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.

Liebster Award Nominee - Answering Questions

The reason for today’s post is because I was lucky enough to receive the Liebster Award. What is that? It's an award to help bloggers like me (with less than 200 followers) to connect with others and spread awareness about our travel writings.

I received this from a fellow blogger through the Pink Pangea network - the impressive Meghan King, whose writings will help me when I'm in Asia soon.

As an Award Nominee, it is my duty to answer a number of questions. You may already know these answers, but in case you're new to my world, enjoy learning about me a bit more.

Where are you from?

I really never quite know how to answer this question. I was born in Buffalo, New York...but we moved around when I was younger.My childhood was mostly in North Andover, Massachusetts. When people ask me this, though, I normally say that I am from New York City - I moved there when I was 18 years old, and feel like that is more my home than most other places, and I lived there the longest than anywhere else.

What was it that first motivated you to travel?

Probably what gave me the travel bug was that my dad traveled a lot when I was growing up, and we watched travel TV shows together. We would see the most beautiful places on TV, and he would point and say, "I've been there!!" I wanted to be able to do that, too.

He would  also bring home my sister and me gifts from his travels that were special to that area (a wooden doll from Japan, some papyrus from Egypt), and I was always fascinated that people had such different stuff than what I was used to.

Golden Temple, Amritsar, India

What is your best travel memory?

While I have loads of favorites, one of my favorite travel memories was visiting the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India. The place was so beautiful, and I was overwhelmed by how peaceful and beautiful the place was (physically - spiritually). I started crying by the water surrounding the temple, unable to completely digest where I was. A big (BIG) Sikh man in a bright orange guard outfit walked over to me, looking rather stern. He had a scepter, guys! When he got to me I was nervous...but, he bent down, and made a big smile while asking me, "Hindi hai??" He was so excited to ask me if I was Indian, I couldn't help but chuckle. 

What festival would you like to visit the most?

I know this sounds morbid but....I would love to visit Madagascar while they have a ceremony of "the turning of the bones". It sounds like a beautiful and fascinating festival, and I would love to understand it better by experiencing it. Is that creepy/a festival?

What has been your scariest travel experience?

The scariest experience was when I woke up in my shared house in Kigali one morning to find all of my things (not my clothing, luckily) stolen. Waking up in what was a locked house to find the door pried open and my things - hard drive, laptop, camera - completely gone is horrifying; someone with malicious intent was in my house while I was sleeping! I was also terrified that my banks would be depleted and I would have to go home immediately, but fortunately my cards had my pictures on them.

Blue Lagoon in Iceland

Where is your favorite travel destination?

My favorite travel place is probably Iceland. The place is gorgeous in a surreal way, the food is delicious, and the people are charming and have great senses of humor. I visited Iceland for a short trip, but it has not yet left my mind when I think of peaceful travel. Even if I'm ill and dying, I'd feel comfortable and happy traveling through Iceland.

What’s the strangest food you’ve ever eaten abroad?

I guess it's sad that in a way I have not been to enough places with strange food and that the weirdest food has been while living in NYC eating raw foie gras (not recommended). 

While traveling abroad, maybe the strangest food I've eaten has been choncholi in Lima - basically, animal intestines, chopped and fried in some magical sauce. It was strange to a Western girl, definitely, but it seemed pretty run-of-the-mill to the locals. I thought it was delicious!

Do you prefer traveling solo or with company?

I prefer traveling solo. While it can get lonely as an extrovert traveling abroad and not talking to another human for a while, I have learned that I would rather be alone than travel with someone who ridicules me about my travel style, is dependent on me, or are rude and ignorant to the locals. Luckily, I've avoided that kind of company for a few years now.

If you could only travel in one country, which would it be and why?

A tea estate in Himachel Pradesh, India

India has so much to offer in both culture and geography; I would be happy to travel only in India for the rest of my life. It may smell a bit like toilets (but I'm going into WASH - why would I care?) and things may not run on schedule, but the people are fun and the food is amazing! I could die happy on an Indian diet. And everything always seemed to work out beautifully (with a little bit of flare) while I was there.

In the south, there are boat rides and tropical explorations. In the west there are deserts and camels. In the north you've got the Himalayas. What else would you want for one travel spot?

How long have you been blogging?

I have had this blog since 2006, when I moved to London for a semester. I guess that means I'm almost at my 10-year anniversary!!

What inspires you?

Puppies. I know it sounds silly, and you may roll your eyes at me, but puppies inspire me even in my travels. They are fully in the moment and enjoy every adventure, just like what I aspire to be in my travels. Whenever I am sad and lonely, I look for the puppies in the area (if there are any), and normally they're doing something that makes it hard for me to resist a smile. In Costa Rica, my friend Linda's dog came into the house with a fish head! How funny is that?! Even if they're feral, they're awesome.

Now that you know more about me, my nominees! It's hard to find 11 folk, but here are the great blogs I did find!

1. Aga from To Where the Wanderlust Leads
2. Rina from Girl in the Metro
3. Shannon & Cammy from Wandering Lesbies
4. Amanda from Maps & Memories
5. Jen from One Year 75 Times
6. "It's Just Me" from It's Just Me
7. Vanessa from Girls Drink Stout
8. Michelle from Kalopsia Metanoia

Instructions for Nominees:

• Create a blog post on your site, answering the questions that I’ve provided below.
• In your post, be sure to link back to the blog who nominated you (aka myself, Kim of the kim times, with a thank you and shout out).
• After completing the questions, add a section for your nominees. Select, list and link 11 other bloggers with under 200 followers. Provide these instructions. Finally, create 11 questions for them to answer.
• Notify your nominees and provide a link to your post so that they know what to do.
• Once you’re done, come back here and comment with the link to your post so I can check out your answers.

Questions for nominees (and visitors!)

1. Where are you from?
2. Why do you travel?
3. If you had a Round-The-World ticket, what would your itinerary be?
4. What is one of the stupidest things you've ever done while traveling abroad that you'd recommend others to not do?
5. In which country could you see yourself retiring?
6. What is one things about the culture of the last country you traveled that surprised you?
7. What is one dish you ate abroad you would love to learn how to cook?
8. Do you have one country you do not plan on visiting? Why not?
9. What has been the strangest comment you ever got from a local in your travels abroad?
10. When you travel abroad, what is your method to packing?
11. How could you picture yourself telling future generations of your travel?

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.