At the Middle Mark

I can’t believe I haven’t written a blog since before the start of first semester and now I’m nearly ready to begin my second. I think I probably had a lot more to say about uni while it was in session, and now that I’m on holiday there’s nothing I’d rather think about less. People frequently asked if it’s much different than NYU, and I have to say it is. It was very different not being constantly monitored and assessed with homework, quizzes, attendance, etc. and instead having so much weights being placed on final papers and exams. At points, it was nice because I was able to have a bit more flexibility with my schedule, but at other times it was frustrating because I felt the energy I was putting into going to lectures and discussions and doing readings was pointless because it was getting me any credit, and it was a lot of pressure at the end to do well on one thing. But the style of teaching and presenting information to students at uni here is just different in general and based a lot more on individual motivation. Despite the differences, I did surprisingly well in my classes, so I can’t complain too much.

One thing that’s really come home for me (as will happen when you start to make somewhere your home) is many of the stereotypes, ideas, and generalizations I had about Australia have usually not proven true. I was told Australians get excited over Americans, but after spending all semester at uni with arguably more internationals than Australians, I realized there is a general level of desensitization. I was also under the impression that finding a job would be a breeze (or at least less excruciating than it is back home), but again my best American-foot-forward approach was thrown back in my face with reasons like my student visa was an issue, or only permanent residents should apply, or I would need a NSW drivers license even though the job required no driving. Other Americans and internationals have part-time jobs, so it IS possible and such excuses might be a nice, Australian way of hinting at me that I am incompetent. Even coffee shops are telling me I need to go to somewhere called “coffee school.” But… I go to REAL school! I insist. Surely I can steam milk!
Stone-cold emotionlessness.
I think I have mentioned Australians take their coffee seriously.

Speaking of serious, I was also promised a certain level of safety in Australia. I’ve ever felt UNsafe per se, but ever since we got a tv in our apartment – about 2 weeks ago – I have been watching the news constantly, and there is a never-ending flood of murders, stabbings, and random attacks on the general public. I’m not saying it’s anything worse than what happens in the US, a country which on the Wikipedia page of “serial killers by country” simply has a link to its own separate page called something like “Giant List of US Serial Killers.” The difference is in the United States, when you kill someone it’s very frequently gang related, drug related, or you’re stealing something. Or you’re one of the thousands of serial killers. Here, the violence seems to be increasingly random, senseless, and totally ridiculous. Also, people told me there were no guns here, but you wouldn’t think that if you heard any news in Melbourne where someone seems to be shot every third second. Yet whenever there is a story about some violent occurrence in the States, especially when it’s gun-related, the unfailing response of the newscasters is: “Tsktsk. Only in America.” Hmm. Nice tryyyyy, Australia.

Now that I’ve cheekily mentioned Melbourne, I guess I can talk about the real reason I came to Australia: holidays. Our three-day excursion to Victoria was my first trip outside NSW, and unsurprisingly, it left me wanting more travel. I settled on wanting to go to Melbourne after hearing about famous historical hotspots such as little Italy and the Penguin Parade. Chatter about fabulous boutique shopping didn’t hurt, but my bank account vehemently disagreed and I was suddenly reminded why I felt so guilty sitting around eating those tiny $6 pints of Ben and Jerry’s instead of passing out my resume. Instead we did *free* things, which in Australia doesn’t mean turnstile jumping and illegally riding carnival rides or sneaking into a movie theater like it does in America. It means going to national art galleries, expansive botanical gardens, and seeing some seriously beguiling street art. Considered an integral part of public education, there are no ticket or entry fees to any of these things. The only thing that cost any money was the trip we took to Phillip Island to see the Nobbies conservation land and the absolutely adorable penguins that migrate onshore and burrow inland every night. We caught a good spot on the boardwalk and watched the penguins waddle right by us group by group and find their little homes in the hills. That, and getting to see some kangaroos up close was worth the cold rainy weather that the island hosted us.

Animals have been the center of more than one holiday endeavor. I haven’t been to a zoo yet since they can be simultaneously cool and depressing (though I did visit a wildlife park in a rural part of Victoria which was also simultaneously cool and depressing). I learned that the beginning of July was the last chance to see the whale migration around the coastline. I went to the now infamous “Shire” and up to Kurnell’s Botany Bay National Park to whale watch at Cape Solander. After waiting four hours in the cold rain with migration volunteers, we finally saw a giant splash and waving dorsal fin of a small whale – the last one of the day. I was proud of the sighting until hearing of other more obvious ones that people didn’t wait four hours to see, like the birth of a baby whale that’s just happened right in the center of Sydney Harbour.

Holidays have also afforded me the chance to explore farmers markets, gorgeous northern beaches, more country and mountain towns outside Sydney, and enjoy some more gym time. I’ve also been able to delve a little deeper into the Sydney art world attending some of the 18th annual Biennale installations around the city. I saw exhibitions on Cockatoo Island and on the piers of Walsh Bay featuring really interesting contemporary art and some live performances. And although I unfortunately missed the Sydney Spanish Film Festival, I am truly psyched and ready for the Aroma Festival, which promises tons of free cake and coffee samples.

I should also mention that I am no longer living in Northbridge – since about the second week of school, I’ve been living the high life in Sydney’s upstanding inner west. Tom and I are in a tiny studio clearly meant for one (at most) in Camperdown; the same suburb as uni. While it’s a small habitat, I’m happy to note that we have a full kitchen, which is something that even the larger and pricier places lacked. We also have a nice bathtub and a balcony and the roaches have been to a fair minimum so I guess not too many complaints can be lodged… particularly since the walk to uni is so short. Our street is a strange one though. Tons of mechanic shops and warehouses, and itis often dead silent. But the street is paralleled by a beautiful park oval lined with some favored cafes, and on the other side, by Newtown’s bustling King Street, which beckons me incessantly with vintage shopping and delish vegan pastries. I guess in that sense Salisbury Road is a good sanctuary; when I’m done browsing “pre-loved” leather jackets, or drinking a bottle of wine in the indie movie theater (which is a totally acceptable thing to do), I can cultivate my herb garden while listening to various news updates on how many 13 year old Australian girls have started speaking in tongues and convulsing over Justin Bieber sightings. I told you – there are a lot of crazy and irrational people in this country.

No matter how much time passes though, I can’t escape NY. In Melbourne, I had coffee at a secret little café called Hoboken, and in St. Kilda, lunch next to a restaurant called Bleecker Street. Here in Sydney, I’ve shopped at a store called SoHo and frequently pass a painfully blatant knock-off of Burger King aptly named King Burger which is located on Broadway. There aren’t a lot of American shows on the five channels I get on my tiny television, but I do hear a lot about how Obama is a great guy for introducing health care that will hopefully allow America to catch up with the rest of the industrialized world, and how George Bush is a gorilla that no one in any country or deserted island will ever respect for any reason. All of these things are just little breaths of fresh air reminding me of home, and that barring some JOB *ahem* keeping me here, I am already halfway back.