Selling Buttons...or Badges

For the last few weeks I have been working at a street market for a local friend who ones one of the booths. A few hours every weekend I have become the unofficial Button Empress of South Brisbane. Should you ever want a button smeared with wit and cheek, come see me.

Well, South Bank or South Brisbane. I do not know the difference.

The area is a cool and busy area where a lot of restaurants live, and festivals and events occur here throughout the year. There is the artificial beach pool that takes up a large are with a boardwalk shopping area with a New Orleans feeling surrounding it. If beaches are not your thing, there is also a beautiful river walk juxtaposed next to it. There is also this weekend market where I am working that is loaded with local artisan wares, ranging from handmade bratwurst to very lovely fine art and leather belts.

Anyways, the fun thing about working at the booth every weekend is the people watching - just last night a lady came up to me and shouted unreasonably loudly if I had a button that said, "Kiss me I'm single" (to which I had to quietly admit that we did not). I am also getting a better chance to observe a bit of the more subtler nuances in the Australian culture.

The biggest surprise I have had is the reiteration of how all English-speaking folk (or maybe all Western culture) are kind of the same in tastes. I guess I was expecting some odd Australian-only cultural references on button selections...but really, the same kinds of things liked by the public is equally enjoyed in the US. With the exception of a few British shows (and a devotion to Dr. Who unrivaled by any American sub-culture), people here love popular shows like Game of Thrones and Breaking Bad...as well as the assorted cool teenage bands like My Chemical Romance (they're still a thing?!). They are all for sale and bought by many. What is so curious to me is how everyone act as if their personal likes and interests are unique. They read some of the buttons as if we have taken time to stalk them and create buttons specifically meant for their eyes. Of course, we would never do that - we have to sell popular things that a whole lot of people like in order to make a profit. Maybe people forget that and think only they have discovered that one special button? Or maybe it is a human need to feel socially accepted, and seeing their interests pressed into buttons validates their belonging to a larger tribe?

I am not sure how I feel about this. And I am still not feeling great about globalization because of this outcome.

But I have misspoken. People call these things badges. Everyone calls them badges. Even the little children who just learned how to talk stumble up to the booth shouting, "BADGES!" I have been calling them buttons all of these years, not realizing that (at least here) I am truly talking about badges. People have faltered when I say "buttons' and I have to quickly correct myself before the buttons badges magically transform into gnomish items used to fasten vests.

Another thing I seem to say strangely while I work is the word "baggies". You know, the things into which you put small merchandise. Whenever I ask if someone wants a baggy, I get met with chuckles before a response. I guess they only think of the word for when referring to drug storage. I mean, similar bags are used for drugs in the US (so I have been told), but they are baggies! They are little bags! In a country determined to reword everything into something cuter and with a "y" ending, I am surprised the term "baggy" is lost on them.

Finally, a term I recently learned is "Calm your farm". I had to ask my Aussie friends about this because it left me baffled. They were amused at the very phrase, too. Who knows, maybe it's not just Australian. It means to chill out...but I keep thinking, are not farms often very calm places? How can you calm them more? But I still liked it a bit...I shall try to integrate this into my daily life.

Medical Hiccups

It's been a while. I've been finishing up my semester and have been pulled away from self reflection and adventure writing. Instead, I've been writing for long assignments that have been coming and going in my life as if through an ever-revolving door that might be spinning a bit too quickly.

But I'm back, for now.

The first story that I can share since coming back from the darkness that is the school library is about medical shenanigans that happened recently.

Let's just start this off by saying I am shocked how much I currently miss the American medical system. Not specifically the amount of money I have to shell out to get care or the mind-numbing loop holes US insurance companies have to back out of payments - of course I don't miss that! What I do miss is knowing exactly where to go should I need some good quality services now-ish.

I should note as a disclaimer that most of these experiences here have been inside the university health services center. That said, it's been a pretty rough go of it for a few weeks.

I woke up one day with some part of my body swollen and clearly not right a few weeks ago. Being a diligent and impatient New Yorker, I ran to the student health center as soon as it opened and got in with a doctor to check it out. I was put in with a guy who kind of mumbled and swabbed the area for testing and sent me home with low-strength antibiotics and an anti-fungal cream, scheduled to come in the next week for results. Perplexed though I was about having antibiotics and anti-fungal at the same time, yet ever-obedient, I took the medication like a champ for the next few days.

A couple of days later, my swollen self was looking (and feeling) worse. Unfortunately it was the weekend, and I live in a place where none of the medical offices here are open beyond the 9-5 drudgery of the week. My sources tell me that urgent care options have only entered Brisbane in the last year or so. Desperate, I called a home-visit doctor service and waited for four hours until a doctor showed up and quickly decided that my antibiotics were too weak for the infection and that anti-fungal cream was clearly a mistake. He recommended I take a double dose of what was left of the antibiotics. The antibiotic cream the home-visit doctor gave me worked like a charm, and I wondered why I wasn't given that before.

I get back to the university doctor for my results and things start unraveling. First of all, he made an awful lot of comments about the American health system, flipping from why his analysis must be right because he's using American products to why the American system is not up to snuff and why I should be grateful I'm getting medical advice in Australia. This has left me thinking he's got some dark past with some American lady who's left him with many therapy visits to feel better.

I won't get into the details of the ordeal, but let's just say he knowingly gave me an inadequate amount of medicine and told me in a very candid way that the test results indicated that I might have some health problem that would need further investigation (not exactly like I need more health problems in my life). He also told me information about this potential health problem that I know from research is offensively incorrect. To make it worse, I now had a whole week ahead of me to be worried about my health and lament not being able to call my doctors in the US about what was happening to me and get information I can trust....and during finals.

So I requested more in-depth blood tests (which probably should have been his idea) and was leeched of a few vials of blood. Feeling uncomfortable with this doctor, I requested at the front desk to be put with a female doctor next time to talk things through, which seemed to confuse the appointment receptionist. I came out pretty upset and irritated with that doctor. I also found out this guy specializes in Men's Health...so I'm not entirely sure why I was put in the same room with him at all in general.

Yesterday I went back in for the blood tests. The doctor I had originally seen, despite requesting another doctor, was given to me once again and I politely hid my inner rage of having to see him again. The guy, unsurprisingly, took the first half of the 10-minute consultation to stare at the computer screen without addressing me. I requested a print-out of my results so I could share the time in silent contemplation with him, which seemed like a great idea to him. I peered down at my test results to see everything in the clear....I am free of syphilis and Hepatitis and a bunch of other fun things he ordered for testing. Except, he hadn't ordered the initial blood test that was the whole reason my blood was taken. I asked him what happened, and he looked around saying, "Oh, I just assumed they would have tested for that. Oh well, I'll call the lab to see if they've some blood left for testing."

Now I have to email next week for the results I have already been waiting over a week for, from a doctor who seems to lack bedside manor skills in the worst way. And I now have anecdotal evidence that (alongside my experience at NYU) absolutely no student health center in the world will ever be able to adequately serve me and my high-maintenance body correctly

All of this is to say is that, aside from the student health center I have no idea where in Australia I can go get a doctor who can give me the service and support I need to feel healthy and comfortable while I'm here. I don't have the public health insurance option, so most places I'd have to pay for consultations. I don't like the feeling of uneasiness I get when trying to figure out if I can go to doctors here, and who can take care of my special needs well. And also, who will recognize me as in need of Women's Health, not Men's Health. I'll be trying a new clinic next week that is near my home and pay a little bit of money to see if they're a better option for my sad, sad body.

In NYC, I know exactly where to go when I feel unwell and know that I won't have to come into the office three times for one issue, unless it's chronic. I won't even need to come into the office for test results, as they're digitally sent to me. I asked the doctor at the university why things weren't digitized here, and he snarkily said, "Well, if we did that you'd have to pay as much here as you do in the US!"

Don't worry, though - my other upcoming posts will be a lot more cheerful.

Coolangatta

Yesterday The Water Ladies and I made our way down to the Gold Coast, at long last. None of us had been yet, which was kind of a scandal to most locals - it's where people go for weekend trips to the beach around here, after all. The public transport has a pretty decent setup where after 10 trips have happened within the week, the remaining trips are free.

The Gold Coast is a good 2-hour train ride from Brisbane, so let's say it's a great deal to go on the weekend once a full week commuting to school has happened.

We opted to not go to Surfer's Paradise, the most popular beach on the Gold Coast for people to visit. The area has a reputation for being too-touristy, and a bit "plastic-like" for those looking for an urban respite. It's where all of the major casinos are in Queensland (kind of like a seaside Las Vegas in Australia), and tall skyscrapers create a city shadow on the coast.

Everyone says Surfer's Paradise is a must, but only for the sake of saying that I've seen it. Personally, I'm not completely sold on their congested beachscapes.

Being bookworm ladies with an interest in natural beauty, we took Kylie's advice to go as far south on the Gold Coast as we could - to the last stop in the state (before hitting New South Wales). She told us of a beautiful and cozy beach called Coolangatta.

(All I'm thinking is that I'm "cool, and gotta...")

Early Sunday morning - after a night with a themed party hosted by my roommates - Meg, Denise, and I hopped onto the Gold Coast Line and sleepily rode to the very end, under a gorgeous, clear sky. We then took a long, windy bus from the train station along coast. We rode past the reputable Currumbin Sanctuary (but didn't go, sadly), and finally let ourselves off once we saw "Welcome to Coolangatta" signs. We found ourselves on a pristine white beach with some of the most dazzling blues I've ever seen in liquid form.

Wow.

Something Australia has really impressed me with is the amazing blue-ness of the coasts. I thought The Bahamas was the only place the water could be this clear and stunning. But Australia has continued to amaze my eyes and give me a lot of beauty to drink up.

Coolangatta should really be called "a study of blue", because I'm pretty sure that (with the sky's cloudlessness) I saw every hue of blue in every gradient possible. The waves curved colors to change the quality of the blue and mix in greens continuously.

The clean, fine sand squeaked as we shuffled through it.

Something that was also awesome about our visit was how peaceful everything was. The majority of beaches in town seemed hardly occupied by people, and we were able to quietly admire the beaches without running into folks. It was a perfect day of awesome eyefuls, good company, and delightful walks along the coast to different (and incredible) vantage points.

And tasty food, of course. I mean, good food always has to be the case on day excursions.

Of course, I was burned to a crisp and radiant colors of red. In Australia, it doesn't really matter how much powerful sunblock you slather on your person repetitively - the sun dictates just how red you will end up at the end of the day. I swear I had thick tree layers of sunblock all over myself, and I am still tender and resembling more a steamed crustacean than a human on some parts.

The Difference in Grading

I've been a bit absent lately from this blog because I've been working on some very time-consuming and challenging assignments.

This post will be mostly a whine about assignments.

I am pretty sure I noted this before, but again, grading here is not the same as in the US. I believe it's more difficult.

The US has the GPA system largely based on 4, but Australia seems to go with the scale of 7. Interestingly, while in the US it's perfectly reasonable for a student to achieve a 4.0 GPA across the board, in Australia a 7 is essentially how they fill up mental health hospitals with youth.

But here's my issue: the "7" is achieved for any grade over an 85%! That means, in American terms, it's discouragingly difficult to achieve anything above an American B (or a 3.3).

Kylie explained it to me like this: A 4 is passing, and is fine (in the US, that is a D). A 5 is pretty good (a low-end C), and a 6 is fantastic (a low-end B IS FANTASTIC). She told me that attaining a 6 is basically the best most can hope for without putting oneself in mortal peril.

This blows my mind. I don't understand the concept of having an un-achievable grade for students at university. I mean, if only a handful of students in the entire history of the academic system can achieve a 7 status, then what's the point? Are basically a 7 only reasonably attainable for child geniuses and the professors teaching the class themselves? Why set students up for not being awesome?

Kylie tried to defend the system by mentioning the "Tall Poppy Syndrome" (I have never heard of this before in my life, but it's a thing). The syndrome basically expresses people who are of genuine merit exhibiting signs of awesomeness...and that others resent them for this said awesomeness. Someone complained to me that Americans award and celebrate their achievements too much (thus exhibiting signs of this syndrome) and are always looking for the best of the best, while Australians (as a whole) appreciate leveling the playing field so and that everyone is on par with each other at a level of normalcy. Or, as I view it, mediocrity.

I am not happy about this. I don't even think I have worked this hard before on assignments for a degree, or submitted such great work on my end... and I know I have never felt this passionate about my studies before. I have been working my ass off (literally and metaphorically) on these assignments, and I have yet to get awesome grades. Not getting commendable grades on my (extremely) hard work is very discouraging.

I wrote to one professor to ask him how I could have improved on my assignment, as I was not happy with the grade I received on this paper. He wrote back to me that I did very well, complimented me, and didn't see what the big deal was (I might be paraphrasing the last bit there).

The big deal for me is that I didn't achieve a 7 for doing "very well".

I was hoping to do awesomely in this program, as I'm so passionate and dedicated...but it seems that despite my efforts, I may not be good enough for this elusive 7. I just submitted a very significant (and particularly painful) report over the weekend, and though my team worked hours and days on end putting it together for a great grade, I'm just hoping we got higher than a "Pass" at this point.

On a more positive note.

I had a funny experience with a classmate from last week. A few of us went to get some lunch while sweating bullets over assignments. We ended up at a campus cafe, and Bangladeshi Mahmud was discussing with me ordering some nacho plates to share with the table. Zambian Likando listened to us as we discussed the merits of nachos.

You might see where this is going, if you're interested in jokes that make you groan.

I paused and asked Mahmud, "Hey, what do you call cheese that isn't yours?"

Mahmud looked at me for a second, perplexed.

"Well, in Bangladesh, we don't really have cheese....so I guess all cheese isn't mine..."

"No...no...Mahmud...it's a joke. What do you call cheese that isn't yours??"

".....Well....India has cheese....so maybe Pritha's cheese? Or American cheese?...."

"Mahmud.....no...the answer is 'NACHO CHEESE'."

"....ooohh...is that not my cheese?"

"No. Nacho cheese sounds like 'not your cheese. Nevermind."

Likando started to give out a low laugh that originated from the very core of his being.

Melbourne

Denver Meg, India Pritha, and I dropped off our rented car, picked up our bags and finally, after a magical 2.5 days driving along the coast, made our way to Melbourne.

Let me start this post with a complaint. People hype things up with me, and I find that it leads to my inevitable disappointment. For a while people have enthusiastically told me that I would absolutely love Melbourne. As if I'd pee my pants and change my life plans immediately upon viewing it. So when I got into the city, I was expecting some kind of apotheosis.

I liked Melbourne just fine. But I did not weep with divine knowing, and I did not feel like my life was finally complete. It was just fine. I looked around and thought to myself, "It's nice." But that was kind of it. And that disappointed me quite a lot.

What was Melbourne like? Well, it was a place of borrowed personalities. London and Paris had a baby, and Uncle LA and Aunty NYC took it for the weekends to show it how to grow and build a society by getting dirty. And maybe had a sibling named Portland, or maybe DC? It jumbled a bunch of cities in my head without much definition, so in that way it was indeed its own city. I just couldn't quite pin the impression it gave me for its personality, other than sewing together other cities together. I still liked it.

Our hostel was rough. It was over a bar, but not a very nice one. We were lodged in a stale room with mattresses that stabbed you with coils and ants seeping out of the floorboards. Some of the hostel guests were also faithful patrons to the bar below and would shout in their drunken stupors in the middle of the night. The first morning I woke up to find that someone painted their vomit across a toilet and its walls - it never really got cleaned up over the 3 nights we were there.

Now, onto good words.

We started our 3-day walking tour in South Melbourne for some Mexican food. I will say, that place has some really great food from which to choose, and a whole lot of choices to boot. There were hundreds of restaurants everywhere.

Melbourne also has trams and trains, which left me confused. That's all I have to say about that.

I got to see my NYC friend Kelly Ann for a few hours in the morning in a suburb further out of the city. She was leaving heading back to the US that evening, so I helped her pack as we talked about our experiences with Australia. We both agreed that the people are lovely, but we had different experiences with climate and culture. I am finding that Brisbane really feels like a college town to me, where everyone is highly qualified - Kelly Ann has been experiencing a less-educated population with a lot of high school dropouts. This led to interesting conversations on the education system in Australia. I'm still pondering this.

After I saw her and headed back to the city proper, the ladies and I met up at Federation Square and set off on a self-guided walking tour that led us through a maze of arcades and lanes throughout CBD. I was charmed by the arcades, as I always am. We also walked along the bridges along the skinny Yarra River that divides Melbourne much like how the Thames divides London. They have some very interesting bridges that share stories while you walk across them, and I enjoyed the views of the city. We ended the evening in a very hip area called Fitzroy for dinner. It seemed like the college students' area, being next to University of Melbourne. We had the most delicious Thai, and ended with decadent chocolate from an unforgettable place called Chocolateria San Churro. Let me take a moment of silence for this one...

The next day we headed straight to Melbourne Museum for some free exhibits. Unfortunately, it seemed like every single poorly-behaved child in Melbourne was in the museum with us, so we didn't last too long in the exhibits. We walked free from the oppression of bratty children through some nearby parks (to detox from the trauma) and made our way to the Koorie Heritage Trust. We were hoping to learn more about the Aboriginal cultures of Melbourne, and the Koorie exhibit was quiet and educative, to our luck.

And then we walked more. We walked a lot.

We actually got to experience an Australian protest on our walk! The city filled with a peaceful protest arguing unethical land grabs by the government in Western Australia for coal mining. It was a protest filled with Aborginal flags and people participating in a sit-out. The cops peacefully watched from the sides and managed the crowds surrounding the protest. I wish I was able to explore it more without fear of jeopardizing my visa/scholarship - it was fascinating!

And we went to the Eureka Skydeck and rode the elevator up 88 flights to view Melbourne from high above. Being mildly afraid of heights, I clung onto the inner walls while the girls got to explore closer to the windows for a little bit. It was a pretty impressive site to see, but I missed Earth a lot up there.

Other than that, we ate Greek for dinner and crepes for dessert. And we went to a fancy personal-sized movie theatre to see "Big Eyes".

Our last day we had a lot of time to kill before we had to make it to the airport, but we didn't have enough time to go into deeper explorations. We ended up at the Museum of Moving Image (ACMI) in Federation Square. It was a very fun place! We got to interact with a lot of videos and displays.

Next time I get to Melbourne, I hope to have more money with me so I can afford to go on more adventures. I think that also made it harder to enjoy the city more. And I will plan on making a friend who knows the city better and can show me around the hidden gems we couldn't uncover on this trip.

The Great Ocean Road

Last week was Easter Holiday Week, which means a week off of classes when you're a student. In the US, we call it the "Spring Break". Here, it's Fall Break (I still struggle with this change of seasons). Denver Meg, India Pritha, and I decided it was a perfect opportunity to book a super-duper budget trip to chilly Melbourne (it is fall, after all), so we could see the city and experience the famous Great Ocean Road.

This meant I had to drive on the other side of the road for a few days. Fortunately, I can say that we all survived that experience. A few times I started to drift into the right side of the road, but it was quickly fixed with my speedy wheel skills. Or, if we could humor me, skillz.

The Great Ocean Road lives up to its name. We were concerned that the hype would lead us to disappointment, and the gloomy weather reports made us even more nervous of a wasted few days. Fortunately, the landscape was still wonderfully impressive, and the moody clouds actually added to the incredible views we admired.

We drove to the main sites, from Melbourne to Warrnambool. I don't even know how to explain how lovely the drive was. There were some times my driving crept towards a halt because I was so enamored with the surroundings and vibrant blue water. Here are my thoughts about our trip on the road, since I'm not sure how else to describe those three days.

• We ate PB sandwiches. This country is tragically expensive. We wanted to enjoy our trip, but we are still poor students. We bought some bread, some honey, and peanut butter...and that was kind of our lunches for a whole week. We also ate chips and pears. I'm going to leave this thought here with the conclusion that I won't be eating peanut butter for a while.
• The Great Ocean Road is not just about ocean. We got to explore waterfalls and rainforests on our trip. Of course, most of the road hugged the windy coast of Victoria. But a good amount of the trip we were gliding through farm fields and forests further inland. We walked through one rainforest that was so well kept and pretty that it almost felt like Disneyland - that's a compliment in my head.
• The Aussies know how to make great tourist roads. Everything on our trip were labeled well with signs explaining the history and biology. The roads were clearly labeled, and the footpaths were easy to manage. There were a lot of stairs, but they all looked brand new. Even the warning signs on the cliffs were fabulous. But even so, the roads pins and turns that made me grip the steering wheel. If you plan on making that trip in the future, know you've been warned.
• The water was so, so blue/angry! It was like looking at liquid sapphires crashing onto the beaches. It reminded me of the blue oceans in The Bahamas, only Australian and a darker shade of blue. That said, the ocean raged, so I avoided entering it. I don't know how surfers do it, especially with those angry waves. I could completely understand why the guidebooks strongly encourage people to not go too far into the water, because it looked like it was just hunting for a stupid tourist to devour.
• The Twelve Apostles is more like Ten. The limestone of which the coast is made crumbles easily, so I guess a few of the apostles have fallen over time. You can see how they tumble down - especially with the brutal (and they were brutal) winds.
• It all looks somewhat similar. Every stop we made resembled areas we had seen beforehand, but that did not stop us from marveling at the awesomeness in front of us. It may have been all similar, but it didn't get old.
• Some of the prettiest parts are the least heralded. Most tourists turned their cars around at the Twelve Apostles, and we saw caravans of cars going back the way they came. The crowds died down significantly while we continued to make our pilgrimage...yet some of my favorite sites were afterwards. They missed some really incredible places. Loch and Gorge were simply perfect, to me.
• Antarctic Winds are no joke. The trees all look like they're slowly lying down because of the harsh winds. It made from some eerie/beautiful/stunning sights.
• The towns were so sleepy! Adorable, cold, sleepy towns.
• Cheese World is kinda strange, but tasty. At the end of our trip, we found ourselves in an odd factory museum about the makings of cheese over time. We were told in the Lonely Planet that it was a good stop off. The cheese was pretty damn good! But the place made me feel like I was maybe at a trucker stop.
• Everyone else missed out. On our way back to Melbourne, we decided to make a pit stop in an area called Red Rock, where ancient volcanoes used to wreak havoc on the area. Now, it's just gorgeous rolling hills and interesting contours in the ground. It was incredibly, yet we were the only people around. We could have danced naked in the car park and not have been harassed by even a sheep.
• Hostels may not be awesome, but they're cheap! Our first hostel was a dilapidated house on the side of the road, but it was warm enough and gave us a place to sleep. Our second hostel on the road was over a large bar and had some pretty strange rooms, including a bunk bed for all of us...but at least we had parking. We shared bathrooms for the entire trip, which I am not used to anymore. I am beginning to see why people say they age out of hostels.

Health, Food, & Stormwater Details

One of the downsides of being so away from the US is being far from my family. When there's a health problem with a loved one, I am too far away to do anything useful or helpful. And I am most definitely too far away to make a quick day trip to them to see how things are going.

Since I've been in Australia, my parents have taken turns admitting themselves into the hospital, for various problems. Each time I get notice that they've had a health "hiccup" and it needs "fine tuning", my heart sinks. I feel guilty for not being in the country to help out, and I start wondering if the universe is sending me signals to stay put in the US and give up my nomadic lifestyle. I doubt my path a bit.

Fortunately, my parents are incredibly supportive of my travels, and have maintained positive outlooks whenever they have to go to the hospital. And I know they both have support and family with them - that helps a lot. But still.

This is definitely one of the hardest parts of living abroad for me.

Speaking of health, I wish I had realized that living on the other side of the planet also meant that I might need to manage my health differently, too. Why is this? Because I had gotten a flu shot in October in NYC, when it was flu season there. Simple enough.

I went to the doctor's office on Wednesday to get prescription refills for while I'm here. The doctor looked at my laundry list of medical conditions (probably the word "auto-immune" came up one-too-many times for her), and asked me if I wanted a flu shot for the upcoming flu season.

Because we're going into fall now, and that's when flu season turns up - not in October, but in fall. Such a strange thing to have needed to remember! Since the vaccine I got in the US was not effective for this year's outbreaks, they had to make a new shot for the rest of the world.

I received another dose of flu shots - this time, with the new strains for which to look out.

I wish it hadn't affected me as much as it did, but I was bedridden for a good evening and felt gross for a couple days afterwards. I felt queasy and weak, and my arm's vibrant red took a solid 3 days to lessen. If I still get flu during this season after all of my shots...I don't know what I'll do.

On other more pleasant thoughts, I got to eat Eritrean food with most of my class. The restaurant is run by volunteers who are often refugees from that area of the world in hopes to gain skills for future employment. Being the altruists that we are, we went as a large group to try out the food.

For those who don't know, Eritrean food is a lot like Ethiopian (and I love Ethiopian food). That means we had heaps of spongy injera bread with a selection of stewed vegetables and meats at which to pluck away. The only difference I perceived was that the portion sizes were enormous!! We had ordered enough for the 13 of us, and we took home at least 4 containers back with food.

It was fun to teach my classmates how to eat the foreign food, though I was surprised that the only people who had experienced this meal before were the Americans. Cali Michael and I pulled apart our injera and dug into the stews while everyone else (even the South Asian!) politely managed the dishes with forks and knives.

Another nice day was yesterday. Aussie Kylie invited a few of us to her family's house in the sea town called Redcliffe for a Good Friday lunch, as nothing else was open for us to do in Brisbane all day. People really take Easter seriously here - everything is closed Friday through Monday for the holiday weekend.

We drove up in the morning and found ourselves in a magnificent, sun-drenched apartment with Kylie's welcoming family. Her brother had just come back from a holiday in Japan, and there was delicious incense burning subtly in the background.

The day was full of delicious foods (We had lamb lollies, guys! My rite of passage to Australia has finally come.) and pleasant conversations. I brought Bundaberg soda to share, of course Kylie's dad is actually a local hotshot in the water governance world, and he was interested in our classwork and interesting to listen to.

There was a yacht race on the waterfront located right out of the balcony, and we enjoyed watching the boats tug along towards Moreton Bay. Afterwards, we walked along the beach sands and scoped out the festival stalls sitting on the boardwalk. Redcliffe is a very peaceful and laid back sea town, and the picnic grass just behind the beachfront was riddled with plenty of people to watch. We were able to ogle at the sweet puppies that pranced up and down the shore and talked about the management of stormwater run-off in the area. It was a wonderful reminder that sometimes I need to get out of my place to resettle my brain.

A brief & simple water lesson!

For those who are interested in what stormwater run-off is, it's basically the water that comes from rain or storms and drains into a body of water. Often, urban areas combine that water with whatever wastewater accumulates into public sewage systems (including those storm drains you see on the sides of the road) and dump them into the waterways, like the sea. Think car petrol and grass clippings and exhaust. Sometimes this combination of urban waste and stormwater can make huge issues in the safety of the water, both in the sea and sometimes even in the water underground that you may use for things like wells (we call it groundwater). It pollutes the water with all of those gross things that come from our houses and cars, and can create quite a lot of trouble with wildlife. Like weeds.

It's especially bad when it can flood, and then it's just a free-for-all with the grossness that can get into all of the water supplies. I know NYC has this problem in certain areas, like the Bronx - one of the stormwater drains into the Bronx River and really makes the river smelly and toxic for aquatic life (especially after storms). And swimming is definitely off the table, unless you want to glow in the dark. Nasty.