On Language

A note about yesterday's fun: Some of us from class held a picnic at school by the campus' bucolic lakes so we could go to the university's Earth Hour celebration later in the evening. We were looking forward to see some good music while stargazing when the lights and electrical devices would be turned off for an hour. Welp, our experience was not quite what we had in mind, as UQ decided to not participate in the hour and left the school fully lit all night. That also meant that few people felt inclined to turn off their mobiles, and you could see people texting and shooting pictures when Earth Hour should have happened. And we heard one-too-many aspiring Bob Dylan's, as most of the music was performed by undergrads playing hippie-influenced acoustic songs about sadness and other profound topics (I'm not hating on hippie culture, it just is not my music of choice). There were also a few petitions making circuits on the lawn, hoping to sway massive corporations to change their ways with the signatures of a handful of students. So my people left early, mildly confused from the experience.

Photosynthesis Drew brought up the good point that UQ probably could not participate because the campus hosts a heaping ton of fragile lab experiments with refrigeration and lighting that mustn't be disrupted for academic studies. Still, it was frustrating to see these young students unable to unplug their phones for even an hour, even if they were discouraged from the university's decision. We did not even bother turning off our phones, because there didn't seem to be a point, and we left shortly after the hour started.

Now, back to language. Or rather, languages.

It is going to be pretty amusing when I come back from Australia having learned to speak fluent Spanish during my studies. I believe this will happen for two reasons. Firstly, there is a good amount of Latinos in my program, and I get to hear them speak with each other in Spanish between class sessions. Secondly, my roommates come from Ecuador and Peru, and they are in a constant stream of conversations en espanol, and they encourage my meager efforts to participate with the Spanglish I have in my brain. Living in NYC has prepared me for this experience, with Spanish signs plastered in all of the subways, and I feel I am up for the challenge. But still, it's not at all what I had anticipated for my living abroad experience Down Under.

As for the Aussie version of English, I am facing small snags with my integration of language and dialect. There are words they use in different ways than us in the US, and it's sent me into some pretty amusing arguments about which is the correct word to use for the context.

Some fun examples:

• Squash vs. Pumpkin - We got in a long debate over the picnic about this because I brought some spaghetti squash to share (They did not know what spaghetti squash even was! I bought it at the market yesterday, so I know it exists here, but they were awestruck by my dish.). When I announced the dish and its ingredients, they asked what I meant exactly by a squash. It seems that Aussies use the word "pumpkin" for all squash. To them, squash isn't really a word except for one or two specific kinds of squash (which I believe are also called zucchini in the US). The orange pumpkin we love and carve/bake in autumn in the US is probably a species they don't know here, which is pretty depressing. But how on earth is a spaghetti squash supposed to be called a spaghetti pumpkin?! That just seems ludicrous. Butternut squash I can see might get away with the word "pumpkin" in its name, and maybe even acorn squash. But spaghetti squash?! Never. Denver Meg and I battled it out with Kylie, Chris, and Drew for a long while, and we left it moot.
• School vs. University - Okay, I'll let them have this one. University, though an education and schooling facility, is a better way to indicate what level of "school" you're in. But it's a hard habit to kill.
• Casserole vs. Stew - When discussing cultural dishes, I've told many people about how in the Midwest we are all about the casseroles. I've gotten a lot of tilted heads when I mention this, and I recently found out it's because Aussies use the word casseroles for stew-like concoctions. It makes sense now why people seem flabbergasted that I'd bake a casserole in the over, but I'm not sure why a stew would be called that. I mean, a casserole just *sounds* like something that wants to sit in an oven for a while and roll around in a baking dish. I feel like I should educate these poor souls sometimes in the obsession of the Americans that is a big, creamy casserole.
• Lightbulb vs. Globe - Imagine my disappointment when I was first walking through aisles in grocery stores here and did not find big world globes happily sitting on shelves, waiting for my amusement. I get it, it's shaped like a globe, but they are not globes. They are bulbs of light! I was devastated that my desires to spin a globe in a supermarket would remain unaccomplished.
• Gas vs. Petrol - Another one I have to give to them. Gas, while a simple monosyllabic word for all to enjoy, means other things in science that can make it a bit confusing. We put petrol in our cars, because it's petroleum. I can stand behind that one.

Also, Aussies love to abbreviate stuff. I know I've mentioned this before, but it is worth repeating as it's starting to become like a new language in my head. I was listening to the radio a few days ago and realized I didn't understand half of what was going on because every word in the sentence was amputated at the end and had an "o" or an "ie" glued onto the stump. My favorite example is how afternoon somehow magically became arvo, which still flustered me as there is no "r" or "v" in "afternoon" and I'm not sure what inspired that.

Sometimes I wonder why they even bothered to commit word massacres - a lot of the words that are chopped up remain the same number of syllables, just with a different endings. Like bikkies (biscuits, aka cookies). And Brissy (for Brisbane). And brekky (breakfast). I've heard an incredible amount of words that are no longer their originals, though, especially when I was listening to the radio. It seems like they are tired of the ever-so-common English and just want to make their own language. If they were going for efficient slang, though, they have not succeeded.

A Market and A Career

This morning my roommates and I woke up early, piled into Ecuador Monica's car, drove to another area of town. As I've mentioned before - the area where we were going, West End, is like a little Haigh Ashbury, or East Village for Brisbane. There are lots of cute little cafes and shops...lots of hippie-friendly fare...lots of environmentally-conscious this-n-that's. You get it.

Every Saturday morning the West End hosts an outdoor market. There, you can affordably buy your weekly supply of produce and meats, as well as clothing, jewelry, rugs and mats, and other things you could possibly need for your life, short of electronics. It is a massive market within a pretty green park. Guitarists play and sing in little corners of the market while you stalk the dozens of happy puppies trotting around. It was pretty awesome.

I'm glad we went early because by the time we left, the place was packed! People squeezed past each other and politely argued for the last bag of gluten free bagels (Actually, I was the one one bought the last gluten free bagels.). How does it compare to the farmer's markets in NYC, you might be asking? In comparison to the Union Square Market, this West End Market has a lot more variety and cultural diversity (I saw a MOMO truck!!!!). And it's a lot bigger.

I had a Swiss rosti-eggs benedict that was both creamy and crunchy. I'm still thinking about it.

Oh yeah, and almost every vendor had gluten free things! The bakers had gluten free breads, the food stands had gluten free things (buckwheat crepes for $8 and empanadas for $4), and the snack providers had gluten free displays. I am so pleased to be in a place where the fresh food I'm finding seems to always offer tasty gluten free options that are not just salads. I am almost worried to come back to the US, after feeling normal in diet here.

Actually, it does seem harder to buy packaged foods here that are gluten free. But I am okay with that, for the most part. That just means there are less temptations with which I want to stuff my face. Though I'd love to know what a Tim Tam tastes like. Or an ANZAC bikkie. Dare I get sick one day and taste all of these mysterious confections?

Changing topics completely, I have been thinking a lot about my future and questioning my interests in a PhD. I'm meeting a lot of mildly miserable PhD candidates here, and there seems to be the running theme of poverty, demoralization, and overall anxiety. I'm not really confident that I would be willing (and able) to emotionally stomach that lifestyle for four years of my life. Especially in my early 30's! While I am passionate about toilets, the idea that toilets may be my demise makes me depressed in more than one way.

So I went to my funders at IWC yesterday to talk it out. I chatted with Dr.Brian, who was really helpful and non-judgmental about my feelings and thoughts about everything. After an hour of talking about my interests and personality and what I want to do for a career, he agreed that it seems that a PhD may not be what I need to get me where I want to go.

I just want to teach, I keep saying - teaching adults - but I thought that meant I had to get a PhD in order to fulfill that dream. Apparently not. Brian reminded me of an emerging field in NGO-land called environmental education. In this setting, I could teach people in developing countries about toilets and business development as a trainer or facilitator of learning. I felt relief when I considered a way to teach/train/facilitate/whatever without having to get a PhD. The idea of four years of my life to a non-source of income puts me in panic mode, but now I feel like there are ways for me to get myself where I want without that path. It also is in alignment with how I want to make sure my practice is accessible to anyone, and not just rich kids at a university. I am really into the idea that people from all over could take my classes and apply the knowledge for their own lives. Perhaps I should work at a community college and offer MOOCs, after all.

Maybe a PhD would make sense later in the game of life, and maybe it's not required for me to do my thing, after all. Or maybe I'll do it anyway. Who knows! I have a year.

Older and Socialable

I have been grappling with a feeling I'm not used to lately. When I was younger, traveling long term felt extremely exciting, and I felt nimble and able to move around without much hassle. Over the last year or two, however, I can feel myself starting to slow down in my long-term travel plans. I am less interested in moving all over the globe constantly, and more interested in shorter travel itineraries with a home base somewhere (that "where" is still a big question mark). I feel like I'm looking around for a home base, where I want to settle down.

It kind of feels like my wheels are getting rusted up, or are just harder to move. Kind of like an old vehicle that needs a lot of greasing up to get anywhere. It is a lot more work to move. This feeling unsettles me, as I love traveling and have always felt my best when on the go. I don't know, maybe I'm changing as a person as I age, and I'm wanting something more solid - though I have set that "solid" bar pretty low so far. Or maybe I just want to know that I won't be alone every time I get up and move somewhere else. I'm working on it.

Despite this downer feeling, some fun things have still been going on. I went to a networking event last week for young water professionals with a group called AWA. Much to my surprise, the event was mostly a panel for the attendees on how to network. I have always assumed everyone learns how to network in school, but I guess not. In business school we did, anyways - it was practically graded! I appreciated the lecture, and learned little nuggets of usefulness, but overall I had to remind myself that I am not coming from the same place as everyone else in the water world. I come from the other side of the world, in more ways than one. In the time we did get to network, I ended up chatting up with a few fascinating people, including one of the panelists who essentially seemed like who I'll be in 15 years time.

Since living in Brisbane, it's become very clear just how much of an extrovert I am. Especially in the classroom. Out of 19 students in my program, we are all pretty confident that I’m the only extrovert out of all of us. Most are engineers, and I guess it makes sense that they would be introverts, but I am not used to being the only extrovert around me. I know extroversion versus introversion is a scale and all, but it seems like I'm definitely strongly on one side of that scale. It’s a bit unsettling at times, because I feel like I’m extremely chatty in class….and there are some attributes to being an introvert about which I'm envious. On the other hand, my classmates comment on my networking abilities and how I am able to pick up a conversation with most people in any situation.

I had Sunday brunch with the Bus Boys (Drew & Nelson) and ended my Sunday enjoying sangria with some of their friends, which was really fun. One of the ladies in the group has offered me her mountain bike on loan so I can more freely practice my bicycling skills in the city. I think I may take her up on the offer.

Other than that, I've been working hard on classwork around the clock for the most part. Nothing new and exciting to report while I continue my assimilation into Aussie culture. Except they're a lot more comfortable walking around barefoot on public streets than I am used to.

Housing Drama: Resolved

Busy assignments and long days of classwork aside, this has been quite a rough week.

I had my first negative experience with an Aussie here. It manifested as a crazy roommate situation where I had to move out right away. Don't worry, I have moved into a new place today that is safe and quiet and not too far from where my last place was. With sane roommates.

The roommate fiasco definitely put a damper on my experience here in Australia for the last week. I really started to question my life decisions and if this was all a good idea or not. I was wondering if I am on the wrong path because some stranger did not like how I cleaned his kitchen. Strangest to me was that not even a week before the same stranger was planning road trips we could share with each other. He even offered me Valium (much to my shock) - I politely declined.

The most aggravating part is that the whole situation blew up on the very day I had a big interview with a higher education institution for a teaching job, and I am almost certain that it made me mess up the interview. I had been crying for a good part of the day during class. Once I had gotten to the interview, I had a puffy face and feeling pretty devastated about life, and I was supposed to put on a good show for an employer. I may have sounded overly interested in the teaching position. Perhaps I didn't express myself very well. In any case, I have not heard back since.

But I also am unsure how comfortable I was with the general layout of the interview. It was an extremely casual interview to me; they did not ask me questions about my qualifications or my best qualities. Instead, it was more about logistics. Having had a bad day and really liking the idea of being stable in at least employment, I of course tried to push the American style of interviewing and explained my awesomeness to the two interviewers excessively....but that might have been what made it not go so well. Now I know.

Despite the traumas, my most pleasant surprise during super-stressful week was the support I found in my classmates. There are 18 of them and are all from different parts of the planet - from Australia to Zambia. But our different backgrounds didn't seem to matter this week. Every single classmate took time to see how I was doing and offered any help they could muster between classes and studying. Some gave me phone numbers of landlords in need of tenants, some searched for rooms for me, and some even offered couches for my temporary placement. Many offered to help me move out of my bad situation and rough up a few idiots should it be needed. It's felt like I've found a great reserve of lifelong friends who have been there for me for ages only this week. I am feeling so glad that I joined this program, even if just for the people.

I ended up taking one of the classmates on her couch offer for a couple days. Kyle and her boyfriend (Chris) helped me move my heavy bags of things out and in apartments (7 minutes each time) and let me crash on their futon while I hunted frantically for a new place. Chris looked around all macho and ready to fight for me, which was both amusing and humbling. I think I owe them my first born. Or at least a lot of meals.

And living with them was actually fun! They are simply two wonderful and humorous people, and I am so glad I got to hang out with them more, even if it was brief.

But now I am really understanding the important of having a home really is. Having moved about four times over the last 2 months has been exhausting, and I am actually starting to consider having a home where my things can stay put forever. Even when I travel. I cannot believe I just said that.

On being an outsider

Pink Pangea article on being an outsider:
http://www.pinkpangea.com/2015/03/5-ways-to-cheer-up-when-you-feel-like-an-outsider/

The Night Life

Something I have been enjoying about Brisbane is being pleasantly surprised that life does, in fact, happen out of NYC. There is always something to do here…if you have the money - the issue being that most things cost a pretty penny. Sometimes, though, you just have to go do something and choke back the tears as you watch precious cash melt out of your hands.

What I’m trying to say is that yesterday, after a challenging exam, Photosynthesis Drew picked me up and we went to see a show at the Brisbane Comedy Festival. In New Farm Park, there’s this old powerhouse that the city converted into something like a multiplex for culture. There are restaurants and bars folded into different parts of the massive building, and art speckling walls here and there. There are also a lot of independent rooms where several comedy shows can perform at once. I am always keen on learning more about the nuances of a culture by seeing how they enjoy jokes.

We got the tickets for a Melbourne-based comedian. During the performance I struggled a bit with the cultural references and her dark humor. I thought that maybe I’m just too cold or dull to understand the glory of comedy in Australia. Thankfully, when we left the set, Drew mentioned that he also wanted to give the woman the number to a therapist nearby. So at least I know that, in some ways, humor between the US and Australia are not completely separate. That said, there were still a lot of things lost on my American ways - I was reminded that I am not near home and still have a lot to learn about the nuanced details of Australian culture.

Drew’s friends were there, and I ended up hanging out with a large group of Aussies – my first time since I've been here! (It’s so easy to socialize with fellow foreigners when a foreigner, but locals are often harder to meet.) I relished watching a group of local friends interact comfortably with each other, without much interruption for clarification or cultural explanations (even if I didn't know what they were talking about for some of the time). It was refreshing in some sense to see the “normalcy” happen in front of me, and I loved every second of it. Also, everyone was incredibly super and friendly – a constant I've noticed with all Aussies I've met. I had a blast joking with all of them, even if I was the odd man out in a sense.

We shut the place down, but the group was not quite done hanging out. So we ended up in Fortitude Valley. I have been told legends of this area, and I've gathered that Fortitude Valley is a place where, if you go after graduating college, may earn you a few raised eyebrow from your friends. It’s kind of like St. Mark’s Place in NYC, or Mardi Gras on Bourbon Street in New Orleans (not like I've ever been). In the day, it’s kind of quiet. But at night? It’s buzzing with people and bacchanalian rituals. Girls are clad in scandalously short dresses (how DOES that not ride up and expose your entire booty?!) and the bass booming from all of the clubs echo in the last-night food shops thriving with drunk diners. Cops hang out on the corners, watching for places where they may need to intervene. This is truly the only place at night to dance, drink, and party.

If you know me now, you might understand that I may have been a bit out of my element, truly. I dance on the street with myself, and two glasses of wine and I need to be walked home. But, as I am in a new place, the answer is (almost) always “yes!” to new experiences. And the company was great, so I felt compelled to continue to fun evening. We ended up in a comfortable bar that had a pop/funk cover band playing for dancing people my age and older. We danced and laughed for the remainder of the evening – I felt like a college kid again a little bit, being out so late. One of the guys in the group was very thin and danced as if he was a cartoon character; I wish I had filmed it to share the supernatural phenomenon I got to observe with his skills.

I got home at 3 in the morning. I'll be going to bed early tonight. I should start cashing in my pension, now...if I had one, that is.

Bikes, Magpies, and Consumerist Cultures

It's been a really hectic week full of rough starts, frustrating work, and unexpected tasks. I had a solo presentation on Tuesday (I did fairly well, considering grading here is less forgiving than in the US) and I have an exam tomorrow morning. I've been feeling frayed and honestly would like to be able to curl up into a ball in my bedroom and hide for a week or so.

But! Today I rode a bike for real. I have been working on the stationary bike over the last week, trying to balance out my hips, and I have been doing leg muscle exercises in the mornings. Will all of this, my confidence with bikes has still been low, especially after last week's misadventures and tumbles (I've got a leg of bruises). Today after class, however, Yoga Pascale put me and a bike on a running track for a while and I went around perhaps six times without stopping! And then we went off to a little secluded road and I kept going!!! No falls, no dumps into a ditch, and (almost entirely) no running into obstacles unintentionally! That has put a bit of a bounce in my step.

As I have been emotionally/mentally/physically preparing myself for riding bikes, I have been observing bikers in Brisbane wearing strange dagger-like sticks in their helmets. I've seen grass and cable ties sticking out here and there, and I've wondered if they're in some kind of peculiar biking club. I read something yesterday, though, that makes so much more sense.

The magpies.

Magpies are these birds that are everywhere around here...and they're territorial bastards. There are public signs that warn pedestrians of "swooping birds". If you're anywhere remotely close to a nest, you're eligible for a violent bird swooping at your head and clawing the hell out of your face/scalp. I've actually had some of them swoop into my hair a bit on outside benches before class. I've been lucky that they've just swooped.

But when you're on a bike, they'll come at you and make a mess of your face. These pointy helmet protrusions are a solution to this, apparently. Though this definitely makes me more fearful about trying to ride around town with what little bike skills I have, I am working to get over the fear of potential hazards. I've made a mental note to put some ties on my helmet.

I celebrated my successful bicycle adventures with a beloved Bundaberg soda. Bundaberg soda is something I cannot describe to others, other than angels singing joyfully in your mouth. It's a great experience, I swear.

Another note is the labels used to identify lovers here - it's pretty gender neutral. I've heard a lot of people talk about their "partners" (as opposed to boyfriend/girlfriend) in conversations, and it often catches me off guard. In the US (I believe), that word is often associated with LGBT relationships. Here, it's to identify the difference between a juvenile relationship and an adult, mature, long-term relationship. I think I like it and should do the same.

Last bit: We have to do something for class on Monday where we have to dress up and showcase our native country's culture. Some of the regions, like Latin America and South Asian, have figured out their food/performance/dress rather quickly. Us North Americans have been stumped for about two weeks on what we're going to do. To get ideas, I've asked some of the others what the perception on American culture is. So far, I've gotten: junk food, pizza, hot dogs, Coca-Cola, and country songs. Oh, and money. Mexican Yanet mentioned that she always thinks of American women in power suits and tennis shoes, since in cities she's seen a lot of women running around to board meetings like that. It's kind of true, I guess - we do like to run around in mis-matched shoes and outfit get-ups, I just never had thought of that! Someone mentioned that we should reenact some big TV show for the class, which is kind of impractical.

It is funny to think about how American culture is fragmented and disengaged in some ways. I have always been a bit envious of friend's with a cultural heritage that is deep and rich and provides them with something to which they can point and say, "Ahha, that is my culture!" Americans, we kind of borrow culture from others here and there...but we've a culture of consumerism, or maybe just a culture-less culture, to an extent. I can't put my finger on it exactly. Even rodeo and cowboy culture is Spanish, and our signature dishes are really regional and not national.

For food, Denver Meg is baking an apple pie (that's pretty American, right?), I might bake chocolate chip cookies, Yoga Pascale is bringing chips, and Cali Michael is bringing a couple liters of Coke. Other than that, we're still at a loss, and need to figure something out by Monday. Any ideas??

Another Pink Pangea - On Trust

Haven't written about this on this blog yet, but I have taken out a story from here for this piece: http://www.pinkpangea.com/2015/03/how-brisbane-is-teaching-me-to-trust-again/

To Be Homesick...or Not To Be Homesick

Denver Meg and I were bearing with the malaise of another hot day consumed with research by going to Guzman Y Gomez - the Australian version of Chipotle (though it might actually be healthier and tastier). As we sipped our ginger beers and poked around at chips and guac, she asked me what I missed about the US so far.

It's a good question. I find that about a month after I move overseas is when the novelty starts wearing off and the realization that I will be here for a while kicks in. This is when I start missing things from home. You might even call it being homesick.

But today I was stumped.

I mean, there are those people in the US I love that I miss a lot, and the ability to see and talk with them daily is something I crave. I definitely miss my loved ones terribly. But when it comes to other stuff? I am left a bit speechless.

Australia is, after all, a functioning industrialized country. Most of the things I can get in the US I can get here, or at least find an equivalent. In fact, I've been surprised to see some of the products on the grocery shelves I know from home (for example, I found out some of those health foods I love are intercontinental).

Meg and I both hoed and hummed for a little bit, surprised that we have adjusted pretty well to life here. She mentioned that the only time she really remembers she's abroad is when she goes grocery shopping and realizes that the packaging and brands are foreign to her. I think I agree with that.

But, being an over-thinker, I feel compelled to explore this exercise more. The lists below are what I came up with today. I have to bear in mind that my list is less about the entire country, and more about my experiences in New England and NYC.

What I miss from the US:

• The NYC subway, because I like being able to read while I am in transit. Here, I still get carsick on the buses (especially with that one driver who stops abruptly. Every. Single. Time.)
• Neutrogena makeup, but that's not really a miss and more of an inconvenience. I am sure I will find something here I can use.
• Trash bins on every block, because that's not a thing here. Surprisingly, there's little trash floating around despite the lack of bins. But I'd still like to throw away my nectarine pit while I'm walking around.
• Stores opened whenever I need them, since shops here close around 6pm, and sometimes you really need to go buy a bra at 9pm. The grocery stores are usually open until 9pm, so at least I won't starve to death.
• Unlimited wifi, but that's mostly because I cannot sign a contract with internet providers here. Instead, I have to pay as I go. It's definitely not cheap, let me tell you.
• Stick deodorant, since it's either roll-on or spray here. I think those are both gross options, but then again maybe stick is equally gross and I've just grown used to it.
• Cold water out of the tap, because water out of the tap is lukewarm (at best). It makes cooling off in this incredible heat a bit more laborious.

What I do not miss from the US (or, what I may miss from Australia):

• Vitamin D, because the intense sun here is giving me major daily mood boosters. Several times while Skyping Mr.Alex has mentioned how my mood has significantly perked up since getting here, and the only reason I can figure is the fact that I'm under a big fat Vitamin D pill every day that rains into my immune system.
• Waiting in lines, because it's not so stressful here. I mentioned to Aussie Kylie a few days ago how people don't lose their tempers or huff around while in lines that take a bit longer than normal. She looked at me genuinely confused and responded, "Well, what else is there to do but simply wait??" Oh, I don't know....throw a tantrum and rip off your shirt before biting the patron next to you? Locals manage the laid-back lifestyle very well.
• Gluten free as a novelty, as I have found a whole lot more GF options in stores and restaurants here than I have in the US (even in NYC)! Waiters know what it is almost instantly, and that's kind of neat. The only times I've accidentally consumed gluten has been from my own stupidity.
• Having to swipe for everything, since cards here are mostly taps. The transit card is tapped onto a pad that counts how much money you've spent on your trip. Credit cards are gently tapped onto a card machine, and the transaction is automatic. It's really nice, and your cards don't get scraped up as easily.
• Sugar in my bread, and I am not even really sure why that's a thing in the US. Bread doesn't need sugar. The bread here certainly doesn't. Actually, this might apply to a number of other foodstuffs in the US, too...
• Single-flush options, because I like conserving water. Why doesn't the US have more flush options so when you urinate you don't have to waste so much water? Australian toilets seem to unanimously offer a half flush and a full flush, and that makes sense.

I'm sure what I miss will come out more as the year forges on. For now, though, I'm happy to feel pretty well-adjusted.

Singing & Biking

I would like to say that I've been kept from blogging because I've been diligently going to classes and studiously keeping on top of assignments. I feel like that would portray me as a do-gooder student with bright horizons ahead of her.

But that's not really how I function - I always have far more going on than is probably recommended. I will definitely have to reign myself in for the next 16 months and scale back my curiosity/social likfe so that I can do well in this program. Even today I woke up feeling like I could barely breathe because I could feel all of the day's tasks putting pressure on my shoulders. Or maybe it was oppressive, humid heat we have been surviving lately. It is hard to tell.

I tried out a choir on campus Wednesday evening. I miss singing, and it was a good opportunity to meet more people. I got into the room and shyly made my way to a seat (yes, I can be shy). After a brief rundown about the choir, I was offered a seat in the Tenor's section. For those unaware of how choirs work, the singing levels go (from highest to lowest): Women - Soprano and Alto; Men - Tenor and Bass. As you may have noticed, I was delegated to the men's section, yet again (the last time was in France), to bless the men with my sultry low voice.

The practice was confusing to me as everyone else knew the music and the pieces were sung in fragments and quickly swapped out for other songs. Being that I didn't have the music on hand, I was especially confused about what I was singing. Luckily, Tenor Nelson (the other guy from the bus stop incident) sat next to me and let me clutch his music in my sweaty hands while I followed the practice in a daze. I was surprised, as well, to see that the choir practice was 3 hours long (roundabout). Considering my workload for my program, I am wondering I have time for the choir (with that amount of commitment) after all.

Something else about the choir (and most clubs on campus) that has turned me off is the cost. Unlike in the US, universities in Australia (or at least UQ) do not offer free extracurriculars. The gym costs an annual fee for students, on top of the normal school costs. The gym PLUS the pool is over $600 for the year - a number that made me gasp. Group clubs also charge a fee for participation, in addition to the stipends they receive from the university. The dance club has a fee. The yoga club has a fee. The choir costs $40 for the year. Yeah sure, it's not that much in the grand scheme of things, but right now I'm loathe to sacrifice any cash where I'm not completely sure it will be put to full use.

In other news, I am practicing my bicycle skills finally! I decided to force myself into learning how to ride a bike while I'm here by buying an annual pass for the city bike program. I am learning how to ride a bike now, and I suck at it.

Yoga Pascale has been patiently and wonderfully dedicating time over the last week to help me figure out how to stay afloat on a bike, and I am forever indebted to her kindness and support. It's pretty clumsy to look at (no, I will not be videotaping our lessons), as I am used to using my ample hips to drive my movements. That means I fall over a LOT on the bikes. She encourages me when I get aggravated after I've slipped and fumbled, and she runs next to me while I pedal to remind me to keep my hips level so I don't bump into the tree I already hit a couple of times.

I now understand that I am truly someone who likes to face her obstacles head-on...because I've hit a lot of things so far.

Yoga Pascale also has been providing my classmates and me really great yoga sessions after our academic classes. We asked her to teach us so we could all feel better physically and emotionally after our grueling days learning. She obliged, and I must say I really like her way of leading the class - she keeps you relaxed and calm while you fight a hard position, and congratulates you when it's over. If you're ever in the area, I HIGHLY recommending letting her peacefully lead you into a downward-dog for an hour.

I ran into Photosynthesis Drew on Thursday night, and he invited me to join him at a Sustainability Meetup dinner. I was happy to get to hang out with a new friend AND meet even more Aussies (...to the detriment of my workload). I learned a lot about sustainable projects in Australian and New Zealand. There was a part where one of the people there described all of the ways the US has negatively impacted the rest of the world through media and the "American Way of Life". I'm not very patriotic...but even I felt compelled to defend the changing American lifestyles and shifting national interests by the younger generations. Perhaps I should have reminded them that Rupert Murdoch was Australian at birth...

Last night the water ladies and I met up for some wine and cheese by the riverfront. It was a perfect night of chatting about school, joking around, and sharing stories with each other. The wine was great, the cheese brie (also known as delicious). The company was fantastic. It was a relaxing way to end a busy week and kick off a stressful weekend. We had to hide the wine from the police (no drinking in public here, either) by filling our water bottles with the vino...which means we're definitely in college again.

Another food note: Beetroots are put on burgers here sometimes. I ended up getting this jacked burger a few days ago with a beetroot, tomatoes, some pineapple...and a sunnyside egg (?!?!?!)...on top of a beef burger. You know, that might sound like a horrible combination, but it was actually quite tasty. I've been told beetroot are put on many other things here as well, but I'm going to have to take this introduction slowly, methinks.

Learning in Progress

Learning takes a toll, sometimes. I don't mean that in a bad way - I simply mean that when I get home from a full day's worth of learning, I just want to stare at the ceiling and hum pop songs to myself all night.

Nothing new to report, except that the humidity plus heat have made it hard to do much outside of class.

I am learning a lot, though!

Day Trip to Hinterlands

Today my Aussie classmate Kylie invited a couple of us to go on a day trip north to the Sunshine Coast Hinterlands and enjoy the view of the Glasshouse Mountains facing the beaches to the Pacific Ocean.

We hopped into her car under the brutal sun, and made our way an hour or so north, fighting traffic congestion and sunbeams along the path.

It was totally worth it.

She first stopped us off in Mary Cairncross Park up in the Great Dividing Range. The Great Dividing Range is the hill/mountain range that starts in New South Wales and heading all the way towards the top of the country in Queensland. It traps the moisture on the coast from the dry Outback, which is home to the red earth we all attribute to the country. There’s a rain forest lurking in the range, and we could hear the animals in it…but we got heavily distracted by some wild wallabies hopping around the bushes. We ogled for a while at one wallaby (they were so small!!), only to find an even smaller one (a BABY!) hiding under some greenery nearby. I cannot tell you the giddiness I experienced seeing these wild little cute balls of hop. I can probably die feeling fully accomplished today.

We wrenched ourselves away from the cuteness to view the lookout towards the Glasshouse Mountains. According to Kylie, they used to be volcanic way back in the day, so they are kind of solitary, puckered mountains off in the distance (hence, house). When the British were exploring the coasts, the quartz-like material in these mountains made them glisten in the sunlight and reflect much like glass (hence, glass). The view of these mountains, with misty clouds quietly coating the ground and the lush green along the rest of the terrain, was breathtaking. The landscape felt almost mythical.

We celebrated our astonishing view by driving to a nearby town called Maleny for something equally grand: cheese. Apparently Maleny Cheese is famous in these parts of the world, and I can tell you I can understand why. It’s really tasty. I bought some affordable wheels of aged cheese, though I passed on the camel yogurt and buffalo feta. Maybe next time.

We also drove past more beautiful green hills and watery lakes to visit a wonderfully cute and charming town called Montville. It’s riddled with sweet shops for artisan foods and local artists, and (like Red Hook in NY State) seems like a perfect romantic getaway in a quiet, foresty town. We stopped by a fudge shop and purchased some very colorful and delicious fresh fudge.

Kyle brought us to another lookout to see another view of the ocean from the range. I don’t know what it would be like to live in such an idyllic area all the time, with the cute shops and beautiful backdrops, but I think I might be willing to try someday. There was a great air of peace around us all day while we discovered the hinterlands.

Our final stop was at the beach called Caloundra or Pelican Point (I wasn’t clear). The beach had blue water and silky white sand. The waves were actively rolling into the beach as we enjoyed the ocean breeze. The area seemed so perfect; families were running around on the grass lawn overlooking the beach and everything was clean and pretty. Standing on the beach, looking at the peace surrounding me, it was hard to remember that there is so much strife and hardship going on in the world. For a moment, it was as if everything was in its right place.

We ate mounds of grilled fish and chips while the sun started to fade over the buildings. I came home feeling spiritually moved…and full of good food.