Some Nights in Bangkok

It has been a while since I was in Bangkok, but bear with a very long summary about a few days in Bangkok.

I landed in Bangkok late at night, and quickly got into a cab to Peruvian Lorena’s place. Lorena is doing some work in Bangkok, and she generously offered me to stay with her while I was in town. It was fantastic to catch up with an old friend, and celebrate nine years of our adventurous traveling friendship. We laughed a lot, and talked about all kinds of things, big and small.

The first full day in Bangkok I felt the punch of humid heat again. I have learned my lesson; Southeast Asia is hot! And, as a result, is covered with indoor malls.

Along with the heat, I was overwhelmed with the intensity of Bangkok. Bangkok has a lot of everything (i.e. buildings, people, shops, and cars) and pulses with advertisements (both video and print) that felt like having my brain being pulled like taffy. There is an air of excessiveness that comes with the commercials and inside the malls. Luckily, I forged through the city to discover its vibe, and gratefully bought copious amounts of delicious iced juices from the street corners. It was awesome!

I started the day by going to the Dusit Palace and admire its decadence– mesmerizing beetle wings covered chairs and gold-gilded table pieces decorated the building. Intricately-woven tapestries dazzled the walls. My eyes drank in a lot of things there, but sadly I couldn’t take pictures inside, so it’s hard to describe all that I saw.

Experiencing Bangkok, starting at the palaces, I had two surprises.

One of the surprises I had was realizing I could not walk into many places with my normal tee-shirt and jeans ensemble with a travel bag. I was ping-ponged between buildings and told to put different belongings in lockers in two separate locations. I finally understood that there was a strict dress code, for women: I had to wear a long skirt in order to go inside. I mulled this over for perhaps 30 minutes, confused and overheated. I finally broke down and bought the 50 Baht (US$1.40) sarong they had for sale in the gift shop, wrapped up my legs, and journeyed towards the security line. Happily, the sarong is great quality and is now functioning as pajamas.

The other surprise I had while in Bangkok (and first noticed at the palace) was the shocking number of Chinese tourists everywhere. This was not really a good thing, as Chinese tourists seem to typically come in tour groups by the busloads and have little respect for personal space and museum etiquette. I was jostled and pushed around by hundreds at the tourist sites, and felt suffocated while trying to get through. There were signs in several languages insisting on silence while at the palace, specifically, though they did not much seem to care for that rule and the palace roared with conversation. It was frustrating, to say the least.

After the adventure at the palace, I went to the MBK center (it’s huge - 6 floors I think!) for some headphones and a peek at souvenirs. I waited for Lorena with a matcha green tea ice cream float; it was so delicious I realized that I would like Bangkok just fine.

The allegations of food in Thailand being incredibly delicious are all true. It’s often extremely spicy, but many times the level of heat I endured was my own (silly) doing. The diverse food that line the streets are amazing (and super cheap), and the restaurant food tastes like joy. I did not have very many times I didn’t like the food I was eating while in Thailand.

Lorena and I met up and got a massage. At this point, it became clear to me that English would not get me very far in Thailand. Most people don’t speak a lot of English, if any, and it’s more helpful to pick up some of the Thai/Isan that is spoken in the area. I learned this because my massage was great and thorough – a bit too thorough for my sensitive self. I cringed and clutched onto the bed while thinking to myself how it was a great time to learn phrases like “please be much lighter I’m sensitive” and “I have an injury there!” Instead, I yelped and whimpered loud enough for the lady to stop and reconsider her strength a few times. But it was still a great way to help my swollen travel ankles recuperate.

The second day I worked for a while in a coffee shop called MyCoffee. There, I was distracted by a pet fox licking ice in the back of the café that was fluffy and pitifully adorable. I also went to another mall further out of town called JJ Mall. There, I was trying to find some cotton pants my size. This has proven to be a horrible area of the world for big people with big hips (aka me) to find clothing that fits them. Shopkeepers would look at my backside and just shake their heads dramatically, giving me the impression that they’d never seen anyone like me before.

I also saw an outdoor market that sold fish (both pet and edible) in rows of plastic bags outside, next to bags of living crickets (for eating), next to other strange shops full of peculiar finds. I felt stunned to go through the market, and felt kind of bad for all of the fish.

At night Lorena and I took a boat to Asiatique (which is like a night market/mall that has anything you could ever dream of eating or buying) to enjoy the sacred Loy Krathong Festival. During Loy Krathong, people give offerings to the goddess of water at the end of the rainy season to thank her and apologize for polluting the rivers and lakes. It’s also seen as a purification ceremony for some. Overall, it was bright and a lot of fun. It felt a bit like being in Times Square on New Year’s Eve with all of the people tightly packed in the area, but there was music and food everywhere to easily enjoy. I had bought Lorena and me a krathong offering, and we participated in the ceremony; I think the goddess heard us, as it started to pour soon after we offered our krathong.

In the third day I took a long tail boat on the river that went to the Grand Palace. The boat ride was harrowing; as it literally flew in the air and crashed back into the river, I wondered whether I had made a horrible foreigner choice taking the questionable boat to the site. I made it out alive, and that’s all that matters now.

The Grand Palace was, of course, loaded with the aforementioned tourists, but I was impressed with the beauty of the palace grounds and the intricate designs on the buildings around me. I couldn’t stay long because of the crowds and toxic heat, but I am glad I got to see it for a little bit.

Nearby is the Wat Pho with the big Reclining Buddha, and I went over to see the temple for a while and relax in some shade. It was gorgeous, and I felt like I could have stayed there for days in its peaceful fortress. There weren’t many tourists there when I went to visit, which was a relief, so I took my time loving every sculpture and spire. I have been trying to show respect to Buddha while in Southeast Asia, and I went in to pray a few times in some of the rooms. One time I felt like I was having a real connection with Buddha – either due to the intense heat or an actual connection with the Buddha – which blew my mind for a while.

Afterwards, I hid from the heat in anther mall (Terminal 21) and waited for a friend - Counselling Roshni – to meet up with me for dinner. She is from Bangkok, and I was looking forward to hearing some more context from a local about this amazing city. Once the sun went down, we walked around the central area and she explained to me things, such as that the homeless people there are run by the mafia, which is why one should not tip them. I was shocked.

We ended up eating at a restaurant called Cabbage & Condom, which is a restaurant that advocates safe sex in a big way. It was founded by a guy who wanted to help Thailand manage its concerning population rate and a national AIDS epidemic through advocacy and education. The restaurant is part-workforce development and advocacy, and I think it does its job well. The decorations and lamps are covered in condoms, and after eating a great meal with Roshni they gave us condoms to take home. I really recommend the place.

On my last day in Bangkok before going to Isan/Ubon for class, I woke up early for a cooking class, called Cooking with Poo! The woman’s name is Cham poo, which means rose apple, but her nickname has gotten her some global popularity. Knowing my passion for sanitation and food, Roshni recommended the class; seeing the title of the class, of course I signed up. It started by walking through one of the local markets that is mostly for locals, which means it wasn’t all cleaned up and sterilized like many tourist places can be. Instead, we saw the dirty and grimey and fascinating face of Bangkok that I don’t think many get to see so clearly. In the market, we saw filleted and stuffed frogs, all kinds of edible insects, boiled chicken feet, and an array of fruits and vegetables I’ve never heard of! They warned us that some of us might be disturbed by what we saw, but I found I was more impressed and captivated than anything!

We ended up at Poo’s home in a poorer community, where she taught us how to make simple yet tasty Thai food, such as pork larb, thom ka soup, and garlic chicken. The cooking space was colored with fun colors and I bonded with some of the older British students there. Poo also made us her mango sticky rice, which may have actually changed my life to a certain amount (I can’t express how delicious it was!).

After the epic cooking class, I met up with some fellow classmates who arrived to Bangkok for our intensive in Ubon the next day. We went to a riverside hotel for drinks and headed out for dinner at Asiatique. It was a lovely way to finish a memorable few days in Bangkok. I look forward to returning in a month.

Layover in Kuala Lumpur

So much is happening! But I have such little time to write everything down.

Sunday night I got on a flight and took a red eye to SE Asia. My intention was to sleep on the plane the entire time; my neighbors, however, drank enough alcohol to supply a college dorm floor and were not eager to permit my rest. By the time the flight ended I was deliriously tired.

On Monday I had a 15-hour layover in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, so of course I left the airport to explore the city, despite my depleted energy.

My flight landed at 4:30am, so it was dark out and nothing was open for a few hours while I confusedly tried to get my bearings in the big city. Needless to say, the first few hours were quiet and not terribly eventful while I nervously waited for the sun to show itself and give me an idea of where on earth my exhausted body was.

When the sun lifted, it was beautiful. But, with the sun came an oppressive heat that was further weighted with humidity. I have to admit that I will remember Kuala Lumpur by its immense heat. Malaysian Denise mentioned how intense it can be there, but for some silly reason I didn't understand her fully, until now. I am a fool.

When the sun came up and the city began to wake up, I started to hunt for food joints. By the Petronas Towers, I found an outdoor Indian-influenced restaurant called Pelita. After hungrily wandering the restaurant with a pathetic face, the servers compassionately sat me down and brought me a masala dosa that was fantastic.

I walked around KLCC for a little bit in the heat and admired the Petronas Towers, which really are impressive in person.

I also took the train to Pasar Seni - the Chinatown area of the city that hosts a popular Central Market. It was still very early, but I managed to explore the area's temples and appreciate the early morning smells of the market. I went to an old Hindu temple and quietly breathed for a few minutes in the open space. I then shuttled over to the nearby Sze Ya Temple, and grounded myself a little bit in its earthy building smelling of gentle incense. One of my favorite parts of travel is going to temples and relishing the spiritual areas - thin places - of the region.

I also looked at the architecture of the buildings in the area. There's clearly a Moorish influence on some of the designs, with minarets and intricate wall designs.

Later in the day, I went back to the center of town. Under the Petronas Towers in KLCC is a massive multi-storied mall called Suria KLCC that hosts fancy shops and a large food court full of local food. The mall is overwhelming, especially for me since I don't shop much and get over-stimulated easily. I understand why they have such large malls, though - the debilitating heat gave me a lot of motivation to stay indoors in the air conditioned shops for the day.

Denise's boyfriend, Taya, met me in the towers for lunch. Having a nice conversation with Taya over delicious nasi lemak fueled me for the rest of my trip to Thailand later on. He walked me around the mall and outside park and educated me on some cultural nuances in Malaysia. I shared my appreciation by buying him a cookie.

In a country that is predominantly Muslim (61.3%), I was surprised to see Christmas vibrantly displayed in the malls. Taya explained to me that it was Malaysia's way of recognizing and appreciating its diversity in the country. A bit more than 9% of the population is Christian, after all.

The overall feeling I got of KL was a big, bustling city where you can hide in cooler areas while the weather slays ignorant tourists. But I may have felt something a bit strict about the city. I am not entirely sure what I mean, but I felt something there I'd like to understand more.

Now I'm in Thailand! More on that later.

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.