Greetings followers, it has indeed been some time since my last entry (and I know I promised to TRY and write more often, but my busy, busy, busy schedule…sarcassssssm…. has prevented me from doing so…) and I am afraid to say there is nothing thoroughly awesome to report. NOT. PS this another novel.
When I left you last, I was getting stoked for my camping trip the following weekend, but before I headed to Cathedral Ranges( aka Jurassic Park minus dinosaurs, plus wombats and lyre birds), there occurred a small celebration upon Wednesday of that week. Yes. The international holiday celebrated by everyone 0.00001% Irish and their mothers: St. Patrick’s Day. At this time I would like to state that during the day, no one wore green. I saw I think maybe three people in green, and one of them was Indian and wearing a green turban, which I thought was WAY COOL! But that’s beside the point. Where’s the love for the Emerald Isle? Keep in mind, green is one of the Australian national colors, so what gives? But never fear, when the sun went down, the leprechauns came out of hiding and all headed to the Old Colonial, which they affectionately call the OC, which I thought was hilarious.
Upon entering the pub, I ran up to the bar to get my first ever GREEN BEER, and the barkeep says, “Oh, I don’t think we have any green dye…” ……….. Um. Excuse me? IT'S SAINT PADDY’S I WANT A GREEN BEER. Then I spotted the tube of dye behind her and politely pointed it out, and got my green beer. Thank God. So I turn around with my beer and was asked several times what I was drinking… A GREEN BEER! Jeeeeeze louiiise. And then of course everyone wants one! So the pub ran out of the dye pretty quickly, but hey c’est la vie. But the night was great, there was a live band (no Irish music….?...but we did some celebrations back at college, rocking out to Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphys and a little Riverdance.. something for everyone), and everyone had a merry old time. And yes, as is the norm here, the tram ride back was packed with boisterous uni kids belting out inappropriate songs. Requesting me to sing these songs when I get back will likely not happen in the presence of anyone under the age of 18 and over the age of 30, so don’t ask if that’s not you haha.
Considering it followed St. Paddy’s, Thursday night was pretty low-key. (Didja ‘ave a big one? Answer: No, sir.) I wanted to state that before I go into what Thursday night entailed because if I told you after, you wouldn’t believe me. I went to the Eagle Bar, the campus pub, for Beach Night (they love to copy theme parties from America aka American movies and television) ….. and Jelly Wresting (really it was Jell-O, Bill Cosby Style. They just call it jelly, which is why everyone thinks peanut butter and jelly is nasty…they say peanut butter and jam…still pb and j). I thought someone was going to die in that jell-o pool. It was SO INTENSE! Like, really fighting. Not the girls, haha, just the guys. The guy who won was probably 5’10, 280. Yikes. The girls’ competition winner was decided by the noise from the crowd and the arbitrary judging from the La Trobe Cheer Squad (sidenote, one of the kids from California joined the cheer team and when he showed up to practice the girl who had recruited him says, “GUYS! He is an AMERICAN cheerleader!” and literally all their jaws dropped in awe. It was like they saw Jesus or something). Other than that, the DJ played the Eagle’s usual line-up: upbeat electronic and dance jams (preferred music of the creepy 30 year old Indian men that lurk on the perimeter of the dance floor) then Mr. Brightside, then some sappy songs, and right when you think the music is going to get better, Closing Time comes on and everyone whines as they tramp to the door and back off to college to prepare feasts of toasties and easy mac.
Friday morning I went to class (I know, right? I actually do go to class, believe it or not). It was Anna’s last lecture, and now I have a hard to understand German instead of the jovial, menopausal Dr. Anna Morris. Such a shame. It was a glorious morning, and then at about 4:30 in the afternoon the floodgates opened and it down poured for about an hour. Where was I at this time? Oh, just with all my crap on the way to the carpark to get a ride up to the campsite for my weekend trip. I amaze myself with my timing sometimes.
So off we went into the middle-of-nowhere Victoria, where sheep and grapevines outnumber people 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 to 1. There are no street lamps out there, but the amount of stars you can see is truly breath taking… You think you can see a lot in Sonoma or Tahoe, trust me, that might be 20% of what’s up there in that abyss. We got to the campsite at night, thankfully it had stopped raining, and proceeded to set up tents and all that. Me and some new found friends (Ms. O’Neill, if you’re reading, I realize the grammatical error, forgive me, but I think it sounds better…. :) … ) shared a box of goon and star-gazed while I entertained questions about America into the wee hours of the morning, the most common of which is “Do you guys really use those red cups at parties?” I get such a kick out of it. They don’t have red cups here! So funny.
Our fearless leader Emily woke us up at 7:30 the next morning ever so gently by knocking two pots together and screaming “WAAAAAAAAAKE UUUUUUUUUUUP!!” Thanks Em, I’m up. Breaky was served and then we were off to various activities. My group went rock climbing first, which was really fun, but not as challenging as I would have liked it to be… the indoor climbs have so far been a lot harder. As we climbed, we voiced aloud regrets on making the decision to go kayaking later that afternoon, as it was a bit chilly and misty in the mountains. But as if by an act of God, the sun came out in the afternoon and the river was perfect. The rapids were mid to high Class 2. For the uninformed crowd, river rapids run Class 1 thru 5, 1 being comparable to the majority of the Trukee River and 5 being a death wish unless you are Bear Grylls or Chuck Norris. For the scholars or the Costa crowd, the American River is Class 2 and 3 I think, and Pacuare is Class 3 and 4. So it was pretty chill, with only three areas of actual rapids aka swift moving water that splashes you in the face as you paddle thru. Alas, I did roll. Meaning I got knocked out of the kayak, the reason being was that we were playing a game: try to turn the kayak in the rapid and get behind the various pylons in the river to sit in its swell (where the water is stagnant) facing upstream. As I turned out at the pylon I over compensated with my lean and went under. Oh well! Haha, so I ejected myself, washed up on shore, and got back in the kayak.
After kayaking, we laid in the sun on the side of the highway (safe, right? well in a land where kangaroos and wombats use the road more than cars, I'd say we were alright) and waited for everyone to change and all that. When we got back to camp, Jamie, the author of that great question about red cups, and I drove down into the nearest town, Buxton, to purchase some man sodas. When we got back, dinner was served (Steak!! And Mexican chili!!! And it was good, but I wouldn’t call it Mexican haha) and then we all laid out on a tarp and played various, umm… ‘campfire’ games and roasted marshmallows (they don’t know what smores are, unfortunately, and they do not have graham crackers either so I can’t exactly introduce the smore to Australia). After that, Pete, one of the leaders, allowed Emily to cut off his dreadlocks!! We all guessed how many he had, I think it was 48…? Woaaah.
The next morning the pots banged at 8:30 and I had my fill of toast with vegemite (which…okay it gets a bad rap from non-Aussies. But I kinda like it! At first I thought I didn’t because my introduction to it was about a teaspoon full, which, according to my roommate, who enjoys the (in)famous yeast extract, “Is right foul.” Oh, PS, that’s what vegemite is, yeast extract, left over from beer production…of course… I’ll bring a jar back with me. According to Dr. Anna Morris it’s great for your hair and skin, full of Vitamin B). After breaky my group headed up the mountain to go hiking, which…okay Team Hipp, remember the Squaw hike we did a few years ago to get to the gazebo on top of the mountain…it was similar to that, except way more climbing, less walking. Don’t get me wrong, it was a lot of fun, I love hiking and climbing, just like my father...haha I’m just trying to paint a picture for the fam that loves to hike, go Team Hipp! Anyways, we got to the top of the mountain, which is not that high, I didn’t notice any thinning of their air due to altitude.
The view was incredible. Not in the epic Tahoe sense, but for a vastly different reason. Last summer, Victoria experienced its worst recorded bush fire. It ravaged the countryside, starting out during a series of 40+ degree days with 100km winds (that’s over 105 degrees Fahrenheit of DRY heat, it does not rain often in Victoria and humidity is typically very low, and 100km is about 60mph). The devastation left in the fire’s wake was shocking to look at. Grass has of course grown back, but there is nothing but black barren eucalyptus everywhere. Pete told us that the fire started out in a mountain range on the horizon and had come to where we were sitting, over the top of the mountain and down into the valley. WOW. We headed back down the mountain on the opposite face, which, let me tell you, was much harder than climbing up it. Pretty steep at some points… got a bit of vertigo. We got back to the campsite, packed up and all headed back toward the city, getting back to college late Sunday afternoon.
Nothing much has happened this week. Of course the typical pub nights Tuesday and Thursday (Tuesdays are Uni nights at Stolberg Pub, affectionately called Stolly’s, and Thursdays at the Eagle). Friday I had a paper due, which I completed before my trip to the Eagle Thursday night (I’m doing my work, Mom) and after I turned it in I went to the beach. Such a rough life. As fate would decide that day, there was a major traffic accident and we spent an extra 45 minutes on the bus talking to an old Australian man about Connecticut and some small town he visited and asked if we had ever heard about. No, sir, no we have not. But I am sure the maple syrup was awesome and the trees were indeed very pretty. Since fate was already dealing us a low blow, it decided to keep the bad coming and the sun disappeared behind some angry clouds and the wind picked up. After an hour on the beach, the first tell-tale fat drops preceding a torrential downpour started to fall, and took that as our cue to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. As luck would have it (finally), it only drizzled a bit as we happily took an alternative route back to campus, avoiding any possible complications arising from the crash that most unfortunately took place that afternoon on our bus route.
Saturday was spent indoors watching movies and attempting to do work as the rain pitter-pattered on the windows. A few friends and I (you’re welcome Ms. O’Neill) took the tram toward the city and buckled down to try some authentic Mexican food at Taco Bill’s. No, that is not a typo, the place is called Taco Bill’s. There is no friendly Chihuahua, everyone speaks English as a first language, and they put a bowl with maybe 10 chips on the table for you before you get your food. Authentic? Not according to the five kids from California you served, but it was a valiant effort considering, as Sarena Chan puts it, how geographically far we are from Mexico. As a sidenote, I just want to say this is the reply I was given when I asked one of my Aussie friends what she would put into a burrito: “Well, you got your tortilla, and then you put in meat, cheese, lettuce, and like, carrots.” Carrots. Anyways, margaritas were half priced, so we sucked it up, but truly, for the amount of money we paid…let’s just say we won’t be regulars. After we finished our million dollar meal we headed into the city with Alex aka Harv as our guide (she goes to UCSB normally, University of Melbourne at the moment). We were going to go to some crazy new club in the city, but instead ended up in a penthouse! Heeeeey not bad right? Not as glamorous as it sounds, but you take what you can get. It was early night tho, and we caught the midnight tram back to the hood, Bundoora.
Sunday was a bit more productive than Saturday, meaning I went outside. We have a farmer’s market on Sundays so I got some fruits and veggies and then went back to my room and prepared for the night’s activity: Earth Hour. Earth Hour is a worldwide phenomenon when everyone turns off the lights and ceases use of all electronic devices to conserve energy and do Mother Earth a good deed. Well, as with anything, the Aussies (maybe just La Trobe?) take it to a whole new level and made Earth Hour a tight-and-bright, glow-in-the-dark rave. So we lit up the Glenn College Rec Room with body paint and glow sticks and danced like idiots all in the name of saving the Earth! Woooowooooooooooooooooo!
That brings us to Monday, and me sitting here eating a pomegranate and writing about my uncanny life in this ridiculous country. Tomorrow is Tuesday, the day I go to lab and play with live bacteria, hoping I don’t accidentally infect myself with E. coli. I actually really love it! It’s a lot of fun and super interesting, and I think I’m going to try and get a job in a lab at LA for next year. Tomorrow also happens to be International Goon Appreciation Day, and a Stolly’s night! So that should be interesting…
And it’s Holy Week! Good Friday is a national and public holiday here in Australia, which I find odd because, although churches are a dime a dozen, there is not much of a Christian community at all. It must be leftover from the days of the Irish convicts. Anyways, I will be attending the Bells Beach Rip Curl Surf Competition and Music Festival on Friday (except during Holy Hours of course………) and Saturday, and then will heading south with a bunch of kids from California to Tasmania for five days of RVing and camping throughout the state. So I guess my next novel will talk about the trials and tribulations of driving on the wrong side of the road in an oversized vehicle and surviving on easy mac and pb and j for five days. Can’t wait! I hope everyone is doing well at home, or abroad if you happen to be among the lucky!! Hooroo mate!
Vocab lesson
*correction: last time I stated a sanger is a sausage. That is incorrect. A sanger is a sandwich, and a SNAG is a sausage. My bad. PS A hotdog is wrapped in a bright pink covering and they are pretty foul.
Tom-aw-to = tomato (you know the saying “tomato, tomawto?” Yea, well here you can actually use it. And no, they do not say po-taw-to)
Tom-aw-to Sowce = ketchup
Jug = Pitcher (of beer). A pint is a pint, a pot is one standard drink of beer, I guess about 8 ounces?
Coon = Australia’s tastiest cheese!! Haha, at least that’s what the label says. It’s pretty good tho Erica, in case you were wondering. PS Erica, I failed again on the mayo, I thought I could get by with Kraft and it was still nasty … I should have known never to stray away from Best Foods.
Capsicum = Bell pepper
Chillies = all other peppers
Roller = deodorant stick
Mobile = cell phone
Fun-jee = fungi (I’ve always said Fun-guy. Do people in the states really say Funjee?)
Kooo-cumber = cucumber
I think that’s all I have for now. I really hope you all enjoy reading these posts, because writing them is a complete riot. Take care!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Victoria: The Place to Be aka Is This Real Life?
First off I would like to acknowledge that this post is way over due, my apologies. On the bright side, it will most likely be another novel. So you’re welcome to those of you who enjoy my stories, and to those of you who would rather listen to radio advertisements than my anecdotes, well, this website is really not for you then is it? Here we go!
I left Sydney in a Qantas airplane that easily was the same size as the plane I took over the Pacific Ocean; and it was pretty full. So I guess there is high demand in flying from Sydney to Melbourne. Anyways, I landed, got my shuttle ride to La Trobe University and was greeted by the jovial and fun-loving Meaghan, international student rep for Glenn College, my dormitory (the dorms are called colleges here, and there are 3 on campus: Menzies, Chisholm, and, the best, Glenn). As I have so well demonstrated, there is a huge rivalry between the colleges, and some people even give you the stink eye (or a black eye…) if you wander to their side of campus. I arrived Monday evening, got a bit situated and then had a good long chat with my two RA’s, Paddy and Claire, as well as another RA, Lizzy, and Nick, also from the UC system and my roommate for the weekend in Sydney.
No one else had really moved into the college yet; it was only the international students, and I was the only one in my unit (the main door off the hallway opens to a common room with tv, couches, and kitchenette aka sink and mini fridge. A corridor from the common room reveals shared bathrooms and six single bedrooms. Now that everyone’s moved-in, I am the proud suite mate of three first year Australians (Aaron (Vaguey), Tom and Mike), and two third year internationals, a Swiss (Manny) and a Russian-turned-Canadian (Nick). All great guys!
The first week was filled with events for the international kids; seminars, etc, one of which taught us how to speak Aussie English, which, funny enough, was aimed at kids speaking English as a second language and was completely useless for me and Nick, except for a couple of a laughs during and after the presentation. If not at international events, or getting a free barbeque lunch, we, Nick, myself, and two girls also from the UC, Kealoha (say Kay-aloha) and Kelsey, wandered around the campus and took the 40 minute tram ride into the city a few times.
Tuesday night was our ‘Harbour Tour’ aka Booze Cruise for all the international kids (note: this cruise was also a uniform party, so there were sailors, cops, referees etc) and drinks were really cheap so we all had a great time! The rest of the week’s nights were definitely not as rowdy as Tuesday night, except maybe Thursday night at Father Flanagan’s Irish Pub… 9-10pm is Power Hour… $20 for as much as you can drink in the time allotted. There was a live band also, and they greatly appreciated the lone four Americans cutting a rug out on the dancefloor!
Sunday was move-in day for all the first years, and the first day of O Week (orientation week). In Australia O Week is a week of, yes, getting to know your fellow college residents and taking campus tours, etc…It is also a week of complete debauchery. Each night is a different theme party: Uniform, Scribble (wear all white, write on people with a sharpie marker whatever you please), Retro Sport (80s workout), etc etc. A very good and humorous friend of mine, who shall remain anonymous, though I am sure half of the people reading this know him/her, once told me, in jest, that his/her time in college “is a joke.” After the first O-Week party, the scribble party, I left him/her this message:
“remember when u said 'seriously, my life is a joke.' ? ? ?
today we had orientation at my res hall, and just like a floor meeting.... an RA walked in with a bag of wine and made people do lay-backs, aka lay on your back and chug from the bag for up to 30 seconds. we then went to an icebreaker... where we were told to strip down to our skivvies any time we hear "forget about yo boyfriend and meet me at the hotel room" ... and then we crawled on all fours with eyes closed making farm animal noises. and then we wrote all over eachother in permanent marker.
your life is a joke? please come down unda and realize the truth.”
Yes, all events cited did in fact occur. And yes it was hilarious. And yes I would do it again today. The next night was retro-sport, and the night after that we had a pub crawl, starting close to the city’s edge and working our way back to campus by way of four featured watering holes. Along the way we sang many a degrading song about the Menzies College, as well as many, many, many other innuendo-ridden melodies. All this singing of course took place on a packed tram filled with both belligerent college kids and the general, and I am sure fearful, public. We each had a laminated card on our person which described where we would be heading for the night, and certain antics that must take place at each venue. For the first pub, we needed to perform a one legged skull, aka chug your drink for 30 seconds while standing on one leg. Done and done. Various other rules applied to the whole night. My favorite was the army man game. We all received a toy army man, and upon hearing a whistle at any point during the night, you had to stop whatever you were doing and imitate your army man’s pose. Also, if someone happened to drop an army man in your drink…automatic SKULL! Down it man! Obviously it was a night of hilarity, frivolity (thank you GOF), and dignity (or lack thereof). The blokes had to remain at the first pub while the ladies migrated to another venue for “Lady Antics,” which of course have remained completely confidential. After about an hour, we guys were out on the move, and arrived at Father Flanagan’s, after a small pit stop in a dark alley way to heed the call of nature. At this awesome little Irish pub, only one rule reigned: drink only with the left hand. Get caught with the right? SKULL. It took me three times to learn my lesson. Some others were not as lucky. After a bit we headed to the final pub, Stolberg’s, for some late night cocktails (like we needed them) and some dancing aka looking like idiots. The night ended in a cab ride back to campus and some light night fodder in the unit by way of top ramen and grilled cheese on our George Foreman knock-off. Tastes like college right?
So went the rest of O-Week until Wednesday night, when the university, and my college in particular, suffered a horrible tragedy.
One of the residents, just a first year, took a nasty spill on the third floor landing of one of the dorm buildings and sustained fatal injuries from an 8 meter fall. We were told he passed away on-scene before arrival of emergency services. It was very sad day for the entire community, and just an absolutely devastating accident. Count your lucky stars that these things do not happen to us on a regular basis…acts as a simple as walking down the stairs can turn into a nightmare in the blink of an eye. The rest of O-week was cancelled out of respect. Rest in peace Jarrad.
To get away from the gloom over the university, the RAs organized a lazy beach day a few days after the incident. We headed into the city, to a neighborhood in Melbourne called St. Kilda. It is very much a classy mix between Venice and the Santa Monica pier and promenade, and it was a beautiful, hot day. Never fear, I did bring and wear sunscreen this time and was well protected. One thing about swimming in the ocean that I always forget about is that it’s salty. It’s actually really foul, nothing like that fresh alpine taste of Tahoe! After some sun, we met up with yet more UC kids who are attending the University of Melbourne, which is in the city. We got some Portuguese food and just hung out on the main strip of St. Kilda, exchanging stories from the past two weeks, and commenting on differences between American and Australian culture, the biggest difference of which is dance. No one freak dances in Australia… it’s a hard concept for us to get haha! Like, wait, we need to actually dance? We can’t just sway? Yes, it may seem like the end of the world, but it’s actually really fun and you can look like a total idiot and it’s alright because so does everyone else. Haha
So that brings me to, don’t say it… SCHOOL. As some of you may not know, I have in fact been on vacation since December 10. When I arrived in Sydney, winter break did a 180 and became summer vacation and I am so sad to report that summer vacation is now over and I have just completed my first week of school. Not that its intense really at all. At least my current schedule. I have one one-hour lecture on Monday and Friday each. Nothing on Wednesday. Tuesday is the worst with three hours of lecture and a three hour lab. Thursday consists of one two-hour lecture, which our professor told us will end early every week (yes, the class meets once a week. Once. Una vez.) and the discussion for that lecture is later that afternoon. That’s it. With my old schedule I was taking nearly double the amount of hours, so needless to say, I dropped the class. Haha, well really I dropped it because of false advertisement. The class is called “Australian Fauna and Ecology”…which sounds awesome right!? No. It’s actually entomology (the study of insects) which sounds awesome right!? No. We have to go out and find bugs, catch/kill/preserve/pin them to a board for a large portion of our grade… Honest to God, I thought this was really cool. BUT, this capturing of insects must occur outside of class. Outside of the EIGHT hours we are required to show up for. This was my first WTF moment (for the uninformed crowd, WTF is modern day lingo for ‘what the fudge’…think Christmas Story). Oh, and you can’t just catch any bugs. No, no, no. Twenty five different species, fifteen of which must be a unique Order. Yes, this was my second WTF moment. Oh, and pinning them? Don’t mess up because, well, you might fail the project for, oh, say breaking a wing or a leg. WTF. Third time’s a charm and I dropped the class like a hot potato and picked up a class on Australian politics, culture, and history. I think it was a good move. I am also taking Intro to Microbiology, which is currently being taught by a middle aged woman definitely suffering from hot flashes (which got us out early today, so yay for menopause!) and I am taking Intro to Aboriginal Studies, taught by a woman who is actually an Aborigine! Imagine that. I am actually really excited to start school again. Lectures have thus far been pretty interesting, and I think it’s going to be a great semester.
Last night was Thursday, the first uni night of the semester at our on-campus pub, the Eagle Bar. The Eagle is a really cool place, huge dance floor, beer garden aka outdoor patio, as well as a huge screen for viewing sporting events, most notably the 5-3 preliminary victory of USA over our friendly neighbors to the north. We Americans were well outnumbered by the Canadian exchange kids, but that didn’t stop us from belting out some “USA USA USA” chants! (No mention of the gold medal game will be made.) Anyways, uni night was last night, and it was packed with kids. Lots of fun. The good people of Jim Beam were there promoting, and I won a ton of prizes for beating this game they had (it’s a metal rod with a circle on the end, and you need to guide the rod along a metal wire as it makes turns and curves, and if you touch it, it will buzz and you lose). Well, I won! Haha on my sixth try, aren’t they nice? So I won a football, a pair of Jim Beam logo aviator sunglasses, a deck of cards, a lanyard, and a photo with a Jim Beam Party Girl hahaha which unfortunately also includes an obese Asian man who jumped in at the last minute when the Polaroid got taken. Ah well. Life can’t be perfect, right?
I think that may be all I have for now. I joined the mountaineering club, and today we went indoor rock climbing in the city which was a lot of fun. We have a big weekend trip coming up in two weeks out in the Victorian wilderness, which I am thoroughly excited for. Bushwacking, hiking, kayaking, rock climbing and mountain biking. Bring it on Aus. That might be my next entry, unless something really awesome happens before that, which is a definite possibility in this sunburned land. Many thanks to Vaguey for scaring me shitless just now by sneaking into my room! Jesus Christ. Good night all! I hope everything is well back home, or in Europe or Africa or wherever the hell you are whilst reading this!
I am stealing Liz White’s idea of a small language lesson (copyright E. White) at the end of my post. Start learning these because I will say them when I get back!
Howyagoindeek-ed? (Say: How ya goin dick head?) = Hey friend, how are you these days? (note: deek-ed is not always used, in fact it is quite rare. Usually just say howyagoin?)
I reckin (Say: I reckon) = Yes, I think so/I think that.
Hoooorooooo (Say who-roo) = Adios
Goon (Say goon) = boxed wine, which is a college kid’s godsend at only $10 for 4 liters…a fifth of cheap vodka is $25…
Doona (Say doooo-nah) = comforter, like on a bed.
Lemonade = 7up/Sprite… if you want what we call lemonade you say lemon squash
Grouse = awesome/cool… not a gamebird
Dax = pants
Thongs = sandals/flip flops
Jumper = sweatshirt
Singlet = tanktop
Biscuits = cookies/crackers
Tea = dinnertime
Heeeeeeeey? = Sorry, what did you say?
Lolli = candy
Had a big one, didja? = Did you drink a little too much last night?
Skull = chug
Banarnar = banana
Toastie = grilled sandwich
Sanger = sausage
Footy = aussie rules football. Soccer is soccer. American football is gridiron.
Mackers (Say Maccas) = McDonalds
For the science majors, bacteriaphage is pronounced bacteriaph-AHH-jjjj and I laugh everytime my professor says it because it sounds like she’s gonna end with Fahja.
I think that’s it for now. Sleepytime. Thanks for reading guys, and I will try to post more often so that it’s not all at once. Take care, I love you all!
I left Sydney in a Qantas airplane that easily was the same size as the plane I took over the Pacific Ocean; and it was pretty full. So I guess there is high demand in flying from Sydney to Melbourne. Anyways, I landed, got my shuttle ride to La Trobe University and was greeted by the jovial and fun-loving Meaghan, international student rep for Glenn College, my dormitory (the dorms are called colleges here, and there are 3 on campus: Menzies, Chisholm, and, the best, Glenn). As I have so well demonstrated, there is a huge rivalry between the colleges, and some people even give you the stink eye (or a black eye…) if you wander to their side of campus. I arrived Monday evening, got a bit situated and then had a good long chat with my two RA’s, Paddy and Claire, as well as another RA, Lizzy, and Nick, also from the UC system and my roommate for the weekend in Sydney.
No one else had really moved into the college yet; it was only the international students, and I was the only one in my unit (the main door off the hallway opens to a common room with tv, couches, and kitchenette aka sink and mini fridge. A corridor from the common room reveals shared bathrooms and six single bedrooms. Now that everyone’s moved-in, I am the proud suite mate of three first year Australians (Aaron (Vaguey), Tom and Mike), and two third year internationals, a Swiss (Manny) and a Russian-turned-Canadian (Nick). All great guys!
The first week was filled with events for the international kids; seminars, etc, one of which taught us how to speak Aussie English, which, funny enough, was aimed at kids speaking English as a second language and was completely useless for me and Nick, except for a couple of a laughs during and after the presentation. If not at international events, or getting a free barbeque lunch, we, Nick, myself, and two girls also from the UC, Kealoha (say Kay-aloha) and Kelsey, wandered around the campus and took the 40 minute tram ride into the city a few times.
Tuesday night was our ‘Harbour Tour’ aka Booze Cruise for all the international kids (note: this cruise was also a uniform party, so there were sailors, cops, referees etc) and drinks were really cheap so we all had a great time! The rest of the week’s nights were definitely not as rowdy as Tuesday night, except maybe Thursday night at Father Flanagan’s Irish Pub… 9-10pm is Power Hour… $20 for as much as you can drink in the time allotted. There was a live band also, and they greatly appreciated the lone four Americans cutting a rug out on the dancefloor!
Sunday was move-in day for all the first years, and the first day of O Week (orientation week). In Australia O Week is a week of, yes, getting to know your fellow college residents and taking campus tours, etc…It is also a week of complete debauchery. Each night is a different theme party: Uniform, Scribble (wear all white, write on people with a sharpie marker whatever you please), Retro Sport (80s workout), etc etc. A very good and humorous friend of mine, who shall remain anonymous, though I am sure half of the people reading this know him/her, once told me, in jest, that his/her time in college “is a joke.” After the first O-Week party, the scribble party, I left him/her this message:
“remember when u said 'seriously, my life is a joke.' ? ? ?
today we had orientation at my res hall, and just like a floor meeting.... an RA walked in with a bag of wine and made people do lay-backs, aka lay on your back and chug from the bag for up to 30 seconds. we then went to an icebreaker... where we were told to strip down to our skivvies any time we hear "forget about yo boyfriend and meet me at the hotel room" ... and then we crawled on all fours with eyes closed making farm animal noises. and then we wrote all over eachother in permanent marker.
your life is a joke? please come down unda and realize the truth.”
Yes, all events cited did in fact occur. And yes it was hilarious. And yes I would do it again today. The next night was retro-sport, and the night after that we had a pub crawl, starting close to the city’s edge and working our way back to campus by way of four featured watering holes. Along the way we sang many a degrading song about the Menzies College, as well as many, many, many other innuendo-ridden melodies. All this singing of course took place on a packed tram filled with both belligerent college kids and the general, and I am sure fearful, public. We each had a laminated card on our person which described where we would be heading for the night, and certain antics that must take place at each venue. For the first pub, we needed to perform a one legged skull, aka chug your drink for 30 seconds while standing on one leg. Done and done. Various other rules applied to the whole night. My favorite was the army man game. We all received a toy army man, and upon hearing a whistle at any point during the night, you had to stop whatever you were doing and imitate your army man’s pose. Also, if someone happened to drop an army man in your drink…automatic SKULL! Down it man! Obviously it was a night of hilarity, frivolity (thank you GOF), and dignity (or lack thereof). The blokes had to remain at the first pub while the ladies migrated to another venue for “Lady Antics,” which of course have remained completely confidential. After about an hour, we guys were out on the move, and arrived at Father Flanagan’s, after a small pit stop in a dark alley way to heed the call of nature. At this awesome little Irish pub, only one rule reigned: drink only with the left hand. Get caught with the right? SKULL. It took me three times to learn my lesson. Some others were not as lucky. After a bit we headed to the final pub, Stolberg’s, for some late night cocktails (like we needed them) and some dancing aka looking like idiots. The night ended in a cab ride back to campus and some light night fodder in the unit by way of top ramen and grilled cheese on our George Foreman knock-off. Tastes like college right?
So went the rest of O-Week until Wednesday night, when the university, and my college in particular, suffered a horrible tragedy.
One of the residents, just a first year, took a nasty spill on the third floor landing of one of the dorm buildings and sustained fatal injuries from an 8 meter fall. We were told he passed away on-scene before arrival of emergency services. It was very sad day for the entire community, and just an absolutely devastating accident. Count your lucky stars that these things do not happen to us on a regular basis…acts as a simple as walking down the stairs can turn into a nightmare in the blink of an eye. The rest of O-week was cancelled out of respect. Rest in peace Jarrad.
To get away from the gloom over the university, the RAs organized a lazy beach day a few days after the incident. We headed into the city, to a neighborhood in Melbourne called St. Kilda. It is very much a classy mix between Venice and the Santa Monica pier and promenade, and it was a beautiful, hot day. Never fear, I did bring and wear sunscreen this time and was well protected. One thing about swimming in the ocean that I always forget about is that it’s salty. It’s actually really foul, nothing like that fresh alpine taste of Tahoe! After some sun, we met up with yet more UC kids who are attending the University of Melbourne, which is in the city. We got some Portuguese food and just hung out on the main strip of St. Kilda, exchanging stories from the past two weeks, and commenting on differences between American and Australian culture, the biggest difference of which is dance. No one freak dances in Australia… it’s a hard concept for us to get haha! Like, wait, we need to actually dance? We can’t just sway? Yes, it may seem like the end of the world, but it’s actually really fun and you can look like a total idiot and it’s alright because so does everyone else. Haha
So that brings me to, don’t say it… SCHOOL. As some of you may not know, I have in fact been on vacation since December 10. When I arrived in Sydney, winter break did a 180 and became summer vacation and I am so sad to report that summer vacation is now over and I have just completed my first week of school. Not that its intense really at all. At least my current schedule. I have one one-hour lecture on Monday and Friday each. Nothing on Wednesday. Tuesday is the worst with three hours of lecture and a three hour lab. Thursday consists of one two-hour lecture, which our professor told us will end early every week (yes, the class meets once a week. Once. Una vez.) and the discussion for that lecture is later that afternoon. That’s it. With my old schedule I was taking nearly double the amount of hours, so needless to say, I dropped the class. Haha, well really I dropped it because of false advertisement. The class is called “Australian Fauna and Ecology”…which sounds awesome right!? No. It’s actually entomology (the study of insects) which sounds awesome right!? No. We have to go out and find bugs, catch/kill/preserve/pin them to a board for a large portion of our grade… Honest to God, I thought this was really cool. BUT, this capturing of insects must occur outside of class. Outside of the EIGHT hours we are required to show up for. This was my first WTF moment (for the uninformed crowd, WTF is modern day lingo for ‘what the fudge’…think Christmas Story). Oh, and you can’t just catch any bugs. No, no, no. Twenty five different species, fifteen of which must be a unique Order. Yes, this was my second WTF moment. Oh, and pinning them? Don’t mess up because, well, you might fail the project for, oh, say breaking a wing or a leg. WTF. Third time’s a charm and I dropped the class like a hot potato and picked up a class on Australian politics, culture, and history. I think it was a good move. I am also taking Intro to Microbiology, which is currently being taught by a middle aged woman definitely suffering from hot flashes (which got us out early today, so yay for menopause!) and I am taking Intro to Aboriginal Studies, taught by a woman who is actually an Aborigine! Imagine that. I am actually really excited to start school again. Lectures have thus far been pretty interesting, and I think it’s going to be a great semester.
Last night was Thursday, the first uni night of the semester at our on-campus pub, the Eagle Bar. The Eagle is a really cool place, huge dance floor, beer garden aka outdoor patio, as well as a huge screen for viewing sporting events, most notably the 5-3 preliminary victory of USA over our friendly neighbors to the north. We Americans were well outnumbered by the Canadian exchange kids, but that didn’t stop us from belting out some “USA USA USA” chants! (No mention of the gold medal game will be made.) Anyways, uni night was last night, and it was packed with kids. Lots of fun. The good people of Jim Beam were there promoting, and I won a ton of prizes for beating this game they had (it’s a metal rod with a circle on the end, and you need to guide the rod along a metal wire as it makes turns and curves, and if you touch it, it will buzz and you lose). Well, I won! Haha on my sixth try, aren’t they nice? So I won a football, a pair of Jim Beam logo aviator sunglasses, a deck of cards, a lanyard, and a photo with a Jim Beam Party Girl hahaha which unfortunately also includes an obese Asian man who jumped in at the last minute when the Polaroid got taken. Ah well. Life can’t be perfect, right?
I think that may be all I have for now. I joined the mountaineering club, and today we went indoor rock climbing in the city which was a lot of fun. We have a big weekend trip coming up in two weeks out in the Victorian wilderness, which I am thoroughly excited for. Bushwacking, hiking, kayaking, rock climbing and mountain biking. Bring it on Aus. That might be my next entry, unless something really awesome happens before that, which is a definite possibility in this sunburned land. Many thanks to Vaguey for scaring me shitless just now by sneaking into my room! Jesus Christ. Good night all! I hope everything is well back home, or in Europe or Africa or wherever the hell you are whilst reading this!
I am stealing Liz White’s idea of a small language lesson (copyright E. White) at the end of my post. Start learning these because I will say them when I get back!
Howyagoindeek-ed? (Say: How ya goin dick head?) = Hey friend, how are you these days? (note: deek-ed is not always used, in fact it is quite rare. Usually just say howyagoin?)
I reckin (Say: I reckon) = Yes, I think so/I think that.
Hoooorooooo (Say who-roo) = Adios
Goon (Say goon) = boxed wine, which is a college kid’s godsend at only $10 for 4 liters…a fifth of cheap vodka is $25…
Doona (Say doooo-nah) = comforter, like on a bed.
Lemonade = 7up/Sprite… if you want what we call lemonade you say lemon squash
Grouse = awesome/cool… not a gamebird
Dax = pants
Thongs = sandals/flip flops
Jumper = sweatshirt
Singlet = tanktop
Biscuits = cookies/crackers
Tea = dinnertime
Heeeeeeeey? = Sorry, what did you say?
Lolli = candy
Had a big one, didja? = Did you drink a little too much last night?
Skull = chug
Banarnar = banana
Toastie = grilled sandwich
Sanger = sausage
Footy = aussie rules football. Soccer is soccer. American football is gridiron.
Mackers (Say Maccas) = McDonalds
For the science majors, bacteriaphage is pronounced bacteriaph-AHH-jjjj and I laugh everytime my professor says it because it sounds like she’s gonna end with Fahja.
I think that’s it for now. Sleepytime. Thanks for reading guys, and I will try to post more often so that it’s not all at once. Take care, I love you all!
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