Homesick, Perhaps

I have really been enjoying studying in low-key and quiet Brisbane. The area’s peaceful lifestyle has made my learning experience much more enjoyable than my previous degrees in NYC. Why? Because I can simply tune out the world while I’m writing large papers and not feel like I’m missing out on life. In NYC, that nagging guilt for not enjoying the city to the fullest while studying was constant.

It has been said on many occasions, though, that Brisbane is not the most thrilling city in the world. 

The most prominent attractions in the city revolve around nature hikes (only during the daytime) and the growing urban foodie culture. Most non-food activities and events are restricted by limited engagements, like a festival’s weekend presence, or its unreasonable distance from/through public transport.

This did not bother me during the semester because I was busy working on assignments and learning. I had a packed schedule of classes and homework.

The last two weeks, though, I have led my life with the lack of schedule only had when unemployed and/or on school holiday. Because of this, I have truly felt the absence of activities that NYC’s constant running list of (vibrant and diverse) options used to keep me interested. My habitual aimless wanders in NYC are not easily accomplished here because things are spread out over a large stretch of hilly land and patched with shops that close early (I’m talking 6pm). Whatever options are available are pretty expensive because, well, I am in Australia.

Brisbane is a cool city when you have a car because the fun things are accessible more easily and less at the mercy of a changing bus schedule and long hikes from stations. I do not have a car (read that as I do not want and cannot afford); exploring and finding fun things to do can be pretty unreasonable. The bus system works, but I get carsick, and getting from one place to the other can take an hour in the buses (to compare, driving would only take 20 minutes). 

I sorely miss the NYC subway system, since I could easily read a book while getting from any Point A to Point B situation. Just the other day I wanted to go to a novel salt therapy spa I found through Groupon – it took over an hour to make my way 8 miles, and consequently I won’t likely return despite how much I enjoyed it (it was great).

This all has been teaching me how to cope with less – something I never really had to learn in a city with a revolving list of free events. Entertaining myself is taking more effort and research, and I am having to accept more quiet evenings with just my laptop, my books, and me. Other hobbies cost money I’m not able to sacrifice with my budget or travel times that still seem unreasonable; running hurts too much with my painful arthritic feet (thanks, ballet).

I have to admit that it has not been the easiest transition. Don't get me wrong - I still like Brisbane and think it is a pretty town with great people.  I just am currently feeling a bit homesick for NYC and my active lifestyle.

I am finding I am more easily pleased with whatever I do manage to do, luckily. Petting a puppy while walking to the bus can my day a great success. There is a fundraiser book festival happening this weekend, and I excitedly combed the massive and full tables in the huge convention center for a heap of books to bring home that will keep me company. I may even go back tomorrow.

I missed a big event to tour a newly-opening highway tunnel, and I felt partially devastated that I was unable to go.

In some ways it feels like the universe is working on me in a way so I could be happy living in a quieter area outside of my beloved NYC. To show me that suburbia doesn’t have to be a death sentence – a belief I’ve held onto firmly for the last fifteen years. I have not let go of that belief yet, but I can start seeing that maybe it’s not as fatal as I have felt before.

But if you know of any fun free/affordable activities in Brisbane I don't know about, do share!!!

The Traditional Aussie Winter Outfit

The weather in Brisbane has been cooling off pretty quickly; instead of being in constant summer mode, it feels more like fall and optimal accessories include scarves and hoodies. Given that it is now technically winter time, I’ll take it! Yes, I am bundled up in a layer of blankets in my room often, but the fact that I can be sitting outside without an icicle tear rolling down frostbitten cheeks (NY I’m looking at you) makes my year.

Folks here are not as pleased as I am with winter weather – to most, this is very cold! And they have what I consider a strange yet popular tradition to fight off the chill.

The onesie.

Here I thought that onesies were something only children wore, but there are stores solely dedicated to providing populations young andold all kinds of onesies for their warming pleasure. You want a classic onesie with a badge of class on the chest? You’ve got it. You want to have fun and dress as a penguin in this Time of the Onesie? Why not?! (Though most people who wear animal-inspired onesies don’t appear to be furries, I am sure there’s a parallel subculture going on somewhere.) All onesies appear to have the essential rear flap so you can protect your body from the chills while relieving yourself in my favorite room of the house (the bathroom). Your face and adorable rear end are the only parts of your body that must endure the cool touches of that porcelain ice queen.

Have I mentioned that the daily low is usually 9C/49F?

I’ve seen some people wear the onesies out in public without much else on. Much to my concern.

I have not tried on these onesies, so I cannot fully judge this cultural tradition. I’m sure it’s very cozy for those that have them. To me, however, it seems bizarre and I know I’d feel trapped inside these contraptions.  

One of the neat trends I get to see here, though, is funhair styles. Aussies in general appear more accepting and willing to dye their hair fun colors, spanning most (if not all) demographics.

Women (though there are some guys who partake) get their hair dyed beautiful shades of lavender and lilac, and others enjoy bolder colors like bright red or a royal blue. I’ve even seen women strolling around with a rainbow mosaic for hair.

 Sometimes in the US, I feel like that fashion trend only really occurs in certain tribes, like goth or punk…but here, I’ve seen women who look like they sip martinis at fancy restaurants after working at their banker job with some pretty stellar coif color.

It really brightens my eyes while I people watch on my walks through the city.

You must be thinking, Kim don’t you have more news about interesting and exciting happenings in your life while you gallivant through Brisbane? Nope, not really. Brisbane is a pretty low-key, sleepy city, and most excitement I’ve seen and read is about when people get really good meals at fancy restaurants I cannot afford on a poor student budget. I walk around a lot, and my friends from the water program and I hang out. Sometimes I stay home and relax, sometimes I go for a long walk around the central area in hopes of finding adventure.

I’m just thinking about toilets and my budding career in sanitation most of the time. I’m thinking about working on a big project around combining financial literacy education with helping people get access to toilets in developing countries. Or perhaps figuring out what a toilet business school would look like, should I build one. Want me to share more of my thoughts on water and sanitation? Let me know.

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.