Last Days of Melbourne

I fly home tomorrow. My how the year has flown.

My sojourn in Australia will come to a close tomorrow as I fly out of Melbourne at noon. I'm really not ready for this moment and I don't think it's dawned on me how this trip is really ending. It's as if I'm just getting ready for another big trip but will be coming back. By this time tomorrow, I'll be sitting on a jet plane over the middle of the Pacific. How do you leave a place that has become your home for the past year?

Today has been filled with packing and last minute shopping at the Queen Victoria Market, the bazar-like market located about ten minutes from my flat. Just yesterday, my online advertising for my furniture paid off and I sold off my desk and futon. With those pieces of furniture gone my room is quite empty, and it's a bit sad to see it all go. It's as if my Australian life is being carried or packed away bit by bit until it's either some else's or crammed in a suitcase. It's odd to think that almost a year ago, I arrived in Melbourne, a city of strangers to me and now I'm leaving the place feeling like it's mine.

Home is a fluid concept and after leaving home for college five years ago, my 'home' has fluctuated quite a bit. For the past year, though, Melbourne has been my only home. The city has been my dwelling place for eleven months straight and I feel quite settled here. It's what I've come back to from the amazing trips around Australia; the place I've met some amazing people and made life-long friends; the place where I've explored ideas that have challenged and broadened my perspective; the place where I've learned about the world and the people in it. A city full of strangers has become my home. And leaving home is always hard.

Melbourne, I will miss you.

An Aussie Thanksgiving

Last week I celebrated Thanksgiving with a few friends in quite the unusual manner. Four of us met up in Richmond, a suburb of Melbourne very near the city center, that is known for its high concentration of Asian cuisine. Victoria Parade, the main road running through Richmond, has the most Asian restaurants down its strip, one after another, I've ever seen. My housemate, Rob, and I rode our bikes down to Richmond to meet up with the others. Rob commented that I seemed to know my way around Melbourne pretty well as I was pedaling ahead of him and making a few suggestions as to how we get there. Funny how the unfamiliar can become so familiar with just a little time. I remember when I arrived I had no clue where anything was. I knew I was in Australia, in a city called Melbourne... that was about it. How things change.

We met up with my friends Mark and Rob (another Rob). Mark and I had decided we wanted to go for the scene in 'A Christmas Story' where they head to a Chinese restaurant and order some duck only to have the entire cooked animal brought out to them, head and all. I thought it was a smashing idea hence a Thanksgiving dinner out in Richmond. Mark picked out the place, making sure they served up whole ducks. It was BYO friendly (bring your own beer), and very plain, but the place had character - and did I mention they served up whole duck. The Thanksgiving meal was great: spring rolls, egg drop soup, garlic bok choy, a big serving of rice, and the pièce de résistance - heaps of peking duck. Mmm, mmm, good. All eaten with chop sticks and big smiles on our faces. When they brought out the duck, though, they had already cut it up into large bite size portions. So we asked if the cook could bring out the whole thing. So they chopped up the neck and other bits, brought that out, but a crucial piece was missing. "Where's the head?" we asked. "Oh, you want the head?" asked the server scratching his head. He spoke some Chinese to the kitchen and soon came back with a cooked duck head. Scene complete. Happy Thanksgiving.

After a scrumptious and filling meal complete with a few lagers and being thankful for such an interesting Chinese Thanksgiving dinner in Melbourne, we all headed to a nearby pub for a few more drinks and laughs. What I love about Melbourne is rocking up to a completely different area of town and finding the cool little bars and restaurants that make Melbourne's night life the envy of the South Pacific. With our stomachs full of duck, we parted ways and Rob and I pedaled back home. It dawned on me as I crossed into my home suburb of North Melbourne - I have just a couple more weeks in Australia. As I biked along the parade, trams rolling past, passing the Queen Vic market, and all the sights and scenes of the city I thought, "Man, I'll miss this."

A Mass Bike Ride and the Melbourne Cup

I'm writing amidst finals studies. This coming Thursday marks my last exam at Melbourne Uni. I've turned in my final essays (Australians don't like the term 'paper') and now I have only one more written exam to take - a biomedical ethics exam. Just the other day I finished an unusual style of assessment for my history of the scientific revolution course. Instead of assigning a paper to test our writing abilities, our ability to assemble an argument, or our in-depth knowledge on a singular aspect of the course, the lecturer held a 20 minute oral exam. I've never taken an oral exam before and in theory it sounded great. You go in, sit down and have a conversation about various topics of the course and see how your understanding of the details pans out. In practice, however, it was a little more cumbersome. The 'conversation' was a bit forced at times, and giving a lucid reply to the questions posed isn't so easy. I guess that's the point, though, isn't it?

A couple of highlights from this past month or so:

Near the end of October, I participated in a mass bike ride through the city of Melbourne organized to raise awareness about climate change. It was part of a large international movement supported by 350.org that is trying to spread awareness about what a suitable amount of carbon emissions into the air would be. The name comes from the assertion that 350 parts per million of carbon emissions in the atmosphere is the acceptable amount for a sustainable environment that will not change earth's overall climate. Right now the number stands at around 390, I think. I'm not a die hard advocate for climate change, but I do support the cause. Plus, I thought it'd be fun to ride my bike with around 2,000 other people through the city center of Melbourne.

I rode towards the front of the group so I could get some good glimpses of the enormous bike train that was chugging it's way through the city behind me. The group was led by 'Bikezilla', a huge bike-like contraption that seven people could all ride and pedal. The front of the pack had megaphones and were leading chants like, 'Do what's right. Get on your bike,' and 'What do we want? Climate Action! When do we want it? Now!' Near me was a guy who'd taped his boom box (ha, remember those?) to his back wheel and was playing 60's music mostly. He started off with Bob Dylan's, 'The Times They Are A-Changin'. Another fella rode the whole thing with his green parrot perched on his shoulder. It was a quintessential Melburnian crowd. I enjoyed the ride.

Australians, especially younger Australians, are mighty involved in the climate change debate. They are somewhat forced into bearing the brunt of the consequences of huge global carbon emissions; the largest hole in the ozone layer hovers atop Australia, but the country is also one of the largest carbon emitters per capita in the world. As Australians are doing fine with no major wars to finance, no huge unemployment or underemployment problems, and smaller damages from the global financial crisis, you could argue they have the time and freedom to prioritize such an important issue (given you believe it's an issue). Swine flu isn't dominating the news as I've heard is the case in the U.S., so climate change seems to be the issue of the day for many younger Australians.

Leaving somewhat controversial issues... At the beginning of November, I went to the Melbourne Cup at Flemington Racecourse to catch the biggest and most exciting horse race this side of the equator. Being from Kentucky, I had to visit at least one horse race while here and the Cup is the most famous race in Australia. It's a national holiday and the nation stops everything and takes the day off. The Cup is like the Kentucky Derby in many ways, but the race is longer (around two miles) and the prize is bigger (AUD 6 million). Besides the minor exception of no mint juleps floating around, the crowd would have fit right in with the Derby or any Keeneland race I've ever seen. Hats were galore among the ladies, and nearly everyone was dressed to impress. I went along with a Kenyan friend from indoor soccer, and we joined a group of his friends on the grass just beside the race track. We picnicked all day, watching what we could see of the various races on the big screen and then seeing the real thing pass us by up close and personal. I placed a few bets at a nearby bookie, and went for a long-shot in the actual Cup race, but came up short as is so often the case. The Cup went to a horse named Shocking (how appropriate) and my horse, Alcopop, didn't make the top six even. I think the saying is, "You lose some and you lose some." Still a good time was had by all, and I'll get to check off another signature Australian experience.

Footy Madness

The Grand Final is this week and Melbourne has gone footy mad. Australian Rules Football is the sport of Victoria and Melbourne is THE city for all footy excitement. It seems like everywhere you turn there's stuff going on about the footy. One day last week, The Age's front page headlining article was about the St. Kilda Saints having beach practice with all the Saints coming up from the water showing off their footy muscles. This is the front page Melbourne's major paper. Most of the other day's front pages have had some footy article as well.

There's endless talk among my roommates about who will win and how the game will go. I'm for St. Kilda, Rob my roommate's team, as they haven't "won the flag" as they say since 1966. The Geelong Cats will be tough competition though partly because they are just bloody good, and partly because they've won or been in the premiership the last three years. Their experience will come through I'm sure. But it's the Saint's time. 1966? This is the kind of sports matchup that makes Australians, just like Americans, sports fanatics.

Last week the St. Kilda Saints and the Geelong Cats beat out the Western Bulldogs and Collingwood Magpies, repectively, to come head to head for the premiership game. The Grand Final is held here in Melbourne every year at the Melbourne Cricket Ground which holds nearly 100,000 fans. In the past, they've had over 100,000 people attend the game. Rain is forecasted, but that won't slow down the fans, I'm sure of it. This week the Brownlow award was given out to a Geelong Cat adding pressure to the Cats for a victory this Saturday. The Brownlow is the approximate equivalent of the Heisman trophy for footy. The ceremony was broadcast on TV and branded like the Academy awards. The event was a great way to recap the entire footy season as they read off votes for best man of the match by the umpires for each game played. Reading off votes is painstakingly boring at times and really not good television, but you catch the highlights of each week for the footy season which began back in March.

Unfortunately for me, I'll be missing the game. I probably couldn't get tickets anyway seeing as you must be a club member to get them and the waiting list to become a member of the MCG is decades - people sign up their unborn children for membership. Plus I don't know any members who are going who can score tickets. Instead, I'll be visiting Sydney over my break from classes. My spring break is this week so it's time to leave droll Melbourne and surf some waves in New South Wales. Maybe I'll hit up Bondi beach again and check out the surrounding countryside of Sydney. I do hope the Saints win, though. They deserve it.

Go the Saints!

Time Flies after my Sydney Adventure

I think you could say I'm a fair weather blogger.

It's been too long with no updates and August just flew by. Suddenly, I looked up and we're half way through September. My weeks are seeming more like days and my months more like weeks, which is a bit depressing because by that logic I only have three more weeks in Australia. My spring break has just started at Uni, and ahead of me lies two weeks of no classes. This occurring after seven full on weeks of class and several Rotary club visits where I stand up and talk about where I'm from and pretty much anything else I'd like to mention.

Last time I posted, I was getting ready for a weekend trip to Sydney with one of my best friends from high school who flew all the way out here to have a little Australian adventure before returning to work. Marty and I flew into Sydney Thursday night the first weekend of August and stayed at a backpacker in King's Cross which, as someone described to me, is the "biggest party district in the southern hemisphere". Unfortunately for Marty and I, who had only brought minimal clothing and none of which would be considered nice, we weren't allowed into the really nice clubs around the area. I guess sneakers, a wind jacket, dirty jeans, and a backpack isn't the best look for clubbing... The first night we arrived, a friend's text message informed me that one of our travel partners during the Red Center trip I had done back in June was in Sydney the same weekend. I sent him an SMS (that's what they call texting in Australia... no clue what it means) and we met up for free drinks provided by our hostel at the World Bar in King's Cross. We made plans for the next day to go surfing at Bondi Beach. Finally, I was going to go surfing in Australia.

Bondi is a gorgeous beach located a five minute bus ride from the city center of Sydney. I couldn't believe how close the beaches were to the main city in Sydney and definitely see why people love the beach life there when its so at your finger tips. After sussing out the surfing options, I decided to go with no lessons and see how my two friends who'd taken one lesson each a while back would do at teaching me what they learned. Surfing (or trying to) was awesome and the two hours I rented the board and the wet suit flew by. I wanted to go for longer but the clouds were rolling in so we decided to call it a day with surfing. Bummer dude.

That night Marty and I checked

out the Sydney Opera House. This is a landmark icon that does not disappoint. But what made it even better was that we were able to score tickets to a concert in the main hall. Plus, the concert was no string quartet or orchestral movement, no sir. We saw a couple of famous Aussie singers in current rock bands sing the entire Beatles White Album. It was a rockin' show. Plus the inside of the opera house is amazing. The building juts out into the harbor so the impression you get as you're heading for your seats is that you're watching a show on a big fancy yacht. Surfing at Bondi beach and catching a show at the Opera house on the first day in Sydney. That will go down as one of my favorite days in Australia.

The next day we took a ferry ride from Circular Quay to Manly Beach.

Most tourists take this ferry just to get views of the opera house and the harbor bridge, both classic Sydney icons. The harbor is beautiful and Sydneysiders should consider themselves blessed to live beside it. With all the ferries and sailboats around it's amazingly clean, and the fact that such a large city built right on the harbor is able to manage such clean water is hard to believe. From Manly Beach we walked to the very north edge of the harbor where the water becomes the Tasman Sea. My favorite view of Sydney happened there. The sailboats, the ferries, the water, the harbor bridge - spectacular.

As we were walking back from the edge of the harbor (a lot of walking happened this day), Marty stuck his thumb out hoping somebody would see us poor vehicle-less boys and offer a ride back to the ferry wharf. We were in a designated park area so not a very dangerous thing to do, but I thought it was stupid to even try. Well, Marty showed me. After about thirty minutes of dedicated hitch-hiker thumbing, Marty's perseverance paid off, and a nice old couple pulled up and offered us a ride. The couple had lived in Sydney all their lives except for lots of traveling that it seems all Australians make a point to do. They were so nice to pick us up and I still don't really know why they did. We thanked them as they let us off at the wharf, then I thanked Marty for the hour's walk he'd saved us. That night we searched for a place to get some kangaroo meat for dinner but settled for a cook your own meat pub with some excellent Sydney cuts (basically a sirloin) shared a few (several *cough*) Aussie beers.

The next day we walked around the city a bit checking out the parks and a few landmarks. Sydney is just plain huge. The streets are wider, the buildings are taller, and there's just an overall larger than life feeling to the place. It's much different to Melbourne's large yet quaint tram filled city center with little alleyways everywhere full of cafe and boutiques. Sydney's also much more hilly and less bike friendly, something I notice now as a daily bike rider. We checked out the Sydney aquarium and got our fill of dugongs, which apparently are the creatures sailors used to think were mermaids in the oceans. If you've ever seen a dugong, you'll hear me out when I say, I'm not buying it. In our final hours in Sydney, we finally found a place that offered kangaroo on the menu. Now Marty could finally say he'd tasted the animal on the national emblem of Australia. Good on ya, mate.

We flew back to Melbourne with our stomach full of roo, and our appetite for a Sydney adventure satisfied. I have to admit I like Sydney. My Melbourne friends will boo this statement, but the city has charm. It's fast-paced and flashy, stylish and sun-soaked with close beaches and an unbeatably handsome harbor. Melbourne's probably a better place to live, but Sydney's hard to beat for a visit. I'll be going back for sure.

Why Study the Humanities?

Yesterday, as I was listening to my lecturer in biomedical ethics, he mentioned an opinion piece to us in The Age written by Peter Singer, a very famous University of Melbourne professor of philosophy and ethics, who also spends time teaching at Princeton as well. As my ethics professor mentioned the name, I vaguely remembered passing a book signing going on at the Arts Centre on campus last semester with a Dr. Peter Singer, so I was interested to read what this man had to say.

His opinion piece describes his discontent with the emphasis that Australian universities have put on teachers to publish more papers, teach more students and apply for more research grants in efforts to demonstrate the value of what they study. He lifts up many of the American universities that place more emphasis on undergraduate education of a liberal arts kind where the teachers don't have as much pressure to publish and can focus on teaching. Words like Singer's always fill me with pride and make me all the more thankful I was able to attend an institution such as Singer describes. For all Centre folk reading, I think you'll enjoy the article.

Back to School

And so my semester break has ended. But I can't say I didn't do anything while in between semesters.

Last night after a two hour flight back from Brisbane, and a taxi cab ride back to my apartment, the excitement to start up another semester began to sink in. Of course, I'm bummed I can't do more traveling like I have been the past few weeks, but who knows, maybe some weekend trips will be in order.

Although, this trip wasn't as long as the last trek across the continent, the sights and sounds were no less fantastic. Brisbane (pronounced Briz-bun) is a great little city, nestled about midway up the east coast of Australia and full of exotic rain forest looking trees everywhere. The highlight of a trip to Fraser Island, the largest sand island in the world and situated about 2 hours north of Brissie, was a drive along 75-mile beach to a place called Indian point. From there, we were at the eastern most tip of Australia and could watch hump-back whales gracefully slide along the coast, followed by a few dolphins, and some seawater turtle sightings. Fraser Island has no roads, only the open beach, yet these open beaches are recognized as roads, with sign posts for speed limits, and patrolmen to enforce the law. A four wheel drive vehicle is a must on the island because once you turn off the beach the pathways are quite bumpy.

From Fraser, we traveled through the little town of Bundaberg (the namesake of a tasty ginger beer I love in Australia), and arrived at Agnes Water and the Town of 1770. Yes, the town's name is a year in history. Here, I (and I never thought I'd say this) rode around on a motorbike throughout the town to catch views of the sun setting over the eastern sea. A local who runs a tourist business called "Scooteroo" actually leads visitors around on motorbikes so they can see the town, ride a motorcycle (a smallish version), and catch the sun setting over the ocean horizon. I'll briefly mention that my first attempt to ride the bike ended tragically with both myself and the bike tangled in a wire fence about 20 yards from where I stared riding. There's no more helpless feeling than not fully having control of a motorbike and realizing that, yes, you in fact will be crashing into a fence for everyone to witness. After a quick bike swap, and a dusting off of my pride, I rode off into the sunset with my masculinity recharging by the moment. I know my dad would hate to hear me say this, but man are they a blast to ride.

The next day at 1770, we took off for a trip to Lady Musgrave Island, which is included in the Great Barrier Reef by just a hair. A few clicks south and we'd have been out of the official Great Barrier Reef. Lady Musgrave is a lagoon about 2 hours east of the town obviously only reachable by boat. The sea was extremely choppy that morning causing major rocking of our boat. Lots of patrons got sick. When you look out to the horizon and the boat railing goes about three feet below it, then shoots about three feet above it for two hours, that's not a pleasant ride. The waves would splash us with sea water consistently with each wake, so I arrived to Lady Musgrave a bit disoriented and quite wet. The coral reef, however, made it all worth it. Snorkeling with the colorful fish and brilliant colors of the coral was unlike anything I've ever experienced. No words can really capture the feeling and the experience so I won't even try, but I hope that I can do it again before I leave this country.

Today, classes started back up. The second time around is so much easier! I know where I am, how to get to where I need to be, and what to expect. Plus, my class schedule (pronounced shed-ual in 'Stralian) is much more even keeled and spaced out than last semester. It's back to work I guess, but I'm so thankful for the time off. The break gave me the opportunity to see parts of Australia other than Melbourne, and get a feel for how big and diverse this country/continent really is.