to join me in saying, “You say it like THAT? That’s now how you’re supposed to say that!” The plan was to go to a birthday/house party, but as the pasta wasn’t sitting too well with me I felt as though I should head back. I thought about it a bit more and decided that I should go to the party even if I felt like crap. I hadn’t been to an Australian house party yet and felt that I needed to go. (Once again, another example of my personal transformation. In the past I would have played it safe and went home, but I thought, “If I don’t go to this I will regret it. And what’s the worse that can happen?” I’m proud of myself!)
Ashley and I at The Ranch.
The party was pretty lame (as Reese had warned) but it nevertheless was an awesome experience. Sean is from the East Coast so it was cool going to a party completely representing America…West Side and East Side! They were pumpin’ Kanye’s Late Registration, so there was a comfort factor in that, and I met a few people that I will be seeing again next week at Reese’s 19th-birthday blowout. There were a few people dancing, but it was mostly a party of talking and drinking. I had some wonderful homemade Sushi as well, and even though I felt physically terrible from the pasta it was still a good time.
Reese, Ashley and I at the party.
The dynamics of an Australian house party (at least this house party) are much different than what we have on campus in America. Here virtually no uni students live on campus, therefore most “house parties” are at a parent-owned residence. This was the case last night. The girl’s mom and dad were there, as well as her grandmother!
Another difference is the drinking age. It was very weird for me to see people younger than myself walking around with beers in front of parents and grandparents, but, as it is legal, apparently it is also chill. I don’t know if it is the people or the culture, but it also seemed as though getting drunk wasn’t the point of the party, which many times is the case in America. Though I have heard my Aussie friends say, “Let’s get f***ed up tonight!” It must just have been the people…I’ll report back as I go to more Aussie parties!
Looking back on that night, that experience really made me feel as though I’m assimilating with the Australian people instead of just being on campus and playing the role of a tourist. This is why I am here. It is fun to go to the zoo, take a million pictures of the Opera House and go to the Rocks, but you learn so much more and it is so much more fulfilling when you immerse yourself in legitimate Australian culture. These experiences are what make truly lasting memories.
Oh, and I also rode shotgun for the first time in Oz. It was very weird as I felt I should have been driving, sitting on the left side of the car. Trippy!
Got my marks back for that paper I posted on here last week, my paper for Australians and their Environment. Turns out I got a D! D stands for Distinction, the only mark higher is an HD, which is High Distinction, and, according to Will, that mark is reserved for “geniuses”. I don’t think I’ve met anyone yet who has gotten an HD on anything…
Here's my mark and comments. Super proud of them comments!
I was also notified by Will yesterday that we had an 850-word essay where we were to compare and contrast two essays…due tomorrow. At 9am. Just finished that at around midnight, so here it is…More proof that I’m workin’!
Discussion Paper
Australia is an incredibly vast and diverse country, and its history and culture is no exception. From the Aborigines to the ‘settling’ of Australia by the British, the history is truly fascinating. After reading the essays “Being Shaped by the Stories We Choose from our History” by Rodney Hall and “The Blessed Country: Australian Dreaming 1901-2001” by John Carrol, I feel as though I understand the two opposing views of the nation/continent that is Australia.
Rodney Hall’s article concerns itself with the hand-picked history of Australia versus the actual history of Australia. He writes of his youth when his school used a textbook with “Australian history start(ing) with Captain Cook in 1770” (Hall n.d., cited in Mills 2001). Hall goes on to recommend that what Australian history text books should begin with is “Once upon a time there was the land which had been someone else’s for a very long time” (Mills 2001). In Hall’s point of view the Aborigines did indeed own the land they inhabited for thousands of years.
John Carrol, on the other hand, concerns himself with spelling out the greatness and uniqueness of the “New Australians”, from the English who came after 1770 to all of the immigrants of the present. It takes him a full 17 paragraphs before he even writes the word ‘Aboriginal’, and when he does mention them he lightly touches on the issue of Aboriginal mistreatment, describing it as “the exception to Australian inclusiveness” (Carrol n.p., cited in Mills 2001). He then quickly gets on to the selection of Cathy Freeman, an Aboriginal woman, as “national ambassador to light the torch at the 2000 Olympic Opening Ceremony” (Carrol n.p., cited in Mills 2001). This sums up Carrol’s essay; he writes about Australian exceptionalism while briefly covering the damaging and torturous deeds the “settlers” invoked upon the Aborigines.
Both writers touch on the topic of immigration, coming to opposite and conflicting conclusions. Carrol, in the uniform tone of his essay, writes that “the vast immigration of peoples from hundreds of different backgrounds has been overwhelmingly successful. The host society has…been welcoming and exceptionally tolerant of diversity.” (Carrol n.p., cited in Mills 2001). From this it sounds as if Australia is an immigrant’s dream, a utopian melting pot welcoming of every creed and race.
Hall, however, has a different take on this. He brings up the issue of the White Australia policy. In October 1949, the former Labor Minister of Immigration, Arthur Calwell, wrote a pamphlet titled ‘I Stand by White Australia’ (Hall n.d., cited in Mills 2001). “In it he vehemently argues against the idea of admitting even a quota of Asian migrants” (Hall n.d., cited in Mills 2001). John Carrol’s essay is a perfect example of what Rodney Hall is trying to prove; countries are shaped by the histories they choose. Carrol is choosing to write of Australia as a very welcoming place in regards to immigrants, but it turns out that less than 60 years ago the Labor Minister of Immigration was trying to close the borders to a specific race.
As is usually the case, the truth of the matter of what Australia truly is and what is should be characterised as such lies somewhere in the middle of both these arguments. It is true, as Hall states, that Australians have a well-founded guilt of what happened in the past due to the idea that the land they own was essentially stolen. If Australia is to be real with itself it must come to grips with its tarnished past in the same way that America has dealt with its horrid past of slavery and racism towards African-Americans. The historical facts of the colonisers’ treatment of the Aborigines must be recognized and taught, and those Aborigines who desire the same opportunities as white Australians must have these rights awarded to them.
Carrol does, for his part, have many valid assertions. In much of his writing he explains the uniqueness and outgoing nature of the people of Australia, which one experiences in every neighborhood and city of Australia. He writes that “the elemental human interaction is less governed by ritual predictability or the platitudes of formality” (Carrol n.p., cited in Mills 2001). Sydneysiders, and Australians on the whole are generally interested in what a foreigner has to say, and this is very unique and refreshing.
He also describes a “strange something in the air-both elusive and welcoming” (Carrol n.p., cited in Mills 2001). There truly is something special and unique about Australia, something intangible and inexplicable. One feels it as one walks about; it is a mystical and spiritual place. It is as if one can feel the blessings that the Aborigines gave to the land and the love they have for it.
The juxtaposition of these two essays is fantastic, and gives one a real sense of the issues that Australia struggles with. Australia is a fantastic land with unique and wonderful people. It is also true that much of the history of Australia has been hand-selected with the unflattering details all but expunged from the Australian consciousness. The synthesis of these two articles would illustrate the complete condition of the Australian citizen when dealing with their feelings towards and the realities of the past.
References
Mills, J., 2001 The Alfred Deakin Lectures, ABC Books, Sydney.
I don’t know if I could be more proud of Antony. Him and I were best friends in middle school, but grew apart in high school. I love that kid, he’s a great guy.
Posted to Web: Wednesday, Mar 25, 2009 11:23PM
Appeared in print: Thursday, Mar 26, 2009, page C4
News Updates: Story
With Oregon coach George Horton still absent as he serves a three-game suspension, two Churchill High School graduates stepped to the forefront Wednesday as the Ducks snapped a three-game losing streak with a 6-4 win over Sacramento State and PK Park.
The former Lancers who made major contributions to the victory were designated hitter Antony Kreitz, with a three-run homer in the fifth inning, and second baseman Josh Hogan, who seemed to fit right in as Oregon’s leadoff hitter for the first time and continued to field flawlessly.
“He made three big-time defensive plays that changed the momentum around, or kept the momentum going our way,” said Oregon assistant coach Mike Kirby, in charge with Horton missing his second game for bumping an umpire last weekend.
Hogan also contributed offensively by scoring Oregon’s final two runs, working his way on base with a walk and being hit by a pitch, then using his speed to get into scoring position.
“He’s just a really hard-nosed player,” Kirby said.
That description was later used for Kreitz, and there are some other definite links. According to Kirby, both “begged” their way into being given the opportunity to try out for the Ducks. Each also spent some time in Corvallis with Beavers as teammates, which will make this weekend’s Civil War series with Oregon State a little more meaningful for the former Lancers.
“It’s going to be fun,” Hogan said.
Kreitz spent a season on the OSU roster, but acknowledged that might not have happened if Oregon had reinstated baseball prior to his 2007 graduation from Churchill.
“I grew up loving the Ducks,” Kreitz said. “There’s no other place I’d want to play, especially playing with (Hogan). We’ve been playing together since sixth grade … we’ve been good friends that whole time and then we finally get to play on the same (college) team. It’s awesome.”
Hogan was a 2006 Churchill graduate who attended Mount Hood Community College for two years and then was a teammate of several current Beavers on the Corvallis Knights team last summer. Though he also “grew up a Duck fan,” he’s still coming to grips with the idea of playing for Oregon.
“I can’t explain it (but) it’s weird to see Duck fans at a baseball game … it’s just awesome,” Hogan said.
Oregon fans seemed to appreciate his efforts as well. Though going hitless Wednesday dropped his average to .282, Hogan offered offense anyway with a stolen base and the two runs scored. And then there’s his defense.
The game began with the second baseman diving to field a grounder in short right field that turned a potential single into an out. Later, he barehanded a one-hopper that took a tricky hop away from his glove side. Another one of his assists came when he fielded a ball hit to his right, went into a slide on his knees to stop his momentum from carrying him beyond second base, and threw out the runner.
With five assists and a putout Wednesday, Hogan has had 31 fielding chances this season without an error. All that has made Hogan a starter in the past six games after he started in four of Oregon’s first 16 games.
“In our program, one thing is for sure: everything is earned so whether you’re a scholarship player or a walk-on, you come and earn a spot and he’s earned one,” Kirby said.
“I was just waiting for my chance to come,” Hogan said. “Everybody on this team is just doing everything they can to get the win, do everything they can for the team.
“I started out as the dugout captain. Most people might not be happy about that, but I take that and I think everybody else takes their role very seriously, to do what they can to get the team a W.”
Kreitz is definitely serious, and he did what he could with that three-run homer that put the Ducks ahead 4-1. Though his average is still only .211, two of his four hits have been home runs at PK Park.
“Whenever I get the chance, I’ve got to use it,” Kreitz said.
Guessing from his previous at-bat how he would be pitched, and with an Oregon pitcher on the bench advising him similarly, Kreitz watched a curve go by and then “knew a fastball was coming. … He put it right there. I hit it square, (and) I knew I hit it hard, but I didn’t think I had enough loft on it. I thought it would at least hit the fence.”
Three runs on one swing led to a five-run fifth inning for Oregon, quite an outburst for a team that had scored one run or been shut out in four of its previous six games. Can there be any doubt that with the game tied, one out and two runners on, Kreitz’s at-bat was the key point in the victory that snapped a three-game losing streak?
“It’s not so much I felt I needed to deliver, it’s just ‘I’m going to hit this ball hard,’” Kreitz said of his thought process. “That’s the only thing I could do and see where it goes. It ended up going over the fence.”
Five Oregon pitchers combined to strike out nine Sacramento State batters, and would have thrown a shutout except for the efforts of Tim Wheeler, who drove in all four runs for the Hornets (12-9). The Sacramento State center fielder, considered one of the top college outfield prospects by professional scouts, raised his average to .416 with three hits, including a sixth-inning home run.
UO REPORT
Oregon 6 Sacramento State 4
Turning point: With the score tied 1-1 in the fifth inning, Oregon designated hitter Antony Kreitz hit a three-run homer.
Noteworthy: After hitting leadoff for the first 21 games, left fielder Caleb Tommasini was moved to third in the order and had one hit in three at-bats with an RBI. He has Oregon’s top batting average at .329. … Second in the Pac-10 in stolen bases entering the week, the Ducks added three and have 40 in 48 attempts. … Blake Williams, a sophomore transfer from Texas, picked up his first collegiate victory by working 22/3 innings of relief. … Drew Gagnier struck out the side in the ninth for his fourth save. … Seats normally reserved for students are available for Friday’s game against Oregon State, priced at $12. Tickets go on sale today at 9 a.m. at the Casanova Center ticket office or by calling 1-800-WEBFOOT.
Next: Ducks play Oregon State in the Pac-10 opener for the Civil War rivals on Friday at 3 p.m. at PK Park.
Radio/TV: KUGN-AM (590) and Comcast Sports Network (Channel 37)
Today there was a pleasant surprise and an unpleasant surprise, and sadly the unpleasant surprise ended up taking the cake. My Australians and their Environment class was canceled, but I was notified by my British friend Will that we had an 850-word paper due on Friday. Now, this wouldn’t have been too bad, but we were supposed to read about twenty pages worth of two opposing arguments and write about their differences, contrasting them. Ugh.
When I arrived home I decided to get immediately to work. After talking with friends on Facebook. And Skyping a fantastic friend for an hour and a half. Oh, and of course after dinner.
I sat down to read the article after having my two future breaks of fun-ness laid out and planned, bracing for monotonous textbook prose. I was happily wrong with my prediction. Turns out the first essay is a fantastically interesting re-examination of the history of Australia, with an emphasis on the idea that nations and individuals choose what kind of history they have without realizing what history actually took place. I came to a passage on guns, and it absolutely threw me for a loop. It’s not all that incredible or anything, but it seemed pretty profound and interesting to me. So here it is…
Taken from Rodney Hall’s essay in “The Alfred Deakin Lectures.”
“I’d now want to add the the ingredient of magic. The usual story then goes on to say that the invasion succeeded because the invaders had superior weapons. Anyone who has fired a flintlock musket will acknowledge that the spear has hugely superior accuracy and about the same range. What made the musket succeed was the factor of fear. It was magic: a bang went off over there and somebody beside you dropped dead. Tribal people had only magic by which to understand this phenomenon. Their fears defeated them, during the half century when vastly superior numbers were on their side.”
Mills, J., 2001 The Alfred Deakin Lectures, ABC Books, Sydney.
Well, I’ve had a sort of epiphany, or idea, or whatever. I’ve gotten good feedback on this blog, and at this point I’m up to about 3100 hits in about three months, which I’m pretty happy about. I’ve thought for a while that it would be cool to have this all printed out when I get back, and in an email to me my dad said the same thing, and offered to pay for it. What I’d like to do, and is kind of a dream, is that when I get back to the states in the summer, do a thorough edit, reformatting with pictures and such, and see if maybe some indie publisher would be interested in carrying it.
What do you think? Please be honest and harsh. Do you think I have a chance? Gina mentioned the idea of a sort of travel memoire, and I think that could work, pages of text with maybe every third having a glossy picture or the pictures corresponding to the text. Is the stuff I write about interesting enough, and the pictures beautiful or intriguing enough, to plunk down $15?
I’ve been reading Russell Brand’s book “My Booky Wook” and have gotten a lot of inspiration from it. He is a world-wide sensation, one of the greatest comics of his time, and it is all due to him being incredibly open about his childhoold, which was very twisted and weird, and open about his current life. Every aspect of it. I have been open up to now on the blog about my feelings and thoughts and what I’m doing, but I think I can, and will, push it further. This is what spawned that last post, a pretty gutsy (If I can say so myself) entry about my interactions with girls.
Now, I don’t have messed up stuff to talk about, but I AM living an interesting life right now, and I think that one of my gifts is writing and the ability to relay experiences through prose. Editing will pick up and openness will intensify. What should I do or write about on this blog that will make it more interesting or intriguing? Anyone? I would love your feedback. And please tell me what you think about my idea. Be harsh, don’t just be nice and be a cheerleader. I want to know actual opinions.
I’ve found myself becoming increasingly passionate about this blog, almost obsessive, where I caught myself writing notes in my Drugs Across Cultures notebook in class today about what I wanted to blog tonight. I check it many times during the day to see the hits, and would just love to get a pingback on some sight with big traffic…thats a minor dream. Ok, I’m so blogged out, I’m about to die. That’s all for now folks.
“Girls, girls, girls, girls
Girls, I do adore
Put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya
Holla at ya when I come off tour
I love girls, girls, girls, girls
Girls all over the globe
I come scoop you in that Coupe, sittin on deuce-zeroes
Fix your hair in the mirror, let’s roll”
~Jay-Z, “Girls, Girls, Girls”
In the last few months before I left, I remember being so pumped for Australia. It felt like a dream, something that wasn’t actually gonna happen. I couldn’t believe I was actually gonna be living in one of the world’s greatest cities, Sydney, for 5 months. So much to do, such great weather, and a complete sea change!
These were all things to be pumped for, but in all honesty I was especially excited for the girls. The common refrain in the dingy, dark, cave-like Corvallis apartment was, “Duuude, you’re gonna get so many girls! ” (but with much more crude and demeaning language). Apparently all that mattered to the girls, we thought, was that I was American, and they would just LOVE my accent! I forgot who said it, but somebody mentioned that this is one of the only instances where I will have a leg-up on Aussie guys, so I better use it. I remember saying and thinking, “Man, if I don’t get girls in Australia, I should just hang it up.”
Well, maybe I should start hanging it up. Haha. I got here all hopped up on confidence, and I think it kinda made me look stupid in a few instances. The first week or so I was VERY jovial and outgoing with girls. Probably too much so, if that’s a possibility. I’m already pretty outgoing, but it was like hunting season! I was in the land of the rabbit-proof fence and these bunnies were cornered!
One of my first instances of this almost blind outgoing-ness was in a T2, a tea shop. I had headed in there to buy my Russian room mates some tea and a tea pot, and a nice and talkative female Sydneysider attended to me. We talked a bit about America, Sydney, and school, and I was getting along very well with her. I remember asking, “Do you have a Facebook? Of course she did! I said, “Well, I’m Peter, and my last name is that” pointing to her credit card-swiping machine. St. George is the name of a bank here, and it really has helped in telling people my last name in order for them to find me on Facebook. I was lucky T2 banked with St. George! We talked a bit more, and I ended up giving her my phone number. We said goodbye with all smiles, and I walked away giddily. Over a month later and no Facebook friend or call.
On the first day I arrived here we stopped off at the International Housing office and I met the absolute cutest girl I’ve ever seen. (I’ve said that many a time, its an expression at this point.) I really felt the urge to go and talk to her and see if there was some way that I could get us into a situation where we could chill and talk. (I’m very confident, even cocky with my one-on-one communication skills. I feel as though if I get most any girl in a situation where we can just talk, that I have a good chance at establishing some kind of positive relationship with her. Although I don’t really have all that much success to base that cockiness off of…) I talked to an Aussie female friend about how I should go about it, and she said to play up the angle of “American foreigner who doesn’t know any Aussies.” So I worked up the courage, and when I had an excuse to go down there, I went with a plan.
I saw her behind the desk and waited until she was free. I approached her and turned in the apartment checklist, then asked a question. Before I left, I said I had one more question. “I haven’t really met any Australians yet, and-”
“When classes start there will be many more on campus, ” she replied, totally not understanding what I was getting at.
“Oh, nice!” I said, trying to recover. “Well, I was kinda wondering if maybe you would be interested in getting coffee and talking or something…” My heart was pounding and I was flushed, just trying to not look stupid, but casual…chill, like a Don. She just kind of blankly stared back, then looked surprised, and said, “Me?!”
“Yeah”!
She kind of looked around, lowered her voice and said, “I really don’t think we’re supposed to do that while we’re at work.”
”Oh”, I replied, trying to brush it off as nothing, and asked her if I could give her my number. She said that probably wouldn’t be ok either.
“I’m a student here, tho, so I’ll probably see you on campus,” she explained, as if trying to give me a hint.
I saw her a few times after that, and it wasn’t weird at all, which was a good thing. Also saw her in the Macquarie Shopping Center…I wanted to ask her if what she told me was an excuse or the truth, but it didn’t really work out. If I see her again I think I will. (Watch her not remember me and then it be totally awkward.) Whatever, I’m over it/her now. It was just kinda funny. (Not towel-caliber tho…)
I have met many girls, beautiful girls, as school has started. Mona and I met on the first day of Bio, and that friendship has become really cool. She has that M.I.A.-like beauty about her. It was a real disappointment when I found out that she had a boyfriend, but I think that fact has made our friendship stronger; there is no real thought or opportunity of anything going there, no alterior motives, so all of our interactions are just carefree, chill and fun.
It’s kind of funny how most of my Aussie friends here are 18 and 19. I’m in mostly first-year classes, so many of my interactions are with 1st years (they don’t know what freshman are here). That has made things a little weird in the beyond-friend relationship area, but its all good. Met some cool girls at Ultimate as well, but the one that I was interested in has a boyfriend, as do most of the girls my age here.
I have a cool friendship with Dulce, though. I have talked about her a bit before. She’s a 21-year old from Mexico City studying to become a type of engineer (Big Red, I need your help. She’s interested in working with assembly-line stuff, making them more efficient. What is that?), and loves math. It was her dream to come here, and I can tell that she is having a great time. She lives in Darling Harbour, which is downtown, about an hour’s bus drive away. We have hung out a bit, and are talking about possibly going to Melbourne and the Blue Mountains. She is awesome, and we have a pretty cool thing going.
So, as you can see, being an American doesn’t really make it all that much easier to ‘get girls’ here. It gives you an ‘in’ in conversations, they dig the way the accent sounds, but thats pretty much it. It’s been a good experience, and I’ve had a lot of fun meeting many Australian girls, as well as other girls, but its not what my room mates and I built it up to be. Which is ok. Really!
So…I have an idea for the blog, and I’m pretty excited about it. I would like to get Jenya on here to write a little bit about what this experience has been like for her, from the Russian perspective. What it was like to come from Russia, the culture shock, if there was one, what being immersed in a new language is like, how it is to take classes in English, etc. Now, she’s not very confident with her English yet, so it may take some coaxing. Here’s where you come in! If you think this is a good idea and would like to hear from her, please comment and let me/her know that. Much like an encore at a concert, please call for this if you want it! A comment as simple as “YES” would work, or you can voice your support. OR say random crap. Whatever. Thanks for your help!!!
Today started out very much a blah day. While being in such an incredible and new place it seems like one is burdened to have absolutely amazing, mind-blowing days every day. And when that doesn’t happen, it puts me in a kind of depressed funk. I’ve never lived in a place like this before (actually, never lived any place other than EUG), so I think I’m still treating it as a vacation, which is incorrect and a mistake. Therefore, if I don’t have a memorable day, it feels like somewhat of a loss, even failure.
Today I talked to my parents for the first time in a few weeks, and it was wonderful to see them! I really got pangs of longing when Dad held Charlie in front of the camera. While we were Skyping he jumped onto the table outside to notify the parents of his desire to come in. That and just seeing him and his cute face…ugh, I need him.
This experience is really making it painfully obvious that I need animal companionship in my life. As I head out for runs I pass a ground-level apartment that has two black labradors. A few weeks ago it just hit me how much I missed that kind of company. I just kinda stood there watching them, with this huge smile on my face. Ahhhhh, I need a furry companion here!
Money is making things a little stressful, so I think that is another one of the reasons for the blahs. It’s kind of a vicious cycle, because to do stuff means money going out. I want to check out Melbourne or get to Uluru, but the flights to those places costs money. (duh). I kinda feel the calling to get a job, but I’m resisting. Should I? Also, I’m having trouble getting in contact with a friend by phone about doing these things, so that’s frustrating.
Not hanging out with the American group and getting drunk with them has kinda hurt me in the long run, I think. Well, probably the medium-run. Ryan and the group headed to Melbourne this weekend…I just heard about it. Whatever. I have made Australian friends while they haven’t. The ones he knows he met through me. Still, it sucks, I wish I could be in that group with them.
For all of this, today was very, VERY important, and kind of helped me to realize the differences of how they are experiencing Australia vs. how I am. When I feel down it always, ALWAYS helps to go for a run. So, I went for a run! Ran through the neighborhood, down to a small river/creek to explore. There was this set of steps that I had seen a few times before and I really wanted to check them out. So I crossed the road and followed them up…turns out they just lead to a street with houses. That was kind of frustrating…I just sat on a rock up there, above the street, and thought some depressing, dark, and scary thoughts.
I decided to head back, crossed the road and bridge again, and saw this little pathway that looked like it headed down to the creek. “Might as well explore”, I thought, and followed the trail. Turns out that this pathway did head down to the creek, but also forked to go alongside it. It was somewhat of a city-sanctioned trail, with little markers of information about the surroundings along the way. One said to keep an eye open for Eastern lizards (I think it might have been the Eastern Water Dragon). Another was underneath a rock outcropping and said that there might have been Aboriginal rock paintings, but it might have been desecrated by graffiti. I was in the bush! (even though it was in a Sydney suburb…)
I walked along the path, which turned out to be approx. 1-2 miles. At first I went quite slowly, because when I walked I saw small lizards scurrying away and it kind of frightened me. It was a scorching 80º outside, but it felt cool and breezy, maybe 68º-ish in the bush area. The water was quite disgusting at points, with trash and such, but it was absolutely beautiful in there, with wonderful trees, birds making a commotion, and the scurrying of lizards at my feet. There were times that I thought about going back, but decided that I wanted to see one of those Eastern lizards.
After about 45 minutes or so I finally reached the end, going without any Eastern lizard sightings.
I had no idea where I was, just another suburb of Sydney, so I decided to check it out a little bit and see if I was closer or further to my home…I had no idea. I walked up the street and came upon a field. Rugby was being played, with supporters in the stands and on the grass, and a restaurant/club overlooking the action. Awesome! I watched the rugbygame for a little bit, maybe ten minutes. Enough time to see them score a bit, see a few hard hits, tackles, and people cheer. I was very thirsty tho, afraid of passing out, and decided I should head back.
I found the trail again, and this time kind of booked it. I saw a weird, shiny/smooth lizard in a tree that was quite interesting, instead of a tail it had kind of a nub…it looked like it was in the evolutionary phase between lizard-with-legs to lizard-without-legs (and lizards without legs aren’t snakes, they’re legless lizards). It was quite cool! Also, passed a woman walking her dog…kinda reminded me of walking Beau through the forest by our house.
I got towards the end of the trail, and heard something that sounded reasonably sizable get spooked and run away. I stopped, then slowly proceeded, and came upon the EASTERN LIZARD! It was absolutely beautiful. It had hopped upon a log, and was just kind of waiting for me to pass. I got about within 5-10 feet of it and just stared at it. It was about two feet long, with half of that being its tail. I saw its eyes move around in its head which was pretty awesome! It looked kinda scaley/spiny, and was a shade of dark brown. I walked past it, and it stayed where it was. Then I saw another scurry away. I had found them!
This is an Eastern Water Dragon. Now, I'm not sure if this is what I saw, as I don't remember the 'Dragon' label, but it looked like this, only darker...I will find out the actual name soon!
I was soo happy to have seen those!! Man! Well, I headed back up the hill and got back into the neighborhoods, happy to be in civilization again. I was a little scared being in the bush! As I was walking I passed two boys, probably around 9 or 10, playing cricket. It made me so happy!!! One boy was standing in front of the wicket holding a bat about half as tall as himself while the other b0y stood in front of a stake in the ground, lobbing the ball at the batter. Once the batter hit the ball, he would run to touch the stake that the bowler was standing in front of, then back to the wicket. I think you get points for how many times you do this. But I’m probably wrong!
I think they thought I was weird, as I just kept looking at them, watching them intently with a smile on my face. To me it was this profound cultural experience, to them just another day, another time of innocent fun. As I was past them the batter hit the ball over the fence. I sooo wanted to hop it and get it for them, an excuse to start up a conversation. But as I headed back towards them they somehow had retrieved the ball.
This is what I was talking about earlier, about how my experiences are different from my American friends. Today I walked along a path that Australians walk their dogs on, stumbled upon a rugby game where Australians go to relax and cheer for their favorite team, saw some incredible native wildlife, and got a glimpse into what Australian kids do to just play and have fun. While I was doing this my friends were in Melbourne, another big city, no doubt a weekend full of booze and tourism. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just different. And I like my experiences! I am here to live like an Australian.
I got back and got some information on the rugby team. I was in the suburb of Eastwood, watching the Eastwood Rugby Club play Randwick at the field named T. G. Millner. Apparently they’re pretty legit. I’m planning on seeing more of their matches…
This is the restaraunt/club area at T.G. Millner, with the field right in front of it.
This is the weblog of Peter St. George, a student from Eugene, Oregon who studied abroad at Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia, from February-July 2009.
), and I met two of her guy friends from her high school. I hadn’t shaved in maybe a week or a week and a half, so I was kinda hairy/dark in the face. (Oh, guys, I’m starting to be able to connect my chin and jaw facial hair with my mustache! THIS IS HUGE!) We were talking about gangs or something in America, and one of the guys jokingly asked me if I was in a Hispanic gang. I’ve gotten this before; apparently I look Hispanic when I don’t shave for a while. Now, this frustrates me, but not because I don’t like Hispanics. It frustrates me because I am proud of my heritage and my ethnicity, and I don’t like being misrepresented. I don’t know…is that racist? I also find it funny.
