Leaving Brisbane

When I returned to Brisbane, I was surprised with the challenges I had with readjusting. I had major jet lag from the flying, and people commented for a week or two that I seemed flat or unwell. I’m not really sure what was going on, but I was hurting for a little bit after returning from SE Asia. Either I missed the lifestyle I had grown accustomed to in Phnom Penh, or I was recuperating from months of being sick off and on there. Either way, it was hard.

I do know that I was struggling to adjust to the bus system in Brisbane. In most of my adventures through SE Asia I was used to hailing a tuk-tuk driver with a simple nod of my head and for small denominations of dollars get carried to anywhere in the area I desired to see. In Bangkok, there’s a transit system that operates regularly, much like the NYC subway system only above ground. In Brisbane, on the other hand,  I lived in a place where buses were maybe every 30 minutes normally needed at least one transfer somewhere to get where I wanted to go. There was a lot more planning that had to happen for me to get anywhere.

Brisbane, after all, is a very large suburban-urban area. Or, as many people told me time and time again, Brisbane is a big country town.

Which meant I was at the mercy of the usually-late TransLink buses that would take me from Point A to Point B..with about 20 points between the two. During Brisbane’s cool winter time. With shops closing at 6pm every day (as opposed to SE Asia’s “open late” culture). Being a famously impatient and cold-adverse person, I did not take to these readjustments easily.

Most of my first four weeks of being back emphasized finishing my piece de resistance – my Final Project for the Masters of Integrated Water Management! I am pretty good at time and project management, so I was ahead of schedule and was able to calmly hunker down and polish my 70-page paper over and over again until I could submit it several days early. I booked several health appointments during this time (I wanted to check everything before I left since it was cheaper there than in the US), where most professionals remarked how calm I seemed considering how close my deadline was.

Admittedly, my calm demeanor and confident project management did not prevent me from stress eating. And I did have a hospital run a few weeks after returning…but that was mostly because I had had my medication adjusted just before and my health insurance told me I needed to make sure I was not reacting adversely to the change. Unfortunately, I had another infuriatingly bad run with the public hospital system in Australia (with a doctor yelling at me about how we are all going to die someday while I was asking him if I was okay) that may haunt me for a while to come. Don’t worry – I am still fine, just angry at a cocky doctor who was less than helpful with a simple concern.

Also, one week before submitting my paper there was a full-time conference on WASH in Brisbane. This was a huge week, as I was wearing several different hats every day at the conference, depending on the audience and time of day. I was working my consulting job a few hours during each day of the conference while I also represented my masters program…while trying much as possible to network for my own emerging WASH career. In some ways, the week was overwhelming because of the amount of people I talked to, but I also felt in my element. I am a social person who is hungry for learning and likes to network, after all. It was also very fun to see those I met in Phnom Penh and throughout my consulting/education come together and weave in and out for a few days.

And then, I submitted my paper.

I submitted it early, and it was anticlimactic. I was expecting some kind of little trumpet announcing my completion, or maybe a hug. Instead, I simply got an email saying, “Assessment Received”. And that was that. A few days later my friends from the class got together to celebrate our completion of the program – only then did I feel like I was really done.

Of course, my six weeks back in Australia included reuniting with friends and seeing people I had met throughout the last year and a half. I met up with friends as much as I could before I left – for dinner, for lunch, for festivals, for walks.

Some of my closer friends and I took a few days to rent a cabin in the Bunya Mountains and enjoy some relaxing freedom with each other before we started to return to our own countries. On our trip, we stocked amazing amounts of food that we cooked between long hikes around the mountain trails. There were wallabies carpeting the landscape with little joeys poking out of pouches everywhere! The air was clean (and COLD!) and smelled like trees and wooden stoves. At night, we’d go outside and gaze at the Milky Way in the darkness of a quiet, lamp-less place. We talked about funny and serious things over wine and movies. We fought off red-bellied black snakes before munching on trail mix. The retreat was a lovely respite from the rest of the world.

I worked until I left to return to the US (I am still consulting, too) so I did not have a lot of downtime before leaving. But that’s okay, because it meant I was busy and productive, which I like. 

A few days ago, I got on a redeye plane that took me out of my Australian Chapter of Life and placed me soundly back into the US for the next chapter that I have yet to open. I got a bit emotional while I left, but by now I have moved back and forth so much that it's become almost standard procedure for me.

In reflection about Australia, people asked me if I would take a job and live there. The answer is, I’m not sure.

The whirlwind 18 months have been so incredible and eye-opening that I feel it really gave me a chance to learn about my adult self and become more me. Australia was definitely a key piece to my transformation and incredible experience. It’s definitely a beautiful and peaceful place with more adorable and fuzzy animals than you can shake a stick at. And the people I’ve made friends with in Australia are outstanding and supportive friends. I am so glad that they are in my life and I wish I could safely bottle them up and take them with me wherever I end up. 

That said, I’m used to a different lifestyle that lets me be more mobile without a car or worrying about early business closing hours. I’m not used to watching TV in the evening - I'm more about  exploring interesting social events in random parts of the world. In some ways, the Australian culture is perfect and family-friendly and relaxed and secure…but I don’t think it’s for me. I like messy, adventurous, buzzing, aggressive places and cultures…like what I've experienced in NYC and Phnom Penh. I like dirt and tightly-packed streets where I can escape for a weekend. I like knowing that I have a small patch of city I can walk around and get everything I want without taking a 45-minute bus where I will feel carsick. 

I think if I was a quieter person with a lot less demands on a place (i.e. free and diverse activities, late-night options), and with a family to care for, I would jump on the opportunity to stay in sunny Australia. For now, I think I will love my Australian Chapter and look forward to visits back for friends and vacations.

Perth

I know I'm over a month behind on writing blog posts. I have been finishing my masters thesis...and consulting...and tying together the pieces before I leave for the US. Better late than never?

I should probably start from when I reentered Australia.

I came in through Western Australia, stopping in Perth for a few days. It so happens that stopping over in Perth from Southeast Asia before heading back to Brisbane saved me hundreds of dollars, and I have a friend in the area I was keen on visiting. Also, I had the rare opportunity to see one of my absolute favorite animals in the world, wild! It was a pretty good deal.

My friend met me at the airport. Upon seeing me at the gate, she handed me a sweater. After putting it on, she got me into her car so I could drop my heavy bags off at her house before adventuring around the area.

The weather in Perth compared to Phnom Penh was shockingly cold (I was shivering a bit). All of my heat rashes (I had quite a few on my limbs)from living in boiling Cambodia started to heal immediately after landing. I felt ill-equipped to deal with weather, though, as I had packed only tank tops and light shirts that breathe well while sweating. I was cold.

The culture shock from SE Asia to Australia was subtle and easy. The cleanliness of the streets surprised me for a while, as I was now used to streets lined with dust and dirt and litter and other curious objects (eg, half sets of sandals). I had learned how to listen for oncoming traffic so that I could leap out of their way and avoid injury. Here, the streets had grass and trees to divide the pedestrians from the cars, and the only trash you see is safely contained in bins, ready for pick-up. Here, everything looks so shiny and polished compared to what I had gotten used to.

The other surprise I had was the lack of people on the streets. There were so many streets, but I wondered where all of the people were. In SE Asia, it was a rare moment to be alone and free of other people. Now, the place seemed empty while we drove.

And we drove around a lot. For those who don't know, I am easily carsick and don't personally enjoy being in cars for long periods of time. This has been the case in Brisbane all year, where everything is accessible by riding in buses through long stretches of suburbia. Perth seemed to be formatted like Brisbane, with lots of roads and highways to drive. Aside from the discomfort of long drives, driving around did help me get to see the area quickly; given I only had a few days to see everything, I was glad to see the country gliding by my window.

We explored Freemantle a bit. Freemantle is kind of like a cute, quiet area of Perth that grew legs and walked down the shore a few miles. It is an adorable area with cute shops and pleasant cafes down small streets. It also used to be where a big prison was located, which is now a museum and performance space. We didn't get to go to the prison because of my limited time, but we visited the harbor area with a few older stone buildings we could walk around before eating fish & chips for lunch at an open-air harbor joint called Kaili's. Oh yeah, I was also having culture shock (and still am) to the high prices of Australia. This place is not cheap!

The second day in Perth was the piece de resistance of my trip. We woke up early, got to the port, and hopped onto a ferry to Rottnest Island. This, my friends, is where the adorable, angelic, absolutely amazing QUOKKAS LIVE!!!!

To say I was beside myself with excitement would probably not do justice the giddiness I had all day. I mean, I have been loving quokkas from afar for years! Finally, I got to go to quokka paradise and pet them! I got to potentially love them and rally the quokkas to happiness and freedom, with me, forever!

Well, I didn't expect the quokkas to be little sugar junkies, though. There are bakeries and sandwich/candy shops dotted near the harbor, and the little quokkas by the shops have grown accustomed to tourists dropping tasty things on the ground for them to try. The quokkas near the shops rummaged around for little morsels of chocolate or sugar or other highly-addictive substances that could cause major damage to the health of these succulent-eating marsupials. It was heartbreaking to be turned down by quokkas while holding a succulent leaf in exchange for someone nearby who had sugar-coated hands and a piece of banana (other tourists were idiots and kept feeding quokkas things that are not good for them). One local guy came over and told me that some of these quokkas by the shops have been losing chunks of fur as a result of eating sugary sweets instead of succulents. I was devastated to hear this. Later on, I saw a little quokka huddled in the corner of a shop's alley with Snickers wrapper in its delicate little paws. I shouted and ran over to grab the wrapper from the poor little fluffball, and it gave me a confused and sad look as I threw away the wrapper saying in near-tears, "No, quokka, no!"

Outside of the shop area, the beaches on the island were gorgeous and wild, and less-addicted quokkas came over and investigated our squee-ing selves for a little while. We tried our best to master the quintessential quokka selfie without intimidating the meek little things. They were sweet and gentle, and I was in love so much I barely could get myself to leave them. We also went for a quokka tour to learn more about their lifestyles and stumbled across a heavily-quokka-ed area where we oggled and awwwed for a while, trying to lure them to love us (I wasn't alone in this endeavor!). It was a heavenly day, and I could not have felt more accomplished in life.

We also enjoyed some snacks and toured the island on a bus, finishing our adventures with lunch at the port - I got myself an unprecedented amount of chili mussels for consumption.

I got another surprise during my short visit to Perth - I had found out that an old friend from NYU I hadn't seen in a decade lived in the area! We ended up meeting in Freemantle and enjoyed drinks and dinner with each other as we caught up on life over a few hours. I was so pleased to hear how she's doing and what has changed for both of us since last time we met. Reconnecting with old friends might be one of my favorite things in life.

On my last day, we visited the CBD of Perth. The buildings in Perth are big and loom over the streets in silence, but the city overall is a pretty small and compact place. Most of the places we wanted to visit (like museums) were unfortunately closed for the day, but we wandered a bit and I took in the quietness of the small city before getting on another plane to get back to Brisbane.

A Sydney Affair

Dad came and visited me last week for a (very) short stay. It was great to see him, as I've been missing family for a little bit, and we got to catch up over a few days.

We met up at the airport in Sydney after his long flight, and my hour-long jump, and made our way to the harbor.

We got to explore Sydney for a day or two together. I will say, despite seeing a limited portion of the city and not having a lot of time to explore, I really liked Sydney. It was vibrant and pretty, though it was a brief love affair. I felt like there were some hidden gems on the waterfront that I will hopefully get to see more on another visit.

I decided that Melbourne is a bit like the downtown of Manhattan (maybe a bit of Brooklyn too) in the sense that it is a lot of culture and food. Sydney, on the other hand, is more like uptown Manhattan - from 14th street up; it was crisp yet romantic.

My friend Esther and her partner met up with us as well and they ushered us around the city. It was so nice to have some people who actually know the city guide us along for a day. Also, they are both fantastic people, so their company with us was perfect for our daylong adventure.

We ate some fish & chips on the harbor and started our tour of the area on a cruise for a few hours. We took in the harbor area and admired the cliffs near Manly, as well as the expensive houses in nearby suburbs on the coast. The harbor really is lovely - I think it's great that Sydney is on the water, and the Sydney Opera House is as impressive in person as it seemed to me in pictures. It also helped that we had a beautiful day with barely a cloud in the sky. We didn't stop at the beaches because I wanted Dad to be able to relish the beaches in Queensland, and we barely had time to sit down and breathe while we ran around the city.

We wandered slowly through The Rocks, which was an adorable old area, despite having a pretty soiled history. We grabbed some drinks and ambled around a little while before stopping in for dinner at The Argyle, a fun outdoor bar area tucked away from the main streets.

One again in Australia, I was charmed by a harbor city.

We also got dressed up for a play at the Opera House. It was funny for me to realize how some of my impatience comes from being my dad's daughter - he was anxious that we weren't at the theater 45 minutes in advance! I have let my impatience melt away somewhat here, as I learned that it was a futile exercise in a country where everything is remarkably laid back.

We saw "Orlando" by Virginia Woolf, and I liked it a lot! Poor jet-lagged Dad passed out during the play, but I was captivated by a curious plot of someone who survived hundreds of years and changed sexes in the middle somewhere.  In some ways, it was the perfect play for me to see, as it was about learning how to understand and accept oneself while the world around them shifts and evolves.

The next day we went on one of those silly double-decker buses that tour cities for tourists with little time to explore - my idea! Our ride along the main drag of Sydney was interesting and I thought Hyde Park was great! I just wish I had had more time to get off of the bus and go a little deeper in some of the cuter areas, like Kings Cross.

Dad was anxious to get to the airport early for our flights to Brisbane, so our adventure of Sydney was cut short, and I ended up intimately acquainting myself with the insides of the domestic terminal for a few hours while I waited to fly back to Queensland. Now that I've got a taste for Sydney, though, I hope to go back and learn more about it in the future.

But, for now, there are other, further, more exotic adventures to be had. Starting tomorrow night!

The Accent That Never Was

I've been in Australia for a bit under nine months. Normally, when I live abroad, it takes a couple months (three or four) before I can start picking up how to speak like a local. In London, after a while I could confuse locals with my British lilt and pronunciation of "schedule". In Paris, I learned how to say certain words quickly with a Parisian accent, so as to avoid head spins in local shops.

By now I had expected to be speaking with a curly Outback drawl and abandoning the hard "r" and use of the word "afternoon" (Aussies read this as "arvo").

This time, though, I can't for the life of me get the accent.

While I hang out with locals and practice the accent (by obnoxiously repeating everything they say under my breath), I sound like an American doing a horrible job at a British accent. Sometimes, I start channeling several different types of Aussie accents with snippets of words in my otherwise very General American Accent.

What is frustrating about not acing the accent is that whenever I'm in public interacting with strangers, it becomes obvious I'm not from here. This means that, more often than not, the Aussie talking with me will pause somewhere in the exchange (whether it's ordering a smoothie, attending a yoga class, or networking) and ask me, "So, what are you here for exactly? Are you from Canada or USA?"

With an infuriatingly perfect Aussie accent!

On a side note: It is seen as polite to always ask Canada before considering a US passport, because Canadians can get sorely offended to be asked if they're American.

This exchange always takes some wind of of my sails because it reminds me of my temporary status. It also reminds me of my incredible failure at assimilating through adjusting my accent, something at which I'm normally so good.

And yet all Aussies I've met have nailed an American accent effortlessly, which only adds to my fury. They attribute it to Hollywood. I'm still not pleased.

For one thing, American voices are just plain loud, so compared to the more breathy accents of Australians, my voice nicely echos off of the buildings in the nearby suburb. We audibly stick out, and sometimes that is not what I'm going for.

Another thing is, I don't think my brain has been able to completely discern between the soft, mumbled accent of a Queenslander (where I am studying) to the more harsh twangs of a Victorian or New South Wales person. And bogan accents (aka hicks) are the ones I understand the best because of my watching of Kath & Kim when I was sick a few months ago. The accents here by region are subtle, yet noticeable after living here a while, and I still don't fully understand how to tease each separate type apart from the others.

I just saw an article come out about how the Aussie accent(s) first came to be. It says that it could stem from the early settlers being avid imbibers of alcohol, and their British accents got drawled out and warped by their drunkenness. I admit, this makes me feel better, as I reason that my decent British accent has not been able to develop into the complicated Australian one because I am not one who enjoys the spiked beverage very often, and therefore have little understanding of how to shift the "r" sound from regal to rough.

Maybe I will never be able to accomplish the Australian drawl. For now, I keep my conversations brief and end with a "Ta!" (which means "thanks"), mumbling as much as I can when asked for my order before running away.

The Australian accent is really difficult.

Holiday Surprises, Already

I was at the post office a few days ago mailing my passport off to the Vietnamese Embassy (more on that later) when I saw some odd holiday material staring at me in a basket. Christmas-related material.

There were two things that disturbed me about this encounter:
(1) It's October.
(2) It was a wombat wrapped in a wreath of ivy and poinsettias (I wish I had gotten a picture).

Let me start with the first disturbing thing; being that it's October, I had expected another, more festive holiday to appear in card stocks and decorations around. I mean Halloween. What I mean is, Australia is not about Halloween, really.

As an American, Halloween is a very important part of my holiday kick-off celebrations. In a way, it is what staves off December-related holidays for a while longer - it's the bread crumble that lures us to the holiday season with excitement.

And I love Halloween. I know some people see it as a capitalistic ploy to drug ourselves with sugar and buy things we don't need. But, for me, I see it as a holiday where I get to celebrate imagination and explore other-worldly realities without being considered a morbid occultist. I love watching Hocus Pocus while eating witches hats. As a kid, I loved going to school Halloween festivals to bob for apples, eat popcorn hands, and listen to the music alternating between "The Monster Mash" and "Thriller". It's a brief holiday that encourages people to get outside of their comfort zone and socialize with each other, maybe bonding over different topics drinking (let's say for example) a punch of ghoulish origins.

But Aussies are not keen on Halloween, and decorations are sparse. It does have a small following in pockets here and there, but I have found myself sitting in my room alone listening to YouTube Playlists of Halloween favorites while trying to find excuses to bake and share witches hats. This year I will have to miss the Halloween magic, sadly.

And I have so many costume ideas in my head!

Anyways, back to the issue of holidays cards two months in advance...

The second part of what bothered me was the poor wombat. Normally, in the Northern Hemisphere, that picture wouldn't bother me that much because it is getting colder, and kangaroos swaddled in red stockings would look comforting and appealing as I start bundling up.

But here, we are going into summer. I have been starting to sweat while standing outside in the shade. Thinking of a wombat surrounded by winter flora as I glistened in the warm post office seemed alarming to me. The Aussie animals wintry holiday stockings and sweaters in the other cards made me feel very sorry for the poor things being suffocated in warm attire. 

I asked Kylie about this, and she mentioned that there is a kind of romantic lure to the frigid winters around the holidays - perhaps the Aussies crave to be snowed on during the holidays, since the northern media have a stronghold on holiday movies and shows. They've grown up seeing us in ugly sweaters and turtlenecks, surrounding by a fire. Conversely, they are peeling off what few layers they have here so as not to melt into a puddle with the brewing heat.

I knew these things before coming here, too. I knew that Halloween wasn't celebrated as much in Australia. And I understood that the holidays would be during sweltering summer heat. I guess I didn't fully grasp what that would mean (or feel like) until I've started to be in it, now. And now that it's here, I am realizing how important this time of the year is to my memory bank, with the cool weather and celebratory atmosphere. I admit, I miss this part of the US right now (but that does not mean I miss the cold).

Fortunately, I plan on being in Vietnam for Xmas, so I shouldn't die from heat exhaustion.

Tasmania Mania

I just had my Spring Break 2015 trip with some friends!  

While many college-enrolled students would go somewhere they can relish in week-long debauchery, my friends and I had a different idea for our holiday - we went to Tasmania! No, not Tanzania. Tasmania, the little island off the southern coast of Australia, where the Tasmanian Devils originate. Tasmania is not known for its crazy nightlife – it’s known for its nature.

Five of us water ladies booked a six-day adventure through the island’s key natural destinations. We landed in Hobart, hopped into an intimately-sized car, and drove into the wilderness. I did not really keep track of the agenda for our trip, as I felt Colorado Meg and Malaysian Densie had already thought things through, so I essentially arrived at the airport on time, and followed them for much of the trip. I think Indian Pritha & Nepalese Niru may have had the same strategy as me on the trip.

I was a bit nervous about our trip. Five women together in a small car driving through the quiet hinterlands of Tassie sounded like it could very well become a chaos of tears and rage. Happily, we had a great time all around, and no one emerged maimed from the adventure.

My overall perception of Tasmania was one of pure, clean nature. The air was crisp and fresh and the temperature was brisk (though it did get cold with the Arctic winds blowing in). The landscape rolled with hills and mountains, and the greens that painted the earth was always incredible. Farms filled with sheep, cows, and Shetland Ponies guided us on each road. There was wildlife everywhere - sadly, that also means we met a lot of roadkill. The people were pleasant and helpful, as well as quiet like their island, as if the whole area was sitting in a constant Zen meditation while we journeyed around.

My biggest complaint about Tassie is not much of a complaint. While my friends were able to eat anything and feasted on decadent (at least I think) meals, my burden of gluten-free eating meant that all of my meals ended up being much healthier. For example, whenever they got fish and chips, my option was to get a salad with grilled fish on top. The downside is I did not get to enjoy some really rich food – the upside is that I did not feel gross by the end of the trip.

Okay, and the other complaint I have about Tassie is that the hole in the ozone layer lies just above the island. Which means I am currently a bright lobster red color all over my nose/chest/neck/ears. Reminder to self: never, ever!, leave the house without SPF on every inch of skin.

Day 1

We drove for a few hours on arrival and spent our first night in the Freycinet National Park so we could see Wineglass Bay in the morning. Freycinet is on the east coast and takes a bit of a drive through nowhere to get there. Not having expected just how remote our drive would be, we did not pick up anything to eat before getting in the car at lunch time, which means we had five rather hangry women hunting for food options on our scenic drive through the hilly lands. We grabbed fish and chips by a beach.

Once we arrived at our tree-laden cabin grounds, we realized our evening would be us keeping each other company and have a ladies’ night of wine and conversation….if only we could find a place to buy food and wine! Fortunately, the cabin area had a little country store, where we stocked up on cheese, wine, and crackers for our evening chatter.

Day 2

We woke up early in the morning to frosted windowpanes and got ready to hike Wineglass Bay. We arrived at the parking lot and got greeted by some very precocious wallabies (even one had a baby in her pouch!!), and we spent a good half-hour capturing their fluffy goodness as much as possible.

Then we hiked. Meg and Denise had been prepared for an intense and steep hike – the other three of us (Pritha – Niru – me) were thinking it would be a pleasant hike up and down a gentle hill to see the beach. We were wrong. We heaved and hyperventilated as we hauled ourselves over the rocky terrain and steep levels for a while before making it to a lookout. My fear of heights were probably the hardest part for me, as it slows me down significantly. I am glad that the others were sympathetic to my irrational whines.

I was thrilled to see that Wineglass Bay is just as beautiful in reality as it is in photographs. The white beach with the vibrant blues of the water, hugged with some elegant hills on three sides, was simply gorgeous. We decided to go down to the beach and frolic; this meant, for “us slow ones”, that we would have to struggle down the stairs for a while longer (and then back up). Once we got down to the beach, we enjoyed the freezing waters and wandered around the sand barefoot for a while before we braved the steep slope once more.

After our successful morning with wallabies and wineglasses, we drove to Hobart for an evening rest.

I really loved Hobart. We were not there nearly long enough to enjoy it, but the atmosphere of the town and the design of the older buildings charmed me completely. It is a town that revolves around the harbor, and the social scene circles the pier’s old landmarks with lots of hip bars and restaurants that stay awake into the late evening. It reminded me a lot of Newburyport in Massachusetts, only with more people – or Reykjavik or Oslo, in its character and layout. Its thick river weaves through the city, while hills full of houses lurk on both sides of the beds. I was so charmed. It was the kind of town I could see myself living in happily when my hair is grey and I need to have a quieter existence for a while.

We walked around the pier for a few hours, ate some dinner, and got some pretty flawless desserts at the aptly-named Honey Badger Dessert Café. We went back to our adorable hostel, Montecute, and hung out with the hostel’s enthusiastic puppy while we figured out what to do in the city the following day.

Day 3

The hostel owner strongly encouraged us to go to the MONA – The Museum of Old and New Art. It’s one of the linchpins to Tasmania’s economy, and is run by some filthy rich gambling dude who likes to collect art about sex and death. The museum is situated on a beautiful vineyard just outside of the city that gives great scenic views. The artwork inside is stuff that I like (odd – esoteric – abstract), but I know that it was a bit too much for some of the other people there. My favorite exhibit was the Digestion Machine (I called it the Poo Machine), which imitated the entire digestion tract with real food so you could see what your insides look like. It was so neat!!!

I also liked these two exhibits that were showing:

• Mathieu Briand's "Et In Libertalia Ego"
• Candice Breitz's "QUEEN (A Portrait of Madonna)"

After a successful wander through the museum, we packed ourselves back into the car and drove five hours to Cradle Mountain National Park. We got another cabin in the woods and bought some food to make dinner and hide from the freezing cold outside in the alpine area with some television.

Day 4

In the morning we hiked Cradle Mountain – well, Meg and Denise woke up earlier to hike the whole mountain for eight hours, while the rest of us decided to have a much less intense three-hour hike. Even so, the hike was not one for wheelchairs; we panted and crawled up some pretty precarious areas for a good amount of our hike. Truthfully, I’m not even really sure how some of the hike could be considered legitimate trails because they seemed so difficult to find and manage. However, it was a more forgiving trail than the one at Wineglass Bay. We got to run into some wild wombats and wallabies on the way up (to which I exclaimed I could be smote by lightening on the spot and be happy). We saw some beautiful backdrops of lakes and forested hills, and got to rest by a waterfall on the way up. We met some pretty nice people while hiking, as well.

Cradle Mountain, I think, would have been just as good for me if I didn’t hike up it because the view of the mountain peaks from the lower-level lakes were my favorite part. Maybe I am too much of a city girl, in that sense...but I think my favorite part about mountains is looking up at them, not looking down from them.

After we all finished the hike and met back up, we went to Devils @ Cradle for a night feeding tour of the Tasmanian Devils. There, we got to learn about these strange-looking animals and listen to them as they screeched and howled at each other. We enjoyed attempting their noises, and I personally found them to be more endearing once I learned more about them than before – they are cute because they’re kind of ugly, like pugs. And they have some horrible social skills, which make them endearing.

Day 5

We drove off to Launceston for our final night in Tassie before our flight out there. First we stopped off at Devonport to see if there was anything there to admire (there was a lighthouse, but that was about it). When we arrived at Launceston, I was startled by the stake difference between this town and Hobart – Hobart charmed the pants off of me, while Launceston felt like a more quiet, less charming town. It was a nice town, and I liked it fine…I just much preferred Hobart.

We went to the very pretty City Park and studied some Japanese Macaque Monkeys that lived there in an enclosure surrounded by flowers, which admittedly confused me a lot (why where there macaques in Tassie?!). We got some dinner, but the city on a Saturday night was all but completely shut down and deserted for a footy game. We luckily found an indoor crazy golf center and spent our final night teaching each other put-put skills and chuckling over the strange outcome of our last night.

Day 6

Our flight was in the early evening, so we had a lot of time to kill before leaving. The town is pretty small, though, and we had scaled the CBD area pretty thoroughly the day before. We decided to visit the Cataract Gorge just on the skirts of the town. The gorge has been made into a lovely reserve park with bridges and restaurants to entertain locals. We walked for a while around the gorge and ended up going on a surprise hike that took us up a steep hill so mystery and back to the gorge in a strange circle. The gorge had a nice basin, though, full of interesting rock formations covered in trees.

We were distracted by a lot of our walk/hike around the gorge by the sound of a wailing bird. Pritha remarked that it sounded like a peacock, and we ended up at a café that was indeed swarming (infested?) with peacocks howling and crowing at each other. This also confused me a lot, as I’m pretty sure peacocks are not native to Australia/Tasmania, but the effect was still beautiful.

After eating a large meal of fish and chips (or, for me, fish and salad), we walked around the riverfront of Launceston and slowly made our way back to the airport, where we celebrated a very lovely, successful, relaxing holiday together.

I’m so glad I went.

Fairs & Flus

*This post is written in memory of Vivian Wusthoff - my grandma who passed away this week. I was trying to post this piece earlier because I knew how much she loved reading my blog. Sadly, she died before I could.*

It has been another month since my last post about my life here!

I can explain.

I had the plague flu for 2 weeks straight; Influenza B, probably. As the large numbers of people battled this really wretched plague flu in Brisbane this winter season, I became a statistic halfway through August. I battled a fever, hacking coughs, and overall horrible-ness for an inconsiderate amount of time. I was really frustrated with this, as I had two (TWO!) flu vaccines since last year. This particular Influenza B was taken out of the vaccines a few years ago and has seen a significant come-back over the last few months.

After two and a half weeks of struggling to breathe, I'm finally alive again.

The day before my plague flu came into full-blown awfulness, I went to a huge event in Brisbane called Ekka. Queensland's August Ekka (short for Exhibition, as Aussies love abbreviations) is a week-long fair that hosts carnival rides, shows, animal competitions, cabarets, art competitions, and lots of food exhibitions within an intimate fair grounds. The way I saw it was a cross between a US State Fair and/or a 4-H Showcase, with a bit of carnival flair added.

I was feeling overwhelmed with studies and felt like taking a solo romantic adventure morning walking through Ekka. I mostly spent my time in the animals sections, which truthfully was the only part I had planned on visiting in the festival, anyways. I got to hold a baby chick, feed some baby goats and sheep, and socialize with well-groomed puppy competitors. I also tied a free colorful balloon to my wrist as I walked along the grounds and ate a strawberry ice cream that was rich and delicious. It might have been strange to the other guests with small children to see a grown woman eagerly bouncing up and down for animal cuddles with a balloon strapped to her arm, but I refuse to apologize for anything.

I made my way through a exhibition of competitive fruit cakes, decorated cakes, jams, vegetable displays, and crocheted blankets (among other things). I was perplexed that these prized food competitions were displayed behind glassed shelves, and I wondered how we know which one was best when all we can do is gaze on the fruit cake like a vision of Mary in a slice of toast.

I was surprised how American everything felt there. The crowd seemed to be mostly farm and country folk as I made my way through the fairgrounds, and there were lots of people aimlessly wandering around the Ekka. There was one difference, though; there were not nearly enough heavily deep-fried foodstuffs on sale. Some of the food for sale even seemed healthy! I was alright with this.

I was starting to feel the drain of the plague flu as I explored the Ekka, and I ended up going home early to nap. I had seen the animals, and that was all I needed.

Once I was bedridden, my life became isolated in my bed for days. I did not want to give anyone my sickness, so I hid from my friends and classmates for a week. In a refreshing display of civilization, my client refused to let me work (neither in the office nor at home) while I battled my fever, saying that "we don't do that in this country". So, in the end, I found myself with little to nothing to do for a very long period of time. With little ability to read and work on assignments, I ended up watching an entire Australian show - including all of the show's seasons and two movies - called "Kath and Kim".

"Kath and Kim" was a show that ran for a few years here, and it reminds me of a strange mix of the "Beverley Hillbillies" and "Arrested Development". Essentially, the show focuses on a strange mother-daughter pair living near Melbourne, and their bogan (read as: hick/redneck/hillbilly) lifestyle. The show is always ridiculous, and you can never tell if the characters are from the 80's, 90's, or modern time. They eat short hot dogs (called "footy franks") regularly, and they are very hard to understand sometimes - at least for my NYC ears.

I found myself completely involved in their lives for a number of days, and learning a lot of little pieces about the Australian culture I hadn't already experienced. For example, I now understand that people are quoting the show when they say, "I feel it in me waters!"

The downside of my anthropological research in Australian bogan lifestyles was that it was the only human interaction I had for a week, and it started to mess with my communication/social skills a bit. It took a few days to get out of it once I was back in the outside world.

Now that I am better, I am stressed again with school and work, and I am currently trying to catch up with life. I doubt I'll be completely caught up until two weeks from now.

Lady Musgrave Island

On our day off in Gladstone, a bunch of us got up before the sun, got in our vans, and drove. We sleepily arrived at the quiet beach of Seventeen Seventy (1770) an hour later (Yes, that is the real name of the town. Something about James Cook landing there or something. Despite the strangeness of the name, it is a really nice beach area).

Why were we there? Because one of the islands of the Great Barrier Reef is just east of this area. We were off to the coral cay, Lady Musgrave Island.

The nice thing about Lady Musgrave Island is that it is not heavily loaded with tourists, unlike Cairns and Port Douglas further north. Most of the people who come to this area are Australians, and there are only a few boats that goes out there. For some reason I had been under the impression that we were the only people who were getting on the boat. There were maybe 80 other people on the boat with our group, it turned out. I barely noticed.

I had a packet of Kwells, as I am now well known for my motion sickness. I popped a few while getting on a low-riding boat that would bring us out of the beach area to the boat during low tide. The little, slowly-tugging boat felt like we were wading through the Everglades in the US (as far as I could tell) until we got onto the bigger catamaran.

On our way to the island, the boat flew over waves and rocked back and forth for over an hour. As my fellow classmates were vomiting around me into the little discrete bags the boat had for seasickness, I was sleepily taking in the rolling of the boat with my Kwells-induced peace.

Our boat slowed down and attached itself to a pontoon in the water, close by the island.

Lady Musgrave is gorgeous. We were there on a beautiful, sunny day, and the shallowness of the Great Barrier Reef and the island in the water made the ocean dazzle in almost unreal shades of blue. The island shimmered in the distance with its white sands and bright green trees. It was so peaceful there.

We snorkeled around in the light blue water for an hour or so. I floated on a swimming noodle and lazily hovered over the reef, enjoying the brightly colored fish and intricate designs in the coral. Unlike my last experience on the Great Barrier Reef, the pills meant that I did not have to worry about puking all over the fish (though they might have enjoyed that), so I swam further afield than before. And there were turtles!

Some of the classmates went scuba diving, and they mentioned they could feel/hear whales in the not-so-distant distance talking to each other.

After lunch, the tour took our group to the island to learn a bit about the ecology of the coral cay and the reef in general. A pleasant man took us out on a tour of the reef on his glass-bottom boat, and we got to look at more rare fish that way without hurting them/ourselves. We looked at some mammoth sea cucumbers, which are adorable for slugs. They peacefully lie around, eating whatever gunk is on the ocean floor and keeping everything nice and light - nature's vacuum cleaner. I decided I want to have a sea cucumber and name it Francis.

A bunch of turtles surfaced right next to our boat, too; our group nearly lost it with excitement.

The beach, though beautifully white, was very painful to walk on - it was old and dried up coral pieces that broke off and wash up onto the banks over time. Coral is already extremely sharp and rocky when alive, so in its white bleached beachiness, it was like walking on shards of glass in some places. The tinkling sound of the coral moving around on the beach, though, was beautiful.

The walk on the island was sharply different from the tranquil, lazy floating we just did in the water. The tour guide told us about how the trees on the island are almost completely made out of water, and birds use the roots of the trees to burrow and nest. The thing is, the trees make these sticky seeds and drop them all over the place, which ultimately kills about half of the bird population each year (taking into account new birds, don't worry) because the residue gets stuck on their feathers and they are unable to fly. They starve to death, and the dead birds end up composting on the ground while the trees consume the nutrients from their corpses!

Basically, the carnivorous island in Life of Pi is real, and it exists in the Great Barrier Reef!

Anyways.....

The day was relaxing, beautiful, and fun. We got back to the beach, and our tents over in Gladstone, feeling happy and even maybe a little more enlightened about the beauty of the world.

Gladstone Trip

My program is unique because some of our classes are not on campus or in Brisbane at all – come November I’ll be in Thailand for a class while some of my classmates will be in Perth. I’m telling you this because second semester started, which means for us that for ten days we flew up to Central Queensland to an industrial town called Gladstone.

Gladstone has a good amount of water-related issues. The city has tried to grow with the boom of industry, which is no longer booming over there as much I hear. The overall water situation is not great, though surprisingly the water quality does not look all that horrible considering there are coal dunes sitting on the harbor and the waste from dredging the harbor piled on the side. But, the Great Barrier Reef is nearby, and the dugongs and turtles (and other fish) suffer from industry (like boats hitting them) and people’s mindless behavior with their solid waste (like cigarette butts choking things in the water). Meanwhile, agriculture upstream can put gross stuff in the water that accumulates in the harbor, and people are worried that the safety of the water in the harbor is dangerous for a myriad of reasons.

For ten days, about 50 of us students went over to study and analyze what is happening in the area with interviews and presentations from different groups within the community. This was all in hopes to come with an integrative understanding of things and perhaps even provide recommendations for change to those with power. The hard part is water holds such a dynamic and varied yet crucial role for all of these groups (aquatic wildlife, industries, farmers, fishers, government, etc.) that it’s hard to find a common ground for them all.

Gladstone is a small town, according to me - It’s just over 65,000 people – that will probably get smaller over time, as some industries could begin closing up shop. It was quiet and had a few nice things, like a token night club and a main drag with restaurants and bars. We counted about four places to get decent coffee; one of them was a gelato joint on the harbor. Often we were driving or walking around the sprawled town, and I felt like I barely saw other humans out (but maybe I was just not looking hard enough).

We visited an aluminum refinery plant, and it felt as if we had been dropped on Mars as we gazed out to the red mud vastness of the plant’s dregs. But it wasn’t all October Sky – the town had a nice harbor to frolic alongside, and there were some leafy areas to relax and stroll during our tours of different parts of the town, when/if we had downtime.

Something that I have only recently begun to grasp is that Australia is an industry-heavy country. Over 8% of the economy comes from mining, including coal-seam gas (liquid natural gas), coal, aluminum, and probably a few others I am forgetting. Australians gripe that the government is completely controlled by the strings of the big mining firms (which I believe), and a lot of people I have met in class (and in passing) work for mining in some way, shape, or form. At first I was appalled, but now I see how a lot of the country stands on these industries to create a higher quality of life (financially, I would say), and that to them it is simply what it is. I’m just surprised how accepting people are of their career options are, particularly the environmentalist types – people talk about how they are working to minimize the damage of the mining industry. I guess if that’s what your country chooses to harness for the economy, you have to make a living however you can.

Ten days is a long time to learn eight hours a day. By day five my brain was leaking education all over the floor and pooling around my feet in a messy, gooey pile. There were a few times I don’t believe English was applicable to me anymore, either. Some of the week remains a blur (worryingly), but I feel like I did come out of it with a larger bird’s eye view of a complicated mess of a water system.

We were what Colorado Meg calls “glamping” (glam + camping), sleeping on bunk beds in permanent canvas tents outside an environmental education center. I woke up to infuriatingly enthusiastic kookaburras who would howl with laughter at us while perched on the top of our tent, and we had to watch out for possums and mosquitoes trying to enter our tent.

Outside of the tent, it was fun at night to have the possums come join us by the campfire – Australia is rabies-free, which thrills me and makes me want to attempt to pet/cuddle/squeeze all furry wildlife whenever I’m outside.

The bathrooms were a 5-minute walk outside on some precarious steps that jolted me awake up every night as I cautiously navigated them to go urinate between REM cycles. I will admit my aging and lack of experience camping outside has made me a bit of a princess when it comes to what I am comfortable doing for prolonged periods of time. For example, I would love to never have a toilet that far from my bed ever again.

But we still had fun times. San Diego Jenny (she hails from California but works for the program here now) brought s’mores ingredients so that we Americans could introduce the rest of the group to the joys of our delicious camping dessert. It was delightful to watch them trying hard to make the perfect marshmallow and attempt to navigate eating the gooey sandwich of joy. The Australians tried showing us their campfire bread they make while out in the bush called “damper” – it’s not gluten free, so I can’t tell you how it is, but I hear it tastes like bread.

And there was some fun with our meals. The lady who was managing all of our food, bless her, was Trudy. Trudy had bit off far more than she could chew – she had 50+ grown adults wanting at least 3 filling meals a day…and 2 were Celiacs, 4 were Halal, 3 were no red meat, while 3 more were pescatarians. So, in a sense, she had to make a general meal for 38 people, and then 12 individual meals for us special-needs eaters, every few hours. This lady has been making food for smaller, much younger school groups for years, and her children don’t have so many food restrictions, outside of nuts. Sometimes the food was not enough for us all, sometimes the food was strangely prepared, and sometimes it was amazing and delicious. There was a fair number of people in the group who griped and complained a lot about the meals the entire time. Considering we were kind of camping outside in a quiet place, however, I was expecting far worse for meals, and was pleasantly surprised how diverse each meal was.

She did never fully grasp what Celiac means – I tried a number of times to explain to her that chicken and beef are naturally gluten-free (unless they’re sausages) despite the label not saying so. Overall, it kept me amused for the week and half.

The part-time students were shocked with how early us full-time students would go to bed. They stayed up socializing until the wee hours of the morning, while some of our full-time cohort were passed out by 9pm (I tried to get to bed by 10am). What can I say? We are just trying to make sure we make it through another semester without breaking down.

We did get a day off in our learning, where I went back to the Great Barrier Reef! But I’ll write about that in a bit.

Ageing in Queensland

I have a bigger post to write about my last trip – to industry-filled Gladstone in Central Queensland. But first I have to get this off of my chest: I am realizing that I am getting old.

Over the weekend I went to see a movie (Paper Towns, if you must know). The theater Colorado Meg, Bangkok Roshni, and I go to is a cinema not known for its pristine seats and clean interior. $6.50 per student ticket makes the grime and grease well worth it for us poor students trying to entertain ourselves responsibly.

I got into the ticket line and noticed a swarm of teenagers in front of me, taking up two lines. Being confused, I went up to ask one of the kids, “Sorry, are you in the queue here?” I felt the group straighten up a bit and quiet down. The kid looked down and slid out of my way, “No ma’am! Sorry!”

Ma’am?

But the biggest shock was a few weeks ago. My upstairs neighbors are definitely young college students who are having a blast in their fancy apartment-away-from-home. They throw a lot of parties. The days don’t really matter to them, either.

One Thursday they decided it was a particularly good day to party with their friends. I was hearing elephants dancing and girls squealing for a few hours, and I thought to myself, “Don’t be the jerk who tells them to stop. They’ll seek revenge on you. Don’t be a jerk!” So I tried to deal with it, mildly intimidated that they’d try to fight with me about it, or get indignant. In my head, I was seeing them as my equals.

Midnight came and went, and they were still zoo animals while I tried desperately to rest for the morning commute to work. I became fed up.

“This is bloody Brisbane! They should either be at a club in the Valley, or sound asleep! There are noise codes!”

I resolved to go upstairs and nicely ask them to turn it down. I feared I’d end up getting in an unwanted fight or get some attitude I dreaded, but I craved sleep. I tiredly trudged up the staircase to their door. I knocked.

When I knocked, I heard a pause and a fast rustle of items behind the door. Someone opened the door, and another guy came to me, with a look of horror in his eyes. I saw in the corner people see me and hide behind walls and under counters. The place reeked of old vodka and freshly-smoked pot. I saw a terrified anemic girl sitting on a beanbag chair behind the guy.

“Hey guys, can you turn it down? I have work in the morning and can here absolutely everything you’re doing up here. Thanks.”

“Yes ma’am! So sorry!” “Yeah, so sorry! Sure thing!” “Have a good night, sorry!” And the door closed, and I slowly turned around and walked back to my bed.

I was stunned. Why did they look so scared? Why were they so compliant? That’s not like college kids…..OH MY GOD I AM THE SCARY OLDER NEIGHBOR! They saw me as that older woman they try not to upset because she could tell their parents or something. I looked like the older grumpy neighbor. They did not see me as an equal, but as someone to FEAR! This terrified me – I thought I was still young and fun?! When did my age become clear on my face? 

Am I that grumpy old lady people talk about during brunch??

Luckily they did quiet down and I got some rest for work.

Hospitalization, Take Two

Apparently I was not quite fine after last weekend's adventure in the Emergency Room.

Throughout the week I have been feeling curious soreness in my lower back on the sides, but I brushed it off to being sedentary for too long.

This Sunday morning (though some may have called it Saturday night still) I woke up in a pool of sweat and found out that I was peeing blood again, only worse than before in color and pain. Upset, I ended up in the hospital for the second time within a week. I was a crying wreck, which I think helped me get help a lot faster than the week before...despite the overdosed druggies and drunks permeating the ER floor again. I was answering questions between sobs and a flood of texts messages and phone calls to family in the US.

The doctors speculated that my previous doctors were not as thorough as they should have been, and that my antibiotics dosage was not strong enough for what I was battling. Ultimately, they thought that the UTI had crept into my kidneys a bit.

I ended up staying there for about 7 hours and got an IV drip with some powerful antibiotics, bled a good amount, and was kept in a more private room until later in the day for a thorough ultrasound evaluation.

What a harrowing experience.

The good news is that my kidneys are alright, aside from the infection, and I was released with a prescription that should stomp out my infection (finally). I have to go to the doctor in a few days for a follow up to make sure the medicines are actually working this time. After this fiasco, I hope to not need a doctor again for a while.

This time at the hospital, doctors were not shy to observe/admit that last week's doctors messed up on me. I heard doctors say with scorn, "Why on earth would they have prescribed you with that antibiotic? That would not have done the trick! Is that even used for UTI cases?!" And, "They didn't do an ultrasound on you last week??" Let me point out that I was in the same hospital as I was in the week before.

In another instance, I heard one young doctor admit that hearing someone referring to her as "Doctor" was soooooo weird. And another doctor said to me, "We clearly did not do right on you last week since you're back in here."

Throughout my confusing and tiring journey through the corridors of the hospital, I felt confronted with a lot of apprehension whenever I heard doctors made these remarks. I kept thinking in response, "If they said that in the US, they'd have a malpractice lawsuit on their hands!" Part of me was relieved to hear the doctors criticize their fellow medical colleagues because it helped me feel like it was not my fault I was in the hospital a second time for the same problem (despite trying really hard to take care of myself). Another part of me, however, felt less sure of the treatment I was getting because of their doubts around their predecessors' treatments on me. Weren't they all working on the same team?

I talked to an Aussie I know in the medical world, and they let me know that Australian-based doctors do joke about how so many things in the US system - in words or actions - would get them sued.

During my stay, locals have questioned me in amazement about the lawsuit culture of the US, and have asked me questions about people living in fear of getting sued, or living with hopes of suing. What is it like to know that no one is safe from the legal hounds?

It is kind of a joke that Americans are so susceptible to lawsuits, I agree. However, as a scared and sick short-stay patient, more votes of confidence from the medical team would have helped me ease my anxiety while I was there. My blood pressure was wild as I battled minor panic attacks, and I felt like I had to think of even more questions to ask before leaving the hospital to make sure that I was getting the right treatment. With little to no sleep all night, making sure that I had asked enough questions was frustrating and only made me more worried.

Also, this is the second time in the last few months (if you recall/heard) where I have had to go to the doctor's office soon for a persistent problem, and the more recent doctor begins to question the actions of the previous doctor, as I was not given the right treatment.

It is so bizarre to miss the American healthcare system while I am in a developed country with a perfectly acceptable medical industry, simply because I am not quite sure the doctors are doing a good job of ensuring my healing process.

Edited note: I understand that doctors in the US likely make as many mistakes as they do in Australia. What I am trying to illustration is that how they express it to me as a patient did not make me feel better, but more anxious. Wording their thoughts differently to me, I suspect, would have given me some more peace of mind while I managed the pain and fear I had.

What I Like Here, Today

I never thought I would ever feel homesick for the US, but right now I am. I have not been silent about this, I know, but I feel that it bears repeating because it is so surprising. I have been meeting up with classmates over the last week who are sharing the homesickness with me - it is nice to know I'm not alone.

I think it is mostly because we are on holiday from school, and Brisbane is (as I have pointed out) a pretty quiet city for broke, car-less young non-married folk. A bunch of us come from louder cities that never close down, and we share our new-found appreciation of the busy-ness of our towns We also share how we are trying to cope with the quietness until schools starts back up. Some of us have taken up baking and crocheting. I myself have bought a coloring book and am practicing bike riding on the bike my CT Lawyer got me. I still ache sometimes for the impromptu and last-minute performance or festival NYC offers at almost all moments of life.

While I am currently fighting the homesickness of being down under for a long time, I thought I would motivate myself by noting some of the local things I have come to love here.

• Vegemite: Well, really, I love Ozemite, which is the gluten free version, but I am still shocked that I can honestly see what Aussies enjoy about salt-lick goo. What is it? Basically yeast paste from the dregs of brewing. Delicious sounding, I know. But if you toast up some bread and spread a lot (a. lot.) of butter on it, and put a pinch of Vegemite on top, it is a tasty toast with a kick.
• Cheese: Alright, I have always loved cheese, but Aussies do cheese really well, guys. Their simple grocery store cheese is scrumptious, and I've discovered Persian Fetta, which is kind of like if soft goat cheese and Greek Feta had a child together. If the world decided I must be vegetarian forever and always, I would be fine with it as long as I can still consume my cheeses.
• EFTPOS: It is probably not a great invention if you lost your credit card or get it stolen, but chips in cards here make shopping much easier, as you simply tap your card on the screen and you're good to go - called EFTPOS. I don't have to sign for things anymore, which really isn't that big of a deal but it can be obnoxious.
• Pawpaw Ointment: Aussies ferment papaya and make it into an ointment that is a less greasy version of Vaseline or A&D gel, and it is awesome. I can put it on almost any kind of discomfort on my skin, and it starts feeling almost immediately better. Even the label states it's for "boils, burns, chafing, cuts, cracked skin, gravel rash, splinters, open wounds, insect bites, and nappy rash." I am not sure I have ever used anything as multi-functional before, and if you know me you probably know how much I love that.
• Quiet Nights: It is nice to come home and know that more often than not, I will be able to fall asleep with only the noises of nature rustling outside of my window. There is something very satisfying about falling asleep not worrying about the downstairs bar releasing the bloodhounds at 2 AM. And there is not even a bar near me, so I am really set on this front.
• Patient Passerby's: While I have been practicing my bike riding, I have really come to appreciate just how patient people here are with me on the road. The cars patiently slow down or stop while I panic and swerve off of the road to avoid impact. And observant pedestrians have walked around me in large arcs onto grassy knolls when I am barreling down park paths (whimpering). I know if I was in NYC practicing, I'd be chewed out by impatient walkers and hit by at least a handful of cars by now, both parked and in motion. I know this because it has happened to me before. Thank you, Brisbane, for having immense patience and compassion for those of us sorry souls who are still learning basic life skills as adults!
• GF Industry: Australia, my CT Lawyer proposed, has a robust gluten free food industry because there is so much wheat in most foods in stores and restaurants. We have posited that it is due to a larger wheat industry comparable to the booming corn industry in the US. Whatever the reason is, though, it means Celiacs like me can get a delicious meat pie for lunch, and lots of decadent chocolate desserts. Well, maybe too many desserts....
• Meat Pies: Also known as pot pies in the US, the Aussies are really big on meat pies. The nice thing that they have mastered pies beyond the American standard chicken pot pie - and really there are very few times over the years I have really wanted a chicken pot pie. But Australian meat pies could be a regular thing for me! Today I had a beef and pale ale (gf) pie at a local bakery, and I would get one again tomorrow if I lived closer. 
• No Snow: Winter here is like a crisp fall in New England. I am not complaining.

The Boyfriend Visits!

My boyfriend (Mr. CT Lawyer) came to visit me from NYC for two glorious, short weeks. It was a sigh of relief to have him with me and share some of my life here, and I am so sad that he could not have stayed here longer. We had never been with each other nonstop for longer than a four-day period, and the two weeks helped us learn more about our relationship and our boundaries in a way that I believe has helped us get closer to each other.

We have already agreed to meet up for the holidays in a few months somewhere (Hawaii? Japan?), though I wish it was sooner.

We had a good amount of down time during his visit, and I realized that my lifestyle here is much quieter than it is when I’m in NYC. This should have been obvious to me before arriving here, but I am still surprised just how different it is from my normal life. We were able to scale all of Brisbane in about three days, and we had another week (and four days up north) to figure out what to do around town. We rented a car so that we could take some road trips around the area and explore the beach towns. We even bought me a bike and he patiently helped me navigate my newly-acquired skill around campus, so that I would have more possible activities to enjoy when he is not around.

What we did figure out to do was great. And having him meet my local friends over dinner and chocolate was comforting.

We shared some pretty fun experiences I think are worthwhile telling.

Cairns & Port Douglas: We took a four-day trip up north towards the tip of Australia, where the tropical rainforests and Great Barrier Reef glisten and shine in the equatorial heat.

Cairns is like a big hippy town that reminds me a bit of Atlantic City. We actually did not spend any time in Cairns once we landed and got our car; honestly it looked like we would not have had as relaxing an experience had we stayed around.

Instead, we made our way an hour further north to a small yet fancy beach resort town called Port Douglas. It had one main drag with the quintessential tourist shops and al fresco restaurants you’d expect in any decent beach town. Little bungalow-like resorts speckled the lush landscape.

We stayed at a colorful gay-friendly resort called the Pink Flamingo, and we could not have had a better experience with the disco music-playing pool area hosting an inflatable flamingo float named Bruce. And, of course, with our large, airy apartment-style room. We spent hours leisurely walking up and down admiring the shops and food options, and took time to relax in our quiet room, recuperating from city life.

Great Barrier Reef: On our second day up north, we headed out on a family-owned reefing boat to visit the Agincourt Reef (on the Outer Reef) and admire one of nature’s biggest successes with some snorkels. The boat had maybe sixty people on it, which meant our day on the water was quiet while we visited three sites (though the water was choppy). We did not end up staying in the water snorkeling very long – he did not feel up to managing the deep waters for too long, and I ended up getting very seasick from swimming in the undulating ocean.

What we did end up seeing was beautiful and worth the sickness and anxiety we felt floating on the Pacific. The colors on the fish right under my feet were unreal (electric pink!), and the intricate curves of the coral and plant life was mesmerizing. I might have felt sick as a dog for most of the time, but I am so glad I was able to witness such incredible natural beauty.

The crew on the ship were also super patient with our sad team of two and helped me feel better with sickness medicine and advice for managing my queasiness. They even kept an eye out for us while we floated in the choppy waters. Even so, I was very happy to be back on land when we returned to port.

Mossman Gorge: A World Heritage Site is only 20 minutes away from our bungalow, so we drove to the Daintree Rainforest area and enjoyed hours walking along the green paths and bridges around the mossy green gorge. (I mean, I was not huge on the swaying bridges part, but that is because I apparently cannot tolerate neither water nor height-centric experiences. Low-level land will do for me just fine.)

I was happy to learn that the area was managed by a local Aboriginal community, and that we were experiencing an area that has been respected for its nature by the locals for a long time.

Australia Zoo: When we returned to Brisbane, we headed off to the Steve Irwin Zoo on a rainy day because I had booked a special experience for us. We walked a wombat! The zoo does a great job keeping the animals active and happy by getting them to socialize with humans and explore other areas of the zoo with walks, and we happily reserved the wombat’s enrichment time for the day.

I have been looking forward to this experience since I arrived in Australia, and it was just as awesome as I had expected it to be, rain and all. We got to the zoo early in the morning and we were brought over to a big, pudgy wombat being trolleyed around in a wagon! Her name was Laura, and she was a fluffy ball of power – she ended up walking the zookeeper and us (not us walking her) for about 30 minutes. She ended up dragging us back to her enclosure when she was done walking us. We got to pet her and see how strong, stubborn, and smart wombats are. I could have squealed the entire time, but I controlled myself.

We also walked around the rest of zoo so that we could feed some kangaroos, espy a jerk cassowary, and get my CT Esquire to do the mandatory holding of a sleepy koala. Despite the rain, our day at the zoo was pleasant! We got to see a lot of animals, which was the point.

Noosa (& Cabarita Beach): What is Australia without its beaches? With our rental car, we drove a few hours north for a brief day visit to one of the prettier beaches in the area called Noosa. The town itself was similar to Port Douglas, but the beach was more dazzling I felt. The beach was lined with a rainforest on one side, and we lounged on the sand for a few hours (well, I napped) and walked around the cliffs of the beach to watch surfers doing their thing as the sun set.

We also went south to Cabarita Beach in New South Wales for another brief beach day. We got to play with some puppies running on a big open beach and relaxed on the cooler rocky shores before getting some delicious seafood. We ate a lot of seafood on his visit, but this one place was particularly tasty.

Wheel of Brisbane: On his last day, we decided to fork over the ludicrous amount of money to sit on the city’s large Ferris Wheel. It was a brief 15-minute ride around the wheel, and my feelings for staying on the ground was reinforced as we dangled from the top of the wheel.

The wheel also showed to me just how quiet Brisbane can be for me. In the 15-minute ride, we had an audio tour of the landscape, and most of the mentioned points of interests made us chuckle and scratch our heads. Why would we need to learn more about a bridge that was used for the filming of “inspector Gadget 2”? That was even a film? When did a convention center become an important part of the city’s history?

I am glad we got to laugh about it all, but it reminds me once more just how much I miss him when he is not with me while I live in my quiet little town city.

I took him to the airport Saturday morning, crying my eyes out as he walked towards the security check point and became my long-distance boy again until Christmastime. I continued to cry as I walked out of the airport and headed to a local food festival, where my friends were waiting to comfort me.