Wanderings: Down Under
Here is the photo version of Wanderings: Down Under. A photo book with stories and narration of my travels in Australia and New Zealand is in the works. To read the text from the upcoming book, visit SaintProse.com.
View and purchase Wanderings: Down Under below.
The Beginning
It’s my dream to turn this blog into a book but I’ve long struggled with a beginning. As I’ve laid here tonight, stressing over my midterms in organic chemistry, biology and South Asia studies, I began facebooking my guide from the Red Center, Kate. That inspired me to read my Enter the Red Center post, which got me thinking about the blog and wishing I had time to finish it. Laying in bed at 2:00am spawned this. I think I like it.
“There you go,” the driver grunted, handing me my luggage. “Follow this pathway around the corner, take a left up the steps. Your doorway is the third on your right. Take the stairs to the top, apartment 61. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, I think I got it,” I muttered exhaustedly. I thanked him and he drove off.
I started rounding the pathway, stopped to look about and was hit with a 100-lb ball of reality to the chest. It was as though I was watching myself on a camera. It slowly began to zoom out, picking up speed. First a view of myself slumped over my luggage, then the apartment complex, the suburb of Marsfield, then city of Sydney, and finally Australia as a whole. I started to feel the 7500 miles of ocean between myself and those I loved-heck, those I knew.
Goodbye
Less than an hour ago I said goodbye to Reese, and just a handful of hours ago I hung out with Kel for the last time (for a while). Later on tonight I’m heading to my final game of Ultimate.
Today was a good day, full of weighty goodbyes that set a slightly somber tone. I met Kel at the Mac Centre, as she was shopping for a few books for her trip to America. It was a most unceremonious goodbye; she rushed for the train, gave me a wonderful hug, too quick for emotion, and hopped on the carriage. She remarked that I would see her soon, and I believe her. I waved at her as the train lumbered out of the station, but she missed it, gazing at the floor as she rummaged through her things.
On the heels of her departure I caught a train to Epping, where I met up with Reese and his friend (now mine as well) Andy. They both ride trials, a bike riding sport that involves ‘navigating man-made and natural obstacles’ using only the tires of the bike. Reese wanted to get one last ride in before heading off to America tomorrow, and as time was running out for us to chill, invited me along.
He brought a bike along for me, and after departing the busy train station lugging that beast around, we road along the busy sidewalks, weaving in and out of business men and tourists alike. Over the Anzac Bridge, down into beautiful, clean Darling Harbour under a blazing sun, stupefying the notion that it was winter. The guys messed around on some concrete blocks, then proceeded to a wonderful area full of flowing water and fountains that they were promptly asked to vacate.
We ditched Darling Harbor for a park near Hyde Park, a ‘water garden’ beneath the spires of St. Mary’s Cathedral. Reese was determined to drop from a 15-foot rock fountain onto a metal electrical box, but due to the fact he was flying out to America the next day, smartly decided against it. We grabbed slurpees, then elbowed and pushed our way onto a train carriage at peak hour, bikes and all. I had a man pinned to the wall with my handle bars, it was quite the awkward experience.
The carriage began to thin out as we got further and further from the city. It was difficult to comprehend that this would be the last time I would be seeing Reese for an indefinite amount of time. As the train lumbered to a stop at the Eastwood Station, I knew I had less than five minutes remaining. Standing up, I reached out to Reese, shaking his hand. I thanked him for showing me around Sydney and all he had done for me. Then, reaching Epping, I gave a half-wave and disembarked, the train leaving me behind. And that’s my last memory of Reese Toase.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
These two people, Kel and Reese, were absolutely instrumental in my happiness and broad range of experiences in Australia. I met a multitude of friends through them both, and they led me on many wonderful escapades. They helped me achieve my true goal of this experience-assimilating with Australian culture.
Homecoming
Tonight is my last night in Australia. I’m all out of my room, with all my stuff in a corner. My flight takes off tomorrow at 2:45pm on July 10th, and arrives in Eugene, Oregon at 2:45pm on July 10th. No joke. Tonight should be chill, after last night: a chill free dinner with Ashleigh, then going to a little party at a gallery in Newtown.
Last night was a doozy. Tiger held a little going-away party at his place in Newport. Way too much alcohol and a crazy drinking game that I lost, but good people…great people. I’m going to miss them all. Ugh, and I missed Mona today, no face-to-face goodbye…
Ok, here’s a NOTE-
The blog will not end when I get back in Eugene. I have many things to write about that I haven’t had time to finish…trip to Melbourne, goodbyes, hang out at Reese’s, and a few others. Also, I’m kinda serious about putting together a photo/blog book with big glossy pictures and a few stories. I don’t know where that will go, but you should always dream. Alright, this is my last physical post from Australia (though I have many partial posts that I will finish when in Eugene.) Alright, I don’t really know how to sign off here from Australia for the last time…so here’s my usual…
I’m OUT
The Red Center-Uluṟu and Kata Tjuta
No morning beginning at 5am can be a good morning, but the day’s prospects made it bareable. The itinerary for today was to watch sunset at Kings Canyon, walk up and down and through the canyon, then off to Uluṟu for sunset.
I awoke to the rustling of sleeping bags and swags and immediately the light ribbing began. Apparently I had snored with immense volume and kept Conny up for a portion of the night. Kate and Roelof (who was in his shelter on the other side of the campsite) heard me snoring as well. I usually feel terrible for snoring and keeping people up, but this time I just decided to apologize, tell them to wake me up next time and move on.
I stumbled into the shelter for a quick breakfast: cereal, a few peices of toast and fruit. Apparently I was quite the sight at 5 in the morning, I kept getting laughs at my appearance and drunken-like behavior.
We wouldn’t be returning to the camp, so I gathered my things and got to the van as quickly as I could-which wasn’t quick enough. I was the last person again and felt like such an idiot rushing around with my bags and all; I hate holding people up.
We headed off back along the bumpy and rough road, serenaded by the Beatles singing “good day sunshine”. Before long we were at the base of Kings Canyon, though as it was still dark only a faint siloutte of the canyon walls could be made out.
The first part of the King’s Canyon walk was the most strenuous, a somewhat precarious and steep set of rock stairs that is commonly known as ‘Heart Attack Hill’. We rose probably 100 metres in two minutes. Conny, Jeanette and myself stayed with the group for the first bit, then broke away and took the climb at our own pace.
Brett and I on our way up Heart Attack Hill
We reached the top out of breath (I guess I should speak for myself) but were rewarded with a slight but vivid tinge of purplish-pink coloring the clouds.
As we lounged on the rim of King’s Canyon the purple clouds soon intensified as our surroundings became illuminated. The rest of the group caught up and we pushed on, hiking over the sandstone. At certain points Kate would stop to point out certain things of interest: geology, Aboriginal practices, animal behaviors and interesting plants.
It was absolutely amazing up there. After climbing a bit we came to ‘the flats’, a place where one could see the stone all laid out in front of oneself. It truly felt as though we were on Mars. Orangey-red rocks and sand surrounded us, it was all we could see. That and blue skies above.
We came to the edge of the canyon a few times, which gave us views for what felt like hundreds of miles. The walls of the canyon were sheer, dropping nearly 300 metres straight down. It reminded me of Angel’s Landing, a rock formation in Zion National Park in Utah, except much less intense.
Conny, Jeanette and I
There was one instance that I’ll never forget, and now looking back on it it seems as though it brought Conny, Jeanette, Brett, Roelof and myself together, gelled us, through somewhat crude humor. We were all standing together, taking in the beautiful sights before us. I had my hand on my camera, which was around my neck and resting low on my midriff. As I turned I accidentally hit the shutter button, taking a quick shot. “Oh!” I exclaimed, surprising myself. Conny looked at me and quipped, “That happens sometimes.” I looked at the two guys, then back at Conny and Jeanette with a slight smile on my face, and we all cracked up with howling laughter. Sustained laughter continued for nearly a minute, and when we tried to explain why we were in such a state it just rendered blank looks. It was a ‘you had to be there’ moment.
We continued on, only stopping to gaze at a pygmy koala in a tree overhead. Our path led us down a cascade of steps into the canyon, a place called the ‘Garden of Eden,’ a lush and green oasis where a permanent water hole resided, something quite special for a place as dry as outback Australia. It was a transition from desolate rock with a few scraggly ghost gums to a cool and shady sanctuary of thick trees and bushes, a few ducks, and the twittering of birds.
Following the path down through the canyon we came to the water hole, a large pool skirted on one side by rock, where thirty or so fellow tourists were lounging. Beyond the pool of water rose a sheer rock wall, the canyon’s edge, dark red rock with streaks of black. We found a place in the corner and rested for a few minutes, munching on biscuits that Kate had packed. It was incredibly peaceful even though we were anything but alone. Just the knowledge that we were in the middle of a desert, an arid desert, yet next to a lush natural garden and pond was profound; it was truly spectacular.
Retracing our footsteps out of the canyon, then up another cascade of stairs, we found ourselves on the othe side of the canyon. A few of us relieved ourselves, then we continued on our way. (Normally I wouldn’t bring up such crude details, but there’s something somewhat noteworthy about leaving ones mark on such a wonderful and spectacular land. It’s right up there with urinating in the Steens Mountains in Oregon!)
We continued on along the canyon, admiring the incredible day we had been blessed with. About 65º with overcast skies: incredibly comfortable for hiking, and superb photographic conditions. Along the way Kate pointed out ripples in the rock, which she explained were actually from the ocean 300 million years ago. Apparently this was all at one time the ocean floor. That put things into perspective! She also showed us a shell fossil in the the rock-pretty incredible.
The shell fossil
The rock formations were extraordinary. Smooth and rolling rock, humps of rock, jagged edges-the only unifying characteristic was the deep, Martian red. Contrasted against the blue skies with swirling clouds: breathless.
On this Kings Canyon sightseeing tour I began to hang out and speak more with Jeanette. I had spoken pretty much exclusively with Conny before this, but for some reason felt attracted to Jeanette and began to initiate more conversations with her. I had developed a pretty strong, obvious, yet unfortunate crush. I say unfortunate because I would have a little over 24 hours remaining with her. I say obvious because after dropping me off at the airport in Ayers Rock, the remaining crew headed back to Alice Springs where they went out drinking. Apparently they spoke of how obvious and cute my crush on Jeanette was. Guess I don’t do anything quietly…
We arrived back at the van at a little after ten and decided to postpone lunch, instead pushing on to Yulara, the tourist/resort town on the outskirts of Uluṟu – Kata Tjuṯa National Park. It was a drive of a little over two hours, with most of us electing to sleep. I actually missed a dingo sighting because I was asleep, then failed to see the wild kangaroo Brett had spotted. I still think he was making things up…
As a surprise to us all, it began to rain. It was quite comforting to me, actually, and wasn’t that surprising. But with the knowledge of where we were, it was pretty crazy. Through the mist and fog we made out a faint landmark in the distance, a body of land we mistook as Uluṟu-turns out it was Mt. Connor. It looked like a mountain with the head chopped off, quite an interesting sight.
We finally arrived in the town of Yulara with Kate remarking how ‘funny’ it was that we couldn’t see Uluṟu due to the rain and clouds. The rest of us didn’t really find it funny. After check-in we made it to our temporary residence, another permanent campsite, much in the same fashion as the previous night’s. I had been incredibly angsty ever since I had seen the rain, fearing that we would miss Uluṟu. Kate assured me that we would see it as paths go right up to the rock. Blue sky also began to melt away the clouds, and my excitement began to skyrocket.
After lunch we settled in to the campsite a bit. Kate was alerted by a fellow ranger that there was possibly a waterfall at the Mutitjula Water Hole, so we all piled in the van and set off. She was very eager and excited, remarking to us that she had only seen waterfalls on Uluṟu once before. This was significant, as Kate had been giving tours for about eight months.
We zoomed along the road towards the great rock, and gradually it began to appear. It was quite the ominous sight. It’s girth was incredibly massive, three and a half football fields across. Clouds leeched onto the top of Uluṟu, creating the illusion that it rose forever. We kept on driving closer and closer, getting to the point where it took up the entire view of the window.
First sight of Uluru
Hopping out of the van, we were greeted with a damp, fresh air. The sky was still gray, and Uluṟu stood in front of us like an ancient monolith. The spirituality of the rock was palpable; it gave one a hushed and reflective feeling, an air of seriousness and profundity. And, as I remarked before, the veiling of the clouds made it all the more mysterious, even daunting to explore. These feelings cannot be reproduced, it’s like nothing I have ever felt before. I only feel slight whisps of it looking at certain photographs and video. It was truly stunning.
Giddiness enveloped me as we began to saunter down the path towards the sight of the prospective waterfall. Since my first year of high school I had learned of the majesty of this place, and I was finally here! It was difficult to comprehend, and still is.
We made our way along the path, then onto a boardwalk and to the final viewing area at the Mutitjula Water Hole at the end of the Kuniya walk. There was an immense amount of people in a small area, and it was quite obvious that water was flowing down Uluṟu. In front of us was a large pool of fresh, newly-stirred water contained in part by a backdrop of Uluṟu. From the top a good amount of water was flowing down, collecting in one area, then bubbling over and continuing on to the pool below. It was a profound sight, such beauty due to water in a usually bone-dry climate. We were told that it only rains a few times a year at Uluṟu, and we were lucky enough to be there for one of them.
The spiritual, sacred feeling was very strong at this place, the Mutitjula Water Hole. Recollections of the feeling bring a warm and contented feeling to my soul. (It’s hard not to sound melodramatic explaining the spirituality of a place…these are my true feelings.) This was another permanent water pool, yet at this time full to the brim. We snapped a few pictures, (well, I snapped like 200 or so…) then returned for the bus.
Before reaching the bus we made a detour at an area along the walk. Kate led us into a cave, and when our eyes adjusted we were met with what first seemed like elementary scribbles on the rock, but which turned out to be symbolic Aboriginal rock art. How astounding! She explained the different symbols, how they made their ‘ink’, and the different stories the drawings told. They were unprotected, just there. What a window to the past!
Our next stop was the culture center, where we learned of the religious and cultural significance of Uluṟu. It also explained their wishes against tourists, or anyone for that matter, climbing Uluṟu. During my first lessons on Uluṟu in the sixth grade I was told that it wasn’t right to climb Uluṟu, but my Aussie friends had made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal, as most had climbed it. The cultural center helped to solidify my desire to refrain from climbing.
The Anangu people, the Aboriginal tribe that resides at Uluṟu, says that they don’t judge those who climb it. They say it is each person’s decision, and they respect that. I, however, do judge. I think it’s deeply disrespectful and completely misses the point of what Uluṟu is all about. You don’t climb the Wailing Wall. You don’t wear a baseball cap into the Sistine Chapel. There are just certain things you don’t do.
None of us in the group wanted to climb it, except for Terry. Kate explained that usually Asians are the majority of those who climb Uluṟu. It’s not due to disrespect, but more of a lack of understanding. Apparently tour groups in Asia promote Uluṟu as a rock you climb, it’s just a thing they expect to do. Also, in their defense, the explanation that solidified my resolve to refrain from climbing the rock wasn’t translated into Korean, or Japanese, or Mandarin. It’s just a misunderstanding. And anyways, due to the wind and the water climbing was shut down-Terry didn’t get the option.
At this point the clouds had completely receded from Uluṟu, taking up their usual posts in the night sky. Our van headed towards a popular tourist area for the nightly Uluṟu tradition of sipping champagne (sparkling wine) and watching the sun set, painting the rock in all different shades of orangey-yellow.
We found our own little space away from all the crowds and Kate poured us glasses of wine while I set up my tripod. As the sun drifted behind the rock it was as if Uluṟu was lit from the inside. It glowed dark orange, which turned into a brilliant yellow, then back to an orange-gold hue. For those of you who scoff at the notion that the rock ‘changes colors’, it’s hard to explain without sounding mystical and spiritual. Just know that it truly glows vibrant shades of orange and yellow. Amazing.
Jeanette, Conny and I
The group
I got a few stunning shots of the rock, I was quite proud. After many a group photo the show was over. We were all energized and excited from such a magnificent experience, and ‘partied’ all the way back to the camp site.
These Adventure Tours are usually planned for group sizes in their twenties. Our group was made up of ten people including the tour guide-but the amount of supplies stayed constant. Which means we had many a bottle of wine. I had two or three glasses during sunset, then two at dinner and one at the campfire.
The night turned into a laughing fest as a few others in the group were a bit drunk as well. We were told that one of the managers of Adventure Tours would visit us and tell an Aboriginal dreamtime story. We were all pretty excited about it, but as it turned out it wasn’t much more than a man mumbling and drawing in the dirt with a stick. We were all giggling and cracking jokes just out of earshot of him-it was like we were in grade school again. I sat there numb, happy, giggly and warm, sharing the moment with good friends and a few others who joined us from another campsite.
I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I got up to go to the bathroom, and walked through a bench, knocking it over. (In my defense it was dark.) I walked in a zig-zag to the bathroom, my head in a haze, then crawled in my sleeping bag. I was so wonderfully warm, calm, and relaxed. I drifted off to sleep quickly, smoothly…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Morning came once again too quickly, however this time I was immediately bitten by the frigid air of the desert morning. We all scrambled around in the dark to pack our things and get breakfast, then hopped on the bus to catch the sunrise. I was tired and my hair all greasy and mussed, but felt no effects from the previous night’s indulgences.
Kate dropped us off at the base of Uluṟu under the darkness of night, a few rays of fire marking the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise. Instead of watching the sunrise from a viewing point, Kate told us that the most stunning views would be seen during the base walk. It was still frigid and a biting wind had started up, but it would not deter us from the special moment.
The route
As Uluṟu is incredibly sacred, there were many sites and areas around the base that were cordoned off, forbidding anyone from entering the area or even to take pictures (enforced by a hefty fine-entering the site can put you back $5000 AUD). Reasoning behind this is that many of these areas are either men’s sacred sites or women’s sacred sites. The Anangu are afraid that if pictures are taken then the opposite sex may accidentally view them, a violation of their code.
I was messing with Jeanette about filming a sacred site, (which I wasn’t), and she attempted to grab the camera…haha.
The rock turned from a dark silhouette into a dark orange, then a bright yellow. The walk took us nearly around the entire rock, lasting two hours and about 7 kilometers. It took us through a high-desert-like environment to just plain desert, then through to a wooden meadow area, sprinkled with ghost gums that seemed like a wetland. The diversity was mindblowing, how a single rock could create such a plethora of environments.
After the walk, which took us past the smoothness, jaggedness, caves and sheer walls of Uluru, it was time to leave this special place and explore Kata Tjuta (Kata Joota).
Last views of Uluru
Kata Tjuta is one of the most spiritually significant places in all of Indigenous Australian culture, more significant than Uluru. (NOTE-Aborigines from here on will be referred to as Indigenous Australians, as this is the more politically-correct terminology.) It is a men’s sacred site, meaning that no Indigenous Australian women have ever visited it. It is made up of 36 domes, with the tallest 546 meters (1791 ft.), over 200 meters higher than Uluru. The white man’s name for Kata Tjuta is The Olgas.
The ride was about a half-hour, and before long the domes poked up over the scraggly brush. We neglected to stop at a viewing area (and a little bit of me died…), but we pushed on to a parking lot at the base of two of the domes. The plan was to hike in the valley between the domes. The hike was pretty easy, up a rocky path, but it was incredibly windy and threatened to steal my bush hat more than once.
This is not my picture...
From pictures the domes may seem small, but they are anything but. As we entered the valley we were dwarfed by the sheer sides of the domes. They were dark orangey-red, like most things in the red center, with a few holes and imperfections.
The trail led us through what seemed like a rocky wasteland into a lush, green oasis; a place with damp air and a sense of great fertility, and a small stream trickling through.
I asked Kate about the ‘Tie me kangaroo down sport’ song, and she commented that it was blatantly racist, with the lines:
Let me abos go loose
They’re of no further use, Lew
So let me abos go loose’.
After a quick lunch at the campsite we packed up all our things and headed to the airport. First we dropped off Yung and Terry at a hostel in Yularra, then Helen and I were dropped off at the Ayers Rock airport. Saying goodbye to the group was incredibly difficult, as I didn’t know if I would see any of them ever again. I shook hands with Roelof and Brett, hugged Conny and Jeanette and said goodbye to Kate and Simona. I got a sore throat, the beginnings of choking up, but pressed through. I waved goodbye to the van and headed in to the airport, just making the plane.
While I sat there, gazing at Uluru from the sky, I thought about the intense and profound relationships we all had cultivated within the past 60 hours or so. I genuinely love those folks on the tour; I’ve chatted quite a bit with Kate and Jeanette over the internet and am planning on having dinner with Roelof and Brett when I visit Melbourne next week. The trip was absolutely amazing, truly one of the highlights of my time here down under. I will never forget those people, or the amazing sights and feelings we all experienced together.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
The Changing Colors of Uluṟu
Photos by the author
Shrouded by clouds
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunrise
Sunrise
Red Center Vids
During our tour of the Red Center one of our mates, Roelof from Melbourne, periodically took pictures and video. Last week I received a DVD in the mail, an incredible gift that brings back the feelings and emotions of that wonderful time. Here are those videos below, hope you enjoy!
Day with Kel
This past week my good friend Kel took me on a wonderful beach tour. She was just horrified that the only beach I had visited was Bondi, and took it upon herself to expose me to some of Sydney’s northern beaches. It was a weekend of track work so I had to catch a few busses to get out to Hornsby, but it was well worth it.
First we visited West Head, a nice little beach area in Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park with a viewpoint that looked over the ocean, with multitudes of sail boats gliding along the water. We walked down through the bush, then reached the beach. The tide was in so we had to perch ourselves atop rocks, but it was beautiful and serene nevertheless.
Where we chilled
We then headed towards Mona Vale Beach. Kel improv’ed the drive there, and took us on one of the most beautiful roads I have experienced here in Australia. It wound around the bay, with sail boats docked off to our left and a lush, green hillside to our right. Quite stunning.
Mona Vale Beach was quite a sight. Kel parked on a hill with a luxurious golf course to our right which abutted to the beach. We chilled on the sand for a bit, talking and watching the surfers. What a pleasant time!
The golf course
All in all, it was a wonderful day, another highlight of my trip. I value these sorts of experiences over things like clubbing, seeing the Opera House or even going on a harbor cruise. These are real experiences, a ‘day in the life’ sort of thing. Again, I see my objective of being here to assimilate, not simply be a tourist. And that’s exactly what Kel gave me. Thanks girl!
Raining on the Rock
During my tour in the Red Center our tour guide Kate would play songs over the PA in the van that were appropriate for certain situations. When we arrived to Uluru it was raining, rendering an absolutely breathless sight and atmosphere. She then played the song below. It’s impossible to feel what we felt without being there, but maybe this will bring you a bit closer…
…
This blog needs to turn away a bit from the whole ‘Travel Log’ thing that it has become. Those posts take me so long and consume me; it keeps me from writing anything else. At the moment I’m sitting on the couch in a quiet, sterile apartment, my head in a haze from over-sleeping and under-exercising. Finals are coming up for me and I literally haven’t gotten as far as checking the due date of my first paper, which is either this Monday or the next. When studying is on my plate, inevitably depression is as well. Studying feels like such a waste to me. I know, that’s such a teenage-angsty way to look at it, but it really feels that way. Jumping through these irrelevant hoops just seems ridiculously trivial, and just acts as a catalyst to plummet my seemingly-fragile wellbeing.
Also constantly on my plate and mind is the reality that I will soon be leaving the dear and close friends that I have made here. For some reason I never thought I would form such incredibly intense bonds during this time, but for some reason inexplicable to me I have. They are like brothers, sisters, and my roommates aunts, uncles, even parental figures. The thought of never seeing many of these people ever again is one that I cannot grasp, but one that rationally I know is based in fact. I will see many of these people again, but many others, I know, will only remain a memory.
I haven’t seen Mona in two weeks due to school sputtering to a halt. Reese and I see each other sparingly, and a few days that we had been talking about spending at his place before he flew to America in late June now seem like they might not come to fruition. I haven’t seen Dulce in a while, and Ryan and I are for some reason relegated only to conversing around class periods. It is as if the transition has already begun.
However, thankfully but also prospectively painfully I have made two new friends, or rather gotten closer to previous acquaintances: Ashleigh, a close friend of Reese’s, and Kel, a friend from frisbee. Ashleigh and I have been hanging out pleasantly frequently in the past two weeks, taking in Angels and Demons and going to the city for an art exhibition, among other things. Kel and I have been hanging out between and after school, and she’s been planning on taking me on a bush walk and a tour of a few northern beaches. Why these relationships had to begin a month before I was to leave the country I will forever be curious of.
People ask me if I’m excited to go home, and its a question that can’t really be answered by a simple, ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I’m excited to get back to see the friends and family that I’ve desperately missed, to congratulate and rejoice with a future cousin and meet my new ‘nephew’. I’m excited to move back in with the BUX307 boys and virtually live with the Corvallis girls again. I’m excited to talk and take in football and basketball with Dad, and help Mom in the garden. I can’t wait to cuddle Charlie and be enthralled with his exploratory personality. And I have wildly missed the family parties and gatherings, a place where I can truly be at ease.
All of this comes, however, with the trading in of my present life, the life that I have come to form here in Sydney. I feel as though I have swashbuckled my way into these people’s lives, and I will soon swing back out, leaving a hole of ‘what once was’. And along with me leaving a hole, they will keep parts of me, an act that will undoubtedly force me to return and continue to carry on with people who at this point, and undoubtedly more intensely in the future, seem like dreams, a reality that just could not, cannot be true.
In short, I’m excited to go back, yes. I’m excited for the friends and family and comfort of home, but I’m not excited for the monotonous life that I fear will resume mere months after I land in Eugene. And I fear going back because I fear that I may not return whole, that I’ll be caught between this dream I’ve been living these past four months and the reality that is Oregon.
This post was supposed to help me get everything out there, all on the table, and make me feel better. It’s just left me more unsettled than before. Oh, and I’m sure it will just read like a bunch of melodramatic crap that some whiny twerp sitting in his apartment in Sydney threw together in a desperate attempt at attention. But it’s what’s inside of me. Take it or leave it.
ENTER: The Red Center
I groggily awoke from a haphazard nap; a slumber that was constantly at war with the roar of twin jet-engines. Peering out of my window I glimpsed an orange wasteland spread out below me, off into the distance as far as the eye could see. It was ‘a rich and inspiring nothing’: no trees, no lakes, no rivers, and no buildings. Small patches of clouds dotted the tundra, their shadows slightly offset, playing on the desert floor. It was a duotone landscape, orange transforming abruptly but smoothly into blue; desert to sky. I had caught my first glimpse of the ‘real Australia’, a place known as the Red Center.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
After a hurried morning of waking at 5:30, missing the train I was hoping to get, then finally arriving at the Domestic Airport at 8:20, I finally boarded my flight to Alice Springs, Northern Territory, Australia. I had been looking forward to this trip for a few weeks, and couldn’t wait to get out of the city and to the outback. On the itinerary was one night in Alice Springs, then Kings Canyon, Uluru and Kata Tjuta. The last two are the most sacred sights in Aboriginal culture/religion, and Uluru is often called ‘The Heart of Australia’ and has come to be a symbol of the nation.
Two and a half hours later the plane touched down in sunny, flat and dry Alice Springs. The place was crawling with flies, annoying little buggers that would buzz straight to the face. It was a constant battle to deflect them. I withdrew some money for a taxi and noticed that my balance was $90. I freaked out, found the nearest computer with internet and confirmed that the balance shown by the ATM was incorrect. This sort of needless financial freakout would continue to dog me for the remainder of my time in the Red Center.
I found that there was a shuttle to my accomodations, so I grabbed a piece of pavement by the van and continued to battle the flies. After 45 excruciating minutes of waiting for a plane to land from Cairns (pronounced Cans), I boarded the shuttle that would take us all to Haven Backpackers Resort. I say ‘excruciating’ because during the whole time I was waiting the same little rant kept going through my head: “I’m only in Alice Springs until tomorrow morning, its 1:30pm already and the shops will close by 5:30, AT LEAST! Ugh, this trip cost SO much and it’s all slipping away, as I’m baking at the damn airport being eaten by flies…”
I took my seat on the shuttle and the driver hopped in, jumped over the front seat to face us and asked us where we all were from. Some said Sydney, others Melbourne, yet others Cairns. “FUCK those places”, he proclaimed. “This is the REAL Australia!” Soon I came to find out how right he was. (I feel it important to not censor the previous profanity, in that it no doubt will shock you, much in the same way it shocked me. Also, it is important to note that profanity here is no big deal, as it sometimes is in the states. My friends say profanities around their parents, bosses, etc., and as long as it is not the “F” word, is acceptable…)
We arrived at the hostel, and after fifteen or so minutes of waiting to check in I finally reached the counter. I got much praise for last name, as everyone here absolutely loves it, and received my room key. After a few failed attempts I finally managed to get it to work, and opened up the door to my accomodations for the night: four seperate bunk beds in a single room, co-ed, with a single bathroom and shower. This would be quite interesting.
The accomodation itself, Haven Backpacker Resort, was a wonderful place to stay. It probably had around 70 or so rooms of up to eight beds apiece situated on two levels. Internet, free breakfast, a pool and spa, it was loaded! The rooms also had their own bathrooms with showers. Oh, and a large kitchen-I only used it for breakfast though.
I threw on some shorts, as it was nearly eighty degrees outside, and hurried towards town.
As I passed through town I saw my first Aboriginal people. I had seen Aborigines before at Circular Quay playing didgeridoos, but for some reason I really didn’t consider it a geniune experience. Not that they aren’t genuinely Aboriginal, but that the experiece is somewhat cheapened because them being there is all for tourists and profit. It was a compelling experience in that I was among relatives of the first proprietors of the land; the original Australians. I felt as though I was seeing celebrities whenever I saw one!
They are a truly fascinating people. (I’m afraid of writing the following things, as I’m worried it will be viewed as racist. It’s not meant that way, I have no contempt towards the Aboriginal people.) Their features are stunning, but I am finding them indescribable. They look as though they are an ancient people (which they are…but we are too…). And the combination of dark skin with naturally blond hair is striking.
Also, another thing that was extraordinary, in my opinion, was the smell of the Aboriginals-a body odor that was…different, unexplicable. Now, at first glance this seems derogatory, but one must move away from the ethnocentric ideal that the norm is cleanliness and an abscence of body odor. After walking around in Alice for the day I became familiar with the smell. Then, as I walked back towards town for some dinner later in the day I found myself zoning out and staring at the ground. I caught a whiff of the familiar smell and immediately thought, “Aborigines.” I looked up and barely made out three dark figures about fifty feet in front of me. As I passed them I discovered my olfactory sense was right.
It was sad, however, because many of the Aborigines I saw were inebriated or sitting around and drinking alcohol (during the day), or just wandering about, seemingly homeless. It seems as though I was seeing first-hand the effects of colonisation. If one builds their whole existence on the land, and that land is seized, how can one recover?
(An interesting juxtaposition: as I was walking into town I passed a small hill with a ‘City of Alice Springs’ sign pointing out that it was a sacred Aboriginal site. Beyond the sign I saw an old, haggard Aboriginal man take a last swig out of his beer bottle and toss it to the ground. I then looked to my left and saw a K-Mart…)
Now, I should note that these observations should NOT form my opinion of all Aboriginals or any of my readers opinions of all Aboriginals; this is merely what I experienced in Alice Springs.
Downtown Alice Springs is made up of maybe 6 to eight short streets; four streets crossing four. Main downtown, however, is essentially one pedestrian-only road lined with tourist shops, cafes, a bookstore, and Aboriginal art galleries, terminating with a shopping mall. There were Aboriginals panhandling along the street, playing some tunes on an old, beat-up guitar and a handful of others trying to sell their artwork. I grabbed a quick lunch at a cafe and perused the downtown area, stepping into an Aboriginal art gallery and continuing my quest for the surf shop I had heard so much about.
The Surf Shop!
Alice Springs is not an awesome town, or even a beautiful town, in my opinion. But it is a culturally-significant town, one that must be visited. I only had roughly six hours to experience it, which was enough, but I am so glad I was able to spend time there. The things that stick out the most are visiting a legitimate Aussie cowboy/rancher outfitters, mingling with the Aboriginals, and the knowledge that I was in the center of this great country, in outback Australia.
Legit Cowboy Outfitters!
At the end of the day I had accumulated some interesting purchases. A few native Australian seeds, a bush hat made from kangaroo leather, a few pieces of Aboriginal art, a traditional Aboriginal digging stick called a nala nala and a Peter Lik book dedicated to the Red Center. These purchases would later render a big fat goose egg in my bank account when I returned to Sydney, but it was well worth it (especially as one is a gift 
.)
During my purchase of the artwork and nala nala I had talked quite extensively with the saleswoman at Boomerang Art, a woman who was French and Polish. I’ll impart some of the wisdom that she passed on to me…
- Each Aboriginal person has two stories/objects to tell/describe: one that they receive from their father and one from their mother. These stories or objects help to explain the Aboriginals’ surroundings and its significance in their creation story. If one of your objects is a kangaroo, you cannot kill kangaroo. These stories must be passed on to others in one of three forms: song, story or art. Hence, Aboriginal art.
- One thing that the nala nala was used for is digging for honey ants. Young Aboriginal girls would be taught by their mothers to look for honey ant workers and dig in their general area. After digging for a long while they would come to the queen, which has a bulbous abdomen of honey. They would take these queens to the fire, heat them up, then suck their abdomen/honey out. Apparently it’s full of Vitamin C. Interesting, eh?
Honey Ant
- She told me to be careful about my decision and that certain pieces of art would speak to me. I was told to put each individual piece that I was interested in onto the gray-carpeted ground, giving it a neutral background.
- There are certain places in Australia where only Aboriginals can go, and the only way that non-Aboriginals can visit it is if they are invited. This is how the art galleries obtain their art: they form relationships with the Aboriginal tribes, then wait to be invited to their lands. They bring high quality brushes and canvas and pay the Aboriginals for their work. If there is a death and the Aborigines must perform ceremonies, the people from the galleries may not be allowed to visit for months.
- Alice Springs is the hub of Aboriginal art. It is in the center of many of the Aboriginal tribal lands. These tribes are very lucky in that they were not forced from the land that they have inhabited for thousands of years, which was not the fate of the majority of Aboriginal tribes.
I loved this woman, real love! She was so incredibly nice, treated me wonderfully, with respect, and was such a warm person! Australia is filled with these kind of people. Or maybe it was because I was giving her money…hmmm.
Walking back towards the hostel, I passed the small park-like area with the mound where I had earlier seen the Aboriginal man finish off his beer and throw the bottle into the fire, staggering away. There had been a drove of school boys running down a road that led to its top, and as it was nearing sunset, I decided to climb it and explore a bit and catch the sunset over Alice.
From the top I had 360° views of the town as well as the ‘mountain ranges’ that embraced it. (We wouldn’t call them mountain ranges, but as I was in one of the flattest places in the world, where a 100 meter-high hill gives you a view for nearly a hundred miles, contextually they were the Himalayas.)
I recorded a video, then sat myself down on the edge and gazed over the quaint town of Alice as the sun set. I removed my camera bag, vowing to not touch it; this was a moment that I was going to experience, one that would be solely mine. Selfish? Maybe, but too often my mind is occupied with finding the correct angle, the right composition or lighting, that I forget to just be and take the moment in. This was a moment for me, a time to absorb the beauty of the works of my creator. Him and me-simple, yet profound.
The moment the sun disappeared it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees. I high-tailed it back to the hostel and threw on some pants. It was nearing dinner-time so I asked around for a place to eat; it ended up being Subway. Okay food on a burnt sub, but the girl who served me was nice, and obviously appreciated the company of an American, which is always nice.
I arrived back at the hostel absolutely exhausted, and it was only 9pm! That’s the super-awkward thing about crashing at a hostel, if you’re the first to go to bed randoms will come in and out for the rest of the night. I didn’t really care tho, and had a big day following, so I decided to see if I could get some shuteye. Which I couldn’t. What followed truly illustrates the fruits/disadvantages, depending on your situation/point of view, of staying at a co-ed hostel.
It was probably about eleven or so and I was sleeping under the one sheet I was given, tossing and turning, trying desperately to get to sleep. Two girls came in (French is my guess) and started to get ready for bed. As I was on my side facing them, I naturally had my eyes open. It is a rare occurence for a ‘pre-marital’/'pre-living with a female’ man to witness the bedtime rituals of the female sex. However, I got much more than I bargained for. The more attractive of the two dropped her pants, fumbled around with her stuff for a bit, then slipped on some sweats. Then, with her back luckily/unluckily to me, removed her shirt and bra in exchange for a bedtime shirt. Holy jeeze. I couldn’t close my eyes, as they were paralyzed open (AND I am a dude), and I didn’t want her to know I was awake, so I just kinda stayed in that position. She threw on a shirt, hopped into bed, and the surprise/excitement was over. I turned over myself and drifted away to sleep…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
I awoke before my alarm began to scream and laid in bed for a while. The anxiety of the day to come started to set in, and I realized that I felt absolutely terrible. My stomach felt like the middle of the Bering Sea, and I immediately began to invision the horrors that this could cause later in the day.
After my morning rituals and a few pieces of toast my body started to calm down. I hung out a bit with a couple in my room who had been living in South Korea, but were originally from the east coast of the states. He was in the military, and it was great talking to them. They had already been to Uluru, so they filled me in a little bit about it. I also had conversations with a girl from Tokyo and another girl from England. Actually, I was the only guy in the room!
I checked out, got my stuff together and headed out in search of food. A McDonald’s cheeseburger later the van pulled up in front of the hostel. A woman dressed in all green pseudo-canvas clothing disembarked and headed my way. “Are you Petah” she asked in her thick Aussie accent. I answered with the affirmative and hopped on. I was greeted by a middle-aged woman, two beautiful girls that looked my age and two early-to-mid-forties men sitting in the back. I exchanged somewhat awkward ‘hellos’ with them and took my seat.
Lunch wasn’t included in the tour so we headed to a supermarket to get some snacks. I had been looking for a way to initiate conversation with previously-mentioned girls, and I soon learned that they were German. As I perused the aisles of the supermarket (more like minimarket) we crossed paths. “So what part of Germany are you from?”
“Bavaria,” she replied. Ah! I got so excited at hearing this as I have family in the Bavaria and visited in 2000. We spoke a bit about the Black Forest, where my family lives and such. After checking out we hopped back on the van to pick up the rest of our party from the airport. This included a girl from Switzerland, a young man from South Korea and another from Hong Kong. There was supposed to be a fourth, but she didn’t show up and we ended up ditching her. Whatever, her loss!
We left the airport and headed west along the Stuart Highway. Within twenty minutes or so all houses and signs of human interference, save a few fences and the paved highway, had vanished, leaving us with an incredibly flat terrain. Small bushes and trees (trees larger than ten feet were rare) were all skirted with red sand. There were a few hills and miniature valleys, but for the most part it was incredibly flat. I believe there was one option to turn in six hours of driving, possibly two.
THIS is why they call it the Red Center. Thanks to Kate Scollary for permission to use the photo...! (Photo not from our tour.)
Again, thanks to Kate Scollary for the photo... (Photo not from our tour.)
We left from Alice Springs, first stopping at Kings Canyon.
It looked like this for about six or so hours...
I soon learned the name of the German woman who sat in front of me; Conny. After we started to speak we nearly continued until arrival at Kings Canyon. We spoke about Germany and my ties to it (among a multitude of other things). She loved my middle name (Josef) as well as my dad’s name (Franz), both traditional German names; this almost endeared me to her, and made me feel as if I could join the ‘German Club’. She had spent some time in Boston so her English was smooth and clear, and our conversing really helped to pass the time. Six hours of sleeping, talking, listening to music, watching the bush and looking out for kangaroo/dingoes; not a bad way to pass the time.
The bush
During these first six hours Conny was pretty much the only one I talked to. Her travel partner/friend sat in front of her, but due to her not being all that comfortable with her English she let Conny do most of the talking. Later I would come to know her as Jeanette.
Jeanette and Conny had met each other in college, and Jeanette now lives in France. They decided to take a year trip to Australia to holiday and work, but like so many others with the same plan, they couldn’t find work and resorted to shortening the trip to only holiday. Shortening, however, is not a word I would use here. They had been in Australia for three and a half months, travelling around and sightseeing up and down the east coast. This was their last major trip, and they were itching to get back to Germany; they’d burned out on each other a bit.
We stopped every two hours for petrol, and checking out these service stations was quite the cultural experience. All of these service stations seemed the same. They all had pumps (obviously), cafés or diners, tourist shops, and small attractions. The first one we came to had a caged-off area of emus. I didn’t really know this until recently, but the emu is native to Australia and is somewhat of a national icon. The Socceroos’ jerseys, the national soccer team, has a crest with a kangaroo and an emu prominently on the front.
The rest area
Inside
The service station also had a cool old-fashioned bar. A woman smoking a cigarette, a couple shooting pool and an old, past-his-prime bushman watching an AFL game on the big screen comprised the patrons. I ordered a meal that took way too long to cook, making me the last one to the van. That’s never a good feeling. This trend would continue for the rest of the trip. I absolutely hated it.
The next two hours went by relatively quickly. I can’t remember anything really of note other than I started chatting a bit with Jeanette and we all had more interaction with the guys from Melbourne in the back of the van. We all had started to come together.
The next and final service station was my favorite. It’s attraction was camel rides, but more interestingly it also functioned as a kangaroo rescue. They looked after Joeys (baby kangaroos) who had lost their mothers and were too small to survive in the bush on their own. They were kept in an enclosed space until they had grown to survivable height, when they were released back into the wild. It is super lame, but I really haven’t had that much interaction with kangaroos while I’ve been here, so this was pretty special for me. I haven’t even seen one in the wild yet! (I’ve heard one though…) To see them move is so interesting, and they almost look otherworldy with their huge feet, long, thick tails, comically-tiny arms, horse faces and their hopping gait.
We were there for feeding time, so I got to witness them all come hopping over, probably twenty or so of them, to the feed bowl and gather around. It was something I hadn’t experienced before (somewhat obviously), and it was pretty special!
I have to explain the significance of camels. Back in the days of exploration of Australia, which was the 19th Century, camels were brought over from the Middle East to aid in said exploration. Many camel farmers cropped up, and after a while the government decided it wasn’t a good idea. Camels aren’t native to Australia, and the government felt that they had completed their duty. Camel farmers were all told to kill their camels, and that would be the end of it. I bet you can guess what happened…Many camel farmers released their stock into the wild instead of killing them, where they flourished. The Northern Territory now has around one million camels, more than anywhere in the world, including the Middle East. Also, Kate informed us that if a wild camel could be caught it would be the captors to keep. We all found that pretty interesting.
Kate, our guide, alerted us that if we hurried we would be able to see sunset over some mountain range, so we hopped back on the van and zoomed towards our destination. It took about another hour or so, but we finally reached the campsite. Kate checked us in, then led on us a short walk through the bush on a boardwalk to a viewing area where we would see the sun set behind the George Gill Ranges. It was calm and beautiful, a wonderful way to start the night.
The sunset
Once again we all piled into the van as we took of towards the camp site. Kate put on the Indiana Jones theme while we offroaded it, around sharp turns, up and down over bumps. It was quite a ride!
One of the great features of the trip was permanent camp sites. Both nights we had our own private camp sites complete with permanent shelters with bunks and a covered eating/cooking area. It wasn’t roughing it at all, but still a fun way to experience nature and the outback.
Dinner consisted of noodles with bolognese sauce, a hearty and ‘oh so’ tasty meal. Post dinner we all migrated to the fire pit, with Kate and I visiting what was rumored to be an old Aboriginal burial ground to collect some wood. Apparently there had been ghost sitings and such; it was pretty cool!
Our time around the campfire was a riot! Kate told stories of past groups and ridiculously stupid questions she’s been asked, while Roelof (pronounced Rule-off), the South African-turned Australian entertained us with his marshmallow-roasting skills. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, excitement from being on vacation or just his personality, but he was an absolute riot. He kept on calling the marshmallows ‘mushrooms’, which spawned a few jokes of him being under the influence of magical mushrooms, and he put us in stitches with his quips towards his companion Brett. There were also a few kangaroo tails roasting in our firepit, and once we had grown wary of their presence Roelof terrorized the neighboring camp with them. It was a fantastic night.
Roelof roasting marshmallows. To my direct right is Kate, to Roulin's left is Helen, then Brett.
Photo Courtesy of Simona Meloni
The weather was incredible as well. Remember this is the middle of the desert, super-hot days and cold nights. That night it didn’t get lower than 65 degrees or so, and it was an incredibly clear sky; and eerie combination. Due to this most of us elected to sleep outside under the stars in swags, a type of envelope for our sleeping bags. It’s difficult to explain, but see the pictures below.
My swag (without a sleeping bag).
Jeanette and Conny in their swags. I slept right off to the right. (Photo courtesty of Jeanette, tho I took it...:))
I’ve never seen the Milky Way that milky before, just thick with stars. Roelof also pointed out to me the Southern Cross, a constellation that has a place on the Australian flag which is nearly impossible to see from Sydney. It felt as though we were in a tin can with holes poked in the top, the stars were so intense. (Though not as intense as the stars on a Costa Rican beach. Remember that, parents?)
After a few shooting and falling stars I drifted off to sleep. Finally, I had made it to the real Australia; the Australian outback!
–ζ——δ——ζ–
After our time around the campsite we really started to get to know one another, and began to form what would later feel like a sort of family. (Well, I didn’t view everyone as family…;) ) It is now my honor to introduce you to the crew!
We were lucky to have as our tour guide Kate, a woman in her late-twenties from Melbourne, who currently ‘keeps (her) stuff in Alice Springs.’ She had been tour guiding for approx. eight months. She’s an adventorous yet laid back woman who enjoys her beer (a requirement of being Australian)!
Next came Helen, a middle-aged woman from Melbourne. She works for the University of Queensland-Melbourne with International Students, so it was interesting to talk with her about my experiences as an international student.
I’ve previously mentioned Brett and Roelof, companions from Melbourne in their mid-40′s who would come to be referred to as ‘the boys’ (though I preferred the ‘two amigos’). They had travelled the world together, and brought much humor, insight and entertainment to our clan.
The people I became the closest to on the trip were Conny and Jeanette, the young women from Germany. They were a lot of fun as well, and I am so terribly lucky that they were on this trip! It was similar to the dynamics of my relationship with Emily in Hawai’i, if any of you catch that reference…
Simona is a 19-year old from Switzerland whose been studying in Cairns for about the same duration as myself. She’s a quiet girl, but also quite fun!
Rounding out the group was Terry from Hong Kong and Yung from South Korea. Due to a rigid language barrier we really didn’t have all that much interaction with them, but it was obvious that they were two intelligent and interesting young men, truly good guys.
The incredibleness of this trip rests squarely on the shoulders of these nine indiviuals. Before I had joined the group I had spoken to a girl at the hostel about her trip. She told me a bit about it, then remarked, “It really depends on your group.” I was so very lucky to be on this trip with these nine people, they truly made it a delightful time.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Thanks to Ashleigh Hull and Kel Pearson for descriptive help.
First View of the Outback
First View of the Outback
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
A Father’s Perspective
I arrived back to the apartment from the Red Center to receive this e-mail from my Dad, his account of my parents’ first week in Sydney with me. It hasn’t been edited, or read…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
The following are the words of Franz St. George.
Australia: 4/12- Arrived in Sydney at 6:10 AM, tired and cramped from the tight space on the plane. Impression of the flight?: comparing the SAS flight to Stockholm in November to this United Air flight to Australia, this flight was definitely several stars under the SAS flight. During the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel, I noticed that the trees looked tropotypical (a word I just coined), some palms and some very tall, somewhat open types ( maybe acacia?). It was also strange to have the driver on the right side of the car and driving on the left side of the road.It was overcast and humid, temp in the mid 70s. We we lucky and were able to check into our hotel room, downtown Sydney, 10min walk from the harbor and the Opera House. We met Peter outside the hotel at noon. It was wonderful seeing him walking the sidewalk towards us. He’s lost just a little weight and he looks great! We hung out in the room for a little while and then walked down to the Circular Quay (harbor), touristy, but very cool (temp wise, the sun came out and it got very warm). Lots of street performers; watched several groups of aboriginal men in their traditional garb and face-body paint playing didgederoos (sp). We had lunch on the water and made our way to the Opera House and through the Royal Botanical Gardens-hundreds of large flying foxes!. Each of these places, along with the sights on the water front were incredible by themselves.All of this is inside Sydney! We got back to the hotel room at around 4:30, rested and then walked to the train station and took the train to Peter’s college, MacQuarie University. We walked through campus to his apartment. Due to the Easter 2 week break, it was dead quiet except for the incessant bird sounds (lots of large yellow cockatoos (sp) and other tropical types of birds). At the apartment, one of Peter’s roommates, Vasya, had prepared a Russian-type meal for us. Peter’s roommates are very interesting. Vasya and his wife, Jenya (sp) live in one room. They are from Moscow. Heet, a Japanese man from Tokyo lives another room. All three are graduate students. Heet is currently writing his Ph.D. dissertation in environmental law-Peter says he is constantly sequestered in his room. Jenya is a Russian-educated lawyer and is studying environmental law and Vasya is studying business administration. He already has a Ph.D. in laser physics, but says that there are no employment opportunities for his skills in Russia. What an incredibly intelligent, interesting and motivated group that Peter is fortunate to be living with. Vasya prepared a three-course meal of salad, stuffed pancakes, mozzerella, tomato eggplant and salmon. After dinner Peter walked us back to the train station and Nancy and I made our way back to the hotel room in downtown Sydney-collapsed into our beds. It is now Monday morning and I’m finishing this post. My impressions: Peter seems quite self-sufficient and confident here. He did a marvelous job of showing us the highlights of the Circular Quay area and showing us how to navigate using the train system. What an incredibly diverse cultural place Sydney is. Besides the causcasian and native Australians, we saw many different asian types of people; probably from Korean, Japanese, Chinese to Indonesian, Vietnamese, Thai, etc. Many Indian people, folks from Africa. It seems that the asian population represents a very large fraction of the local population. All of the different languages was astounding. I was reminded of that scene in Star Wars where Han Solo goes into an intergalactic saloon where so many different species of beings were wetting their whistle. The flora and fauna inside Sydney is astounding! One of those places where, without knowing the political and social problems you think you could easily live. A paradise for those just arriving!
The previous was written about a month ago so some of the details of the Australia visit are somewhat fuzzy. The following are some of the stronger impressions and memories I have. Monday was a chill day where we got some of our energy back. Later in the afternoon Peter took us to see the shopping area, QVB, where it was interesting to see the Aussies spending their money. Not too different than a US upscale mall. I’m still amazed at the diversity in the population here. Its also very obvious that this is a world-class city-the stores, fashions, traffic, 24 hour activity. Also, a tipoff for me is how upscale the women dress.
On early Tuesday morning Nancy and I grabbed our light weight luggage negotiated to the train station and met Peter at the Central train station to take the 2hr train ride to the Blue Mountains (amed for the blue hue of the gas given off by the eucalyptus trees. It was a wonderful train ride through the Australian country side-semi tropical flora. We checked into our rooming house, somewhat austere, but clean and adequate for our needs. At lunch Peter had roast kangaroo. I had a sample-it was very delicious and tender. We bought a bus tour fare good for two days. They take you to different drop off/pick up points and you can explore. Our major stop of the day was the Rain forest area. The tram ride over the very deep valley was cool. But even cooler was the small train ride down to the bottom of the valley. Without exaggeration the angle of descent was about 45 degrees! Wire mesh enclosed the open cars so that people wouldn’t fall out. Wow! It was very cool (literally) at the bottom of the valley, very moist too. We saw lots of flora-the only fauna was birds-very colorful! At the end of the day we ended up in the small town of Leura, where Nancy decided that she’d like to do some shopping the next day.
The next day we jumped back on the bus and for the first stop we went to the chocolate factory for some snacks-yum! We explored some of the other stops and really enjoyed the Leural Falls stop. The long trail of cascading waterfalls gave Peter plenty of photo-ops so he kind of split off for a while. We ended up in Leura for shopping-really didn’t find anything and had a bit of a snack there. At the end of the day we finished our wonderful visit to the Blue Mountains and took a train back to Sydney. We were scheduled to meet Peter’s friend Reese at a Belgian bar for mussels. We got to this incredibly packed bar where they were waiting for us, jammed into the bar for a seat and found that they ran out of mussels-shoot! Well, some other time. I drank plenty of beer-had a beer with my son-very cool kind of bonding experience-our first beer together! You had to be there…
Thursday was a chill day…. We went down to the aquarium and saw some cool sharks, fish, manta rays, etc. Huge tanks with glass tunnels through them for people to traverse and view the ocean life from within the tank.
Friday-the big day! We met Peter at the McQuarie train stop and walked to his apartment. Heet, his room mate was going to make lunch for Nancy, Jenya , Peter and I. He had a special cooktop set up on the balcony to heat the oil he was going to use for the tempura-style cooking. He cooked us several different kinds of fish and vegetable that we thoroughly enjoyed. We had great conversation and a great time. Later Peter took us on a walk through the Aussie neighborhoods and through a remote wooded area. We were searching for lizards. Didn’t see any, but we had a great time! He really knows his way around this area. Later we took a train back to Sydney. We went to the Sydney Opera house to see the dance production Push. Two dancers, man and woman-incredible.! What a wonderful performance. Being at he Opera House on the water front was special. This is an incredibly beautiful building and location. Its located in the city at the edge of the botanical gardens and on the water front. During the intermission Peter and I went outside and looked over the low wall into the water. Such a beautiful sight the city was with all of its lights reflecting on the water! Hey, the taxi rides to and from the Opera House from our hotel were an incredible experience. I don’t think that there are traffic laws for taxis in Sydney. This was more exciting than a carnival ride. These drivers wear racing gloves-I swear that they are juiced! Anyway, the Opera House was an experience of a lifetime!
Saturday-my first big time real, professional rugby game- the Sydney Waratahs against the Western Force from Perth. Peter arranged for these incredible seats-front row, just a few feet from the action. The crowd was juiced, the players were juiced, I was excited for action and big hits. We were lucky to be sitting next to some guys that had been players and were willing to explain the action and rules to us. Man, American football seems soft compared to how these guys play. Lots of big full speed hits, many, many runs. A significant amount of time is spent tackling where the hit does not end play, they keep pushing and grabbing and hitting. Its almost like wrestling during the tackle-I can’t believe the stamina these guys have. There are very big, stout players and smaller, very quick players. The hits are viscious-I saw lots of blood-play on!! There is no roughing the kicker, I saw kickers spun around like pinwheels! What an experience with Peter! Thank you Peter!
Sunday-off to New Zealand with Nancy and Peter.
My thoughts? The part of Australia we experienced was beautiful and awesome. Really nice, diverse people. Sydney is a wonderful experience. So may things to do and see. The quality of life here must be good. Lots of parks, beach, city entertainment, museums, restaurants, etc. Peter did an incredible job creating an itinerary that gave us a taste of many aspects of life here. Peter, you really impressed me with your resourcefulness and independence! I’m so proud of you-what you do, who you are, how you think… Dude, thanks for making our trip such a special experience. We just wanted to see you and you made it so much more!
Kings Cross shooting seals busy street | The Daily Telegraph
Last night I was at a club in Kings Cross called Candys. I had heard much about Kings Cross as it’s the red light district. Prostitution, violence, the lot. Stories of stabbings and fights all came to characterize this place for me before I had set foot on its streets.
During the day its just like any other street, but after midnight it turns into a different place. We exited the club at about 1:45 or so to find the streets FULL of club-goers. As we strolled along the sidewalks, making our way to a bus stop we passed one man flat on his back and another man crumpled up by a tree with a crowd around him. I didn’t see it, but apparently his face was drenched in blood.
After being ditched, Ashleigh and I caught a bus around 2:00am to head back to Pennant Hills. (To be fair to Reese, we weren’t maliciously ditched, more like passively ditched. We didn’t keep up with the group, focusing on our conversation instead…) Shortly after we left the following took place. Note that the Kings Cross train station is in the picture below, the start of my experience in the Cross…
Kings Cross shooting seals busy street
May 17, 2009 09:00am
POLICE sealed off part of a busy street in Kings Cross last night after pursuing a hooded gunman they believe had shot another man twice in the leg.
Officers chased the gunman down Bayswater Road after the shooting near Darlinghurst Road before losing sight of him around 2.40am.
A search of the surrounding area for the man was unsuccessful, police said.
Paramedics were called to the scene and the injured man was taken to St Vincent’s Hospital, where he remains in a serious but stable condition.
A crime scene was established and a number of witnesses interviewed while forensic examinations were conducted.
Crime scene … Police in Kings Cross after last night’s shooting. Pic: Gordon McComiskie
via Kings Cross shooting seals busy street | The Daily Telegraph.
Caring for Country-Aboriginal Land Management/Attitudes Towards Country
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, Aboriginal australians: 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.
Favorite Oz Club Music
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!
An Unexpected Relationship Part II-Genesis Realized
DISCLAIMER-Those who read the below text forfeit their right to be mad/frustrated/angry with the author.
An Unexpected Relationship Part I
–ζ——δ——ζ–
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.
Eno and the Opera House Sails!
This is gonna be on while I’m here! CHECK IT OUT! (Chad’s gonna be so jealous!)
- PRESENTED BY
Sydney Opera House- VENUE
Fleet Steps- DATES
26 May -21 June- PROGRAM
Luminous
- Event Information Navigation
- DESCRIPTION
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.
Apartment Tour
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…
A Night with the Socceroos
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
Mark & New Assignment
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.
On Girls
“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!
Ramblings of a _________
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.
I almost died today.
(Well, I kind of almost died. More like almost got knocked out… Pretty much, I just go for attention-getting titles. I’m a blog-hit whore.)
Today was supposed to be my study day. “Supposed” being the operative, key word. Woke up pleasurably late this morning and found myself with a craving for Subway… I’ve been wondering if it would be or taste any different…So I headed down to the Mac Center and got myself a club (it’s “$7 footlongs” here…don’t know how their jingle goes). Suprisingly they don’t have my favorite vegetable for subs, peperoccini, or bananna peppers, for some reason. Also, only American cheese. I asked for pepperjack and got a weird look. Oh, and no oil and vinegar. Wonder what the reasons were behind those decisions…
Anyway, had the sandwich, then treaded back up to my place. Laid in the grass on campus for a while listening to Car Talk, then walked the rest of the way home and started cleaning. I was checking out twitter, doin some procrastinating before even starting any studying, and saw the following twitter…
tonyhawk Monster Skatepark, Homebush Bay, 5pm. You might not have heard it here first, but that’s beside the point.
Hawk threw his helmet and shirt into the crowd, and the show was over. I went around back to see how close I could get, and there was just a huge group of people around him, pestering him, almost rioting. As he moved this amoeba-like swarm of people followed him.
He got into his car and continued signing autographs. I thought that maybe I’d try to get something signed, but I’m not aggressive enough, so he didn’t sign my little paper of directions. Held some kids skateboard in front of him to try to get signed, but it didn’t work. I was like 5 feet from him tho, it was pretty cool.
See him? He's up against the car, kinda coming out of that kids head in the foreground. Also, look at the joy on the kids face to the right! A signed helmet!!!
Afterwards I just kinda headed back, through the park, looking at all the Olympic stuff. It’s pretty awesome there! There was a rugby game about to start that I kinda wanted to go to, but I had to get back for Heat’s dinner.
Olympic Stadium
Stadium where the rugby game was about to take place.
Some olympic art or something in front of the previous stadium. Looked pretty cool...
I got back and immediately we began to eat, as it was 8. He made a dish where it was kinda fondue style, but it was boiling water instead, and we put vegetables and seafood in, then pulled it out when cooked and into a soy-sauce based sauce. Good stuff!
I was very proud of myself today. This is my maturation. In the past I would have thought that an hour was too little time to get to some place I had no idea of its location. I just kinda soldiered out, asked questions, and made it there. To a part of Sydney I’d never been to before. It was very liberating, and really cool, just how connected this city is.
I was gonna go into town and go on a pub crawl in the Rocks area with Reese and his friends, but by the time I was gonna leave it was already 930, and I was tired of taking trains. I kinda wished that I woulda gone, but I am just SOO tired. That is a bit of the old Peter, as opposed to earlier, which was the new Peter. Whatever, it doesn’t all happen at once.
First Skateboarding 900, EVER. 1999 XGames
This is at the 2001 XGames when he performed the 900 again. Look at how smooth it is!
A Day at the Beach and Hawk Sightings
Today was another early Friday morning, waking up at 9:30 am. I headed down to the Mac Centre (shopping center) to meet Mona, grabbing a kebab on the way. We hopped in her car, and headed towards Bondi Beach!
She hates this picture of her, but I think its a good one! We're headed to BONDI! Oh, and she is driving. Trippy, isn't it?!
It was a fantastic day, and such a fun time. It was kinda sketchy at some points, as Mona just got her driving license last week. We got lost a few times, went through toll bridges when we shouldn’t have, but I manned the maps and got us there properly. The suburb of Bondi (pronounced BOND-EYE) is just wonderful . I really just saw the beach front area that was full of surf shops, tourist places and food. But it was really cool seein’ all the beach bums hang around there.
We headed down to the beach itself, wonderful white, powdery sand and a deep-blue ocean with a blue sky. So incredible. It was probably about 80 degrees or so.
The beach. Ah, image compression ruins another shot!
It suprised me how small the beach actually was, maybe 300 yards long, 400 tops. And so many people crammed in. And on a Friday! Imagine what its like during the weekends and holidays! Mona and I laid on our beach towels and chatted for a lil bit, then soaked in some rays and relaxed. It was so perfect! Oh, and people-watching was prime! Apparently its a bikini-top optional beach (I think they all are in Oz), so that shocked me, but I got over it quick! I wasn’t offended…
Ha, kinda funny. I was taking a panoramic shot of the beach (below) and as I got to my last few frames a girl who had previously had her top on decided to remove it a few seconds before my shot of her portion of the beach. Hence, I now have a boobie picture. Totally not what I was going for, but…its the beach. I ain’t gonna change it.
Bondi Beach Panorama-Click on the picture to see a large size...
After a little while of soaking in the rays and being lazy, we decided to walk along the water for a little ways…
We then headed up to the grassy area on our way to some shops. Mona pointed out a gathering of people, so I suggested we check it out.
Me in front of the gathering of people, as we were leaving it. Read on to find out what they gathered for!!!
We got over there and saw that the people were all gathered around a drained pool that overlooked Bondi Beach, with skateboarders dropping in. Right away I thought there must be something special going on…usually groups of people don’t watch regular people skate, and this was freakin Bondi Beach, one of the most famous beaches in the world. I got closer and recognized what I thought to be Tony Hawk. I didnt really believe it until I snapped a few shots and saw him skate.
Tony Hawk (yeah...it was bright)
I think they were shooting a new skate video or something. Photogs everywhere, with cameramen.
Man it was incredible. Obviously I had never witnessed skating like that before…Tony Hawk is one of the best in the world (or used to be–no offense…well, at least he’s the biggest skating celebrity), and seeing the huge air that he got along with the crazy tricks he threw, it was crazy. I know nothing about skating, and I’m not gonna try to sound like I do, but…wow. The pool was probably twenty-feet deep with near-vertical sides, and the wipeouts were gnarly. I didn’t get to totally see the ending of the wipeouts, as I was maybe four rows of people back, but wow.
The Hawk-meister.
Hawk bailing on a trick.
What a setting! As you can see from the pictures the backdrop to the pool was the beach. The skaters (mostly just Hawk) would rise above the bowl, and as it was on somewhat of a dropoff, the looked like they were flying. I have no idea what kind of tricks they threw, but Hawk was doing stuff like dropping in, shooting out of the pool, doing a backflip or twists or both, and landing it back on the near-vertical side of the pool, staying on his board. Also, tricks where the skaters would ride with momentum up the side of the pool, flip up to a handstand position, one hand on the lip, one hand on the board, then back into the pool. Oh, and of course some grinding as well. (and a few kids, maybe 10 and even less…wondering if one of them was Tony Hawks kid. They didn’t do the huge tricks, obvoiusly!)
I was so lucky to have brought my d80 with me. Oh man! Moved around a bit to get shots, almost fell off a railing, but it was worth it!
We left after about a half hour or so. Later I heard that it lasted about 45 minutes. Apparently it was just a random drop by, I think Tony Hawk announced it on his twitter, but that was it. Just in the right place at the right time. What luck! Man this place is amazing! Always stuff goin on!
Hawk’s Twitter Post…
Well, after that we checked out a few shops, got a gift for somebody back home (??), then headed back. It was the Iranian new year, I think, so Mona had to be back by 530 to help with dinner. What a great awesome day! Another one in OZ!
More pix of Tony Hawk here and more pix of Bondi here.
Oh, lastly, got home to see that Obama had recorded a video directly to Iran. Thought it was pretty cool, so I sent it to Mona (who was born in Iran). Pretty ironic. I’m so proud of Obama for doing that, and am becoming happy for and proud of this country again!
Australia-Colonized or Invaded by the British?
2.14.11-UPDATE–For more of my writing, visit SaintProse.com.
Well, here’s proof that I HAVE been going to school! Just finished this paper…wasn’t too proud of it, but Mona did me a big favor in proof-reading it and telling me to make it more formal…Now I dig it! Hope you enjoy it, and please leave your opinions!!!!
GEO262-Tutorial Paper
In choosing a research question that at its core has no finite answer, and one that cannot be exhausted or successfully responded to in any length of paper, one must explore both sides of the issue. In the following essay the argument for the British invading Australia will be outlined, followed by a rebuttal from the school of thought that Australia was merely settled, and not invaded, by the British.
The concept of terra nullius is essential to this discussion. Terra nullius is Latin for “land belonging to no one.” In the day of the colonial powers, a country was required to determine a territory as terra nullius before it was annex or colonized.
In 1785 the British Government declared that Australia was a terra nullius (Attwood 1996, p viii). The government determined that it was not previously occupied and that it was open for colonization. However, it is a possibility that the Brit’s actions were in fact illegal under their own law, as settlement or annexation of a land found not to be of the terra nullius distinction was illegal. It would be somewhat understandable if Captain James Cook, one of the discoverers of Australia, had made brief contact with Australia, seen what many Europeans of the time felt was inhabitable land, and declared terra nullius. As history shows, this was not the case.
Cook actually made his first contact with Australia in April of 1770. A diary entry written by Cook, dated 22 April 1970, reads “(we) were so near the Shore as to distinguish several people upon the Sea beach. They appear’d to be of a very dark or black colour but whether this was the real colour of their skins or the C[l]othes they might have on I know not” (Cook n.d.). This entry proves the notion that Cook as well as the British Crown knew of previous humans inhabiting Australia. The seizure of land inhabited by other peoples is, by all accounts, an invasion.
In 1791 the British began their colonization of Australia. At first, relations between the Aborigines and the English were relatively peaceful. This all changed when the Aborigines came to realize that the English weren’t just visiting. According to the Australian Government’s website, Aborigines began to fight back, with “clans people of the Eora group in the Sydney area (undertaking) a campaign of resistance against the English colonisers in a series of attacks” which lasted from 1790-1810 (Australian Government n.d.).
This resistance led the English settlers to become violent towards Aboriginals, treating them like animals and shooting at them without thought. According to a report by Lyndall Ryan, author of the essay “Abduction and Multiple Killings of Aborigines in Tasmania: 1804-1835”, Aborigines were shot at for reasons such as motioning for a settlement party to leave, appearing on a hill behind an English outpost, and just simply existing. A visiting missionary is quoted as asking “’Why are there no natives seen in the town?’ the answer given was – ‘We shoot them whenever we find them’” (Ryan n.d.).
To their credit, the government did outlaw “the habit of maliciously and wantonly firing at, and destroying, the defenseless Natives or Aborigines” (Ryan n.d.). Nevertheless, the killing continued but went unreported.
Diseases brought by the English were devastating for the Aborigines. This is not a characteristic of an invasion per se, but more of an unofficial invasion. In his book review of Keith Windschuttle’s The Fabrication of Aboriginal History, Steven Churches writes that in some instances Aboriginal “death rates from disease, presumably influenza, (rose to) 50 per cent in as little as 11 days” (Churches 2003, p. 117).
There were a few shining moments in Aboriginal-English relations as not all of the newly-arrived colonizers treated the Aborigines poorly. In 1835, a farmer named John Batman “signed two ‘treaties’ with Kulin people to ‘purchase’ 600,000 acres of land between what is now Melbourne and the Bellarine Peninsula” (Australian Government n.d.). He felt that the Aborigines owned the land, and attempted to purchase it by trading goods for the land. However, his good deed was expunged when the governor of New South Wales Sir Richard Bourke was alerted to this news. He legally “established the notion that the land belonged to no-one prior to the British crown taking possession” (Australian Government n.d.). After this act, all Australian land not occupied by settlers was seized by the British government, relegating all Aborigines to squatters on land that they had occupied for thousands of years. The invasion was in full force.
With all of these terrible facts and realities it is quite easy to let emotions dictate this discussion. Yet one must remember that there are always two sides to every argument. At the time of colonization, many Brits felt that the Aborigines were “‘inhabitants’ but not the ‘proprietors’ of the land” (Attwood 1996, p x). Because many of the Aborigines were nomads, they did not use the land in what western thinkers viewed as ‘”a progressive manner”’ (Attwood 1996, p x). They ‘roamed homeless’ and therefore, in the western point of view, had no claim to the land. From this perspective Australia was terra nullius, legal and available for the British to colonize.
In the book titled “In the Age of Mabo” written on Australian land rights, the author quotes Tasmanian historian John West, who spoke of the Aborigines as “wandering hordes (who) engross vast regions…which would feed millions where hundreds are scattered” (Attwood 1996, p xi). For many this may not seem to be a valid point, but one must frame the idea with the current global economical situation; a shortage of land as well as a shortage of food. The question now becomes whether it would have been responsible for the British to NOT have settled Australia due to the fact that it was previously inhabited. Australia is an incredibly fruitful land and is essential in global food production. Imagine what the global situation would be like without it.
On whether it is a ‘black armband’ or ‘guilt-promoting’ version of Australian history to learn about white-black conflicts, the answer is no. Whenever the facts of history are accurately represented and conveyed, it is never guilt-promoting; it’s called proper education. However, when people enhance certain aspects of history in order to further their own agenda, it is very possible that the history turns into ‘black-armband’ and ‘guilt-promoting’ propaganda. And if the history in all of its reality is a ‘black-armband’ affair, there is nothing wrong with that; the act of remembering and commemorating the dead and the traditions of the past should be honorable.
As with most hotly-contested arguments, the answer lies somewhere between both sides. Australia was settled by the English using methods of invasion. Instead of meeting with the Aborigines and respecting them, the British seized their land, yielding them homeless, and killed them for no valid reason. The British did settle the country of Australia in the eyes of westerners, as they began to utilize precious resources that prior to their arrival had barely been tapped. They installed an infrastructure to aid in the civilization of a new land and brought new knowledge of undiscovered nature to the western world. However, in the eyes of the Aborigines, their culture and way of life was ruined, they were brutally murdered, and their land was stolen and destroyed. The only universal resolution to this conundrum-riddled question is that the answer wholly depends upon the perspective of the individual.
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/.
Churches, S 2003, ‘The fabrication of aboriginal history; vol 1, van diemen’s land 1803-1847’, Adelaide Law Review, The, Volume 24, Issue 1; viewed 18 March 2009, http://www.heinonline.org.simsrad.net.ocs.mq.edu.au/HOL/Page?handle=hein.journals/adelrev24&id=1&size=2&collection=journals&index=journals/adelrev
Cook, J n.d., Cook’s journal: daily entries, viewed 16 March 2009, http://southseas.nla.gov.au/journals/cook/17700422.html.
Ryan, Lyndall n.d., Abduction and multiple killings of aborigines in tasmania:
1804-1835, viewed 16 March 2009, http://72.14.235.132/search?q=cache:G6Tkfx2r-eEJ:www.yale.edu/gsp/colonial/downloads/Aborigines_in_Tasmania.doc+’Why+are+there+no+natives+seen+in+the+town%3F’+the+answer+given+was+–+‘We+shoot+them+whenever+we+find+them…&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=au
Wonderful Day with a Wonderful Friend
I feel like a broken record, but yesterday was incredible!!! This will be a long one, so buckle up.
This Tuesday I had a non-existant drink with Dulce (the bar closed early, so we just talked) and she mentioned that she was wanting to visit the zoo. I told her that I was planning on going on Friday, and that we should go together. It was set, Friday was the day!
Set my alarm for 7 on my first day of my weekly three-day weekend, which was difficult. We decided to meet on the Opera House steps at 10, so I had to get going! Got there about half-an-hour late, but Dulce was late as well, so it was all good. Grabbed a fantastic shnitzel sandwich on the pier, and we jumped on the ferry to the zoo.
The ferrys are a LOT smaller than the ones I am used to, the ones that go from Washington to Canada. This was maybe 1/10th or even smaller than that. (They are the green ships/boats in my pics of the Sydney Harbour.) Because of this I was nervous about the vomiting thing, as usual, but as usual I got through it. We stepped onto the dock and both kind of remarked to each other that we felt dizzy, but realized that the dock was moving…hmm. Boats always sway a lot more when they were docked, so it was swayin quite a bit, but it got better as it started to move.
It was beautiful! A little bit overcast, but probably about 70-75. (Later it rained a little bit, but it was ok because it was so warm. After the rain it was sunny and gorgeous!) We just sat and chatted as we crossed the harbor, looking at all the beautiful sights. I still can’t believe that I’m in Sydney…AUSTRALIA. I was talking about that with Dulce and she was feelin the same way…I just hope it hits me before I leave. I think maybe it has to do with the fact that things aren’t really starkly different here…like, if I was in the bush or in the middle of Kenya or something things would hit me harder.
The ferry took about 15 minutes, and we were right at the zoo. It was about a 2 minute walk from the dock to the Zoo’s side entrance. Taronga Zoo!
The side entrance. I'm guessing the front entrance is bigger...
Here’s a little clipping from wikipedia…
Taronga Zoo is the city zoo of Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. Officially opened on October 7th, 1916, it is located on the shores of Sydney Harbour in the suburb of Mosman. Taronga Zoo is managed by the Zoological Parks Board of New South Wales under the trading name, “Taronga Conservation Society”, along with Dubbo’s Taronga Western Plains Zoo.
Divided into eight zoogeographic regions, Taronga Zoo is home to over 2,600 animals on 21 hectares, making it one of the largest of its kind.
All in all it cost me $33 round trip with the entrance to the zoo included.
The layout of the zoo was pretty amazing. It is literally about 100 yards or so from the edge of the water, on the side of a hill. Kinda laid out in a zig-zag manner.
Map--We arrived at the bottom... Click on the image to see it enlarged.
CAs you can see, it kind of snakes up the side of the hill, with different exhibits and animals sprinkled throughout. As you got higher, you got a better and clearer view of Sydney’s skyline and the harbor. I’m telling you, this place is a dream.
This is a tram that goes over the whole zoo. Just kinda wanted to show you the views from zoo trails...
Dulce and I
There were large netted areas for all kinds of tropical birds. We visited the kangaroo walkabout, where you entered off this fenced-off area where a pathway weaved its way through a bush-like environment, with kangaroos all around. There wasn’t any barriers, really, between the pathway and the kangaroos, it was awesome! Saw a wallaby in there, as well as an ostritch, which was funny.
KANGAROOS!!!!!!!!!
Cue the "Ahhhhhhs"
Dulce was super-psyched about seeing the ostriches, so we visited them. I dug the lions, as it was feeding time, and we saw them play/fight a little bit, and growling at each other. I’d never seen them so active in my life before, just running back and forth. It was crazy!
Oh man, I could write a whole post on the chimps alone. It was so fascinating seeing them, they are so human-like! (But if we evolved from them, why are they still here? Wouldn’t they have died if it was natural selection? Cause you evolve to overcome difficult circumstances…ANSWER MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!) The emotion that they show is incredible! Saw a baby get on the back of what I’m guessing is its mom, and the mom walked around with it. Also saw a chimp using a stick to get bugs out of a hole. At face value that doesn’t seem huge, but it is. Think about it! What other animals use tools, other than their own appendages, to achieve work? This chimp would put his stick inside the hole, pull it out, and lick the ants off of it. This shows just how smart the are. I remember watching a documentary about Jane Goodall talking about chimps’ tool-making. Apparently I was wrong in saying that other animals don’t use tools (as according to wikipedia) but chimps are one of the only animals other than humans to actually make tools. And I saw him pick one up, it was so cool!
Mother with baby
There was a huge one, just HUGE. It blew me away. We also observed one chasing a lizard, which was cute.
Look how huge it is in relation to the other!!!!!
At another exhibit we saw what looked like one doing yoga (on his back, legs spread, grabbing both his feet), and another chimp right up to the glass interacting with kids. It was wonderful.
Look Mom, YOGA!
Saw elephants play-fighting (SO much force, it was incredible. Just pushing each other around), giraffes and zebras with a backdrop of the Sydney Opera House and the skyline. I petted an echidna, went in the dark-room area to see all of the nocturnal animals, saw snakes and other reptiles, everything! A DINGO! “The dingo ate cha baby!” Oh, and a bear. psh. We had bagels for lunch, then headed back to the ferry at around 330.
See the Opera House?
DINGO!
Not my hands, but I DID pet it! Very spiny and plasticky. You can only pet one way!
See the elephant in the corner?!
It was wonderful, we sat for about half an hour in the seal room just talking, not paying attention to the exhibit or anything. I was so at ease with her, it was incredible.
Oh, I lost my ferry ticket, so I had to talk my way off the pier…but I got a little help from Dulce.
She wanted to go to an Opera Show that nite, but they were sold out, so I picked up tix for when my parents come and we headed over to the Botanical Gardens. Beautiful as always. She hadn’t been there, which is suprising because she lives in the city (but Darling Harbor, which is a little ways away) and she loved it! I showed her the HUGE bats, which she thought were awesome…
Sat on a bench in front of a pond inside the fernery, it was amazing. Let me paint you the picture. A wooden garden bench, with huge and small ferns all around, a small bubbling waterfall falling into a koi pond. About 75 degrees, moderately humid, with the fresh smell of nature in the air. Next to a good friend, a beautiful girl, just talking and relaxing after a day of walking and exploring together. Learning more about each other and each other’s cultures, and the culture that we are now immersed in. It was fantastic.
We headed back and she asked if i wanted to get a drink at the Opera Bar. OF COURSE! We headed down there and got some Rosé sparkling wine and some chips (french fries). It was a Friday night, and terribly busy, so it was very difficult to find chairs. I wanted to show my gentemanliness, so I found a chair for her, and stood while she sat. SCORE! About 15 minutes later I found one, but the gesture had been made.
This bar is incredible. Not really a bar, its set kind of below the Opera House, near sea level, right on the harbor. We sat outside, in the open air, with a view of the harbour bridge and the Opera House. Incredible!
The wine hit me pretty hard, I think due to the fact that I was so hungry. Made me tired, a little bit light-headed, and happy. I walked her part of the way back, then caught the train (where my hand/camera was pooped on by a pigeon) back to the apt, and got home at about 7 or so. 9 am to 7 pm, not bad! Incredible day. INCREDIBLE! Such a bonding experience with a wonderful friend. I was so pleased and blessed that I got to experience that day with her.
