Snowfun.

Last week (ok, so this is a little out of date now) I went on a trip to the snow with most of my family. It was a flippin' brilliant time.
We drove to Mt Beauty, where we were staying, on the Monday, craning our necks for glimpses of snowy mountains as we got closer. Was it really true? Could Australian-[small]sized mountains really grow enough snow to go skiing on? To warrant ski-lifts? The anticipation grew.
Arrival, and still barely a suggestion of snow anywhere about. We suspended doubt, and went and sent a local hire place into a flurry of activity, fitting out all 8 of us with gear.
Morning arrives, and we claw our way out of cosy beds, dilly-dally through breakfast and preparing lunch, tumble into the car with gloves, beanies, glasses, goggles, jackets, more jackets crammed in everywhere, and wound our way up the hills. Snowy caps began to emerge. Anticipation budded and shot. We chuckled at parked cars, coated in thick layers of snowy fondant.
We were here!! We purchased our lift passes, donned our skis, and headed up. The slightly more experienced of the crew headed off to tackle the slopes, while the beginners agonised their way through a lesson. Let us free! The freshly powdered snow beckoned.
Finally, we were off.
I snow-ploughed my way down the first few runs, and then gingerly began to get a handle on turning. I got really good at falling over. I wasn't very good at slowing down. But going fast feels so terrifyingly good!

Anyway, a couple of pictures:

Snow Angel!

The Crew

Gorgeous sunshiney day

Sun-setting on snowy slopes

Cheese!

Pete looking pro even while on his behind

Spot of cross-country

Yay!!

It was probably the funnest family holiday ever.

(Despite the fact that I slaughtered my ACL -anterior cruciate ligament - the one in your knee that you need to do the fun stuff.. but that's another story.)
And I can't wait to go again. (If I go before getting surgery, then I don't have to worry about snapping my acl again. Good plan?)

Q: What did the cannibal order for take-away?

In our house we always comment on how the conversation around the dinner table of an evening invariably turns to something mildly or majorly gross.

Bodily functions, more bodily functions, off stuff - squashed stuff - dead stuff... I can't even think what else, but it happens. HOW DOES IT HAPPEN?!

And then last night, I was at a friend's house for dinner and you know what? Grossness invades once again! and hilarity ensues.. (I swear I'm not the common denominator here).

Maybe we actually talk about this sort of stuff all the time, it's just that we only notice it at dinner..

Maybe eating food is actually a kind of gross activity and we're just not aware of it anymore, but it's still subconsciously connected to all the grossness in our memories and sneaks out in our conversation! (ok that's a long shot, I'll grant you that).

Maybe it's just that having everyone around, silly-happy-food-eating spirits bouncing off each other, that happens to be the right ingredients to create unsavoury conversation.

Maybe.
I shall continue to ponder this while dunking my scotch finger and sipping my tea.

And here's a tasty mealtime, from a little while back:

Oh, you want the answer?

 Pizza with everyone on it.

Fixing & Building

I kind of wish I'd posted a bit more during prac. I feel like there was a lot more I could have said about it.. I guess though there's always that trouble of what to say & what to leave out for confidentiality's sake.
Oh well, it's over now anyhow! It was super interesting having a prac in Mental Health. I don't reckon I'd want to work in it though.. or maybe not just that.
But it is what you make of it, as well. I was really inspired by a lady at my prac who spoke about how she used creativity in her rural health job - both creatively tackling problems, but also creative methods with people.. It was encouraging to hear how even though a health job - which can seem so structured and regulated and staid - can be made rich and varied and flexible.

I was also thinking lately about how I want work that isn't so much about trying to 'fix' people, but about helping build beautiful things - lives, families, and communities - and how the change in emphasis and perspective makes such a difference.

Anyway, now I'm back at uni, a prac-less semester this time around, so I'm beginning to think (or freak out!!) a lot more about assignments and lectures and readings and groupwork.. and put the dreaming about the future on hold. *sigh*. 

Life as an appendage

So I've been on prac just over 8 weeks now and there's a lot of stories I haven't told.
I should probably begin by explaining the title.


It was about the second week there and I was sitting in a team meeting that had been agonising its way through several hours and they're having this discussion about whether or not students should be able to sit in on peer supervision sessions or not and who should make the call. They end up deciding that it's up to the individual supervisor, because, as one lady so tactfully put it:
"Students are pretty much just appendages of their supervisor anyway" !!!
The whole room cracked up, and I nearly died of awkward, nervous laughter. My supervisor wasn't there.

An appendage - kind of like the extra foot on this frog?

So anyway, here's some of what I've learnt from my life as an appendage:

1. Appendages sit and smile when appropriate. They try to imitate a sofa when it's not. They don't blush when people are talking about their sex life. They don't cry when they get too involved in someone's story. They don't laugh too loudly. When in doubt or when things get awkward, they look at the worker or at the floor. Because they can't interact, they absorb stuff kind of like a sponge, and reflect on it later. Appendages get really good at reflection.

2. Appendages get quite lonely when they are abandoned two days a week because their supervisor only works part time. In this time if they are lucky they might be taken out to go on a visit. If not they will sit in the office trying to keep busy. They will do odd jobs if they are ever given any, improve their understanding through extensive reading, trawl through databases looking for research for their supervisor's project, stare into space, and drink tea. Appendages like tea.

3. Appendages like getting to sit in with the group. They can actually forget a little bit, for a little while, that they are only appendages, and can chat with the mums, encourage them, smile at the bubs. The mums seem to notice there's a person beneath the appendage facade.

4. Appendages, however, do get to meet interesting people and hear interesting stories and find out about interesting things.

5. Appendages also get to eat cake. And chocolate biscuits. Chocolate biscuits make up for a lot.


To be honest, (not that I wasn't earlier), it has actually been a pretty cool placement and I have learnt a lot overall. It's always a privilege to get a little window into people's lives - whether it's other workers, clients, whatever. The service is a mental health one that helps mums with their bubs, and you hear a lot of hard stories and see some tough stuff, but you know what really stands out? That people are people no matter where they've been or what they're going through or the label that's plastered all over their file. And here the staff are really good at seeing that.

Also, less than two weeks till holidays! I will miss the people, and especially I'll wonder how all the clients end up going, but am pretty excited for freedom.

yay :)

Peace on a Page

I've been reading this book called Wildwood: A Journey through Trees by Roger Deakin, and it is one of the most suprisingly peace-inducing books I have ever read!
The whole book is literally about trees.. stories about forests, birds, fields, streams, cicadas, wood-loving people.. Hard to describe, but it's amazing. Beautiful things, beautiful places. So calmly descriptive; gently reflective. Little forays into an alternate reality with all the time in the world to watch a rook, or bluebells grow. It's funny, even just carrying it around gives a touch of stillness inside. (yes I admit it, I'm weird like that).

Here's a taste-test for you:

"Why do I sleep outdoors? Because of the sound of the random dripping of rain off the maples or ash trees over the roof of the railay wagon, or the hopping of a bird on the wet felt of the roof, or the percussion of a twig against the stell stove-chimney. Out there, I hear the yawn of the wind in the trees along Cowpasture Lane. I feel in touch with the elements in a way I never do indoors.

Sleeping one time in Burgate Wood on the moated island of the old hall, I put my cheek against the loam and the cool ground ivy. When I closed my eyes I saw the iceberg depths of the wood's root-world. Walking there, picking my way through the trees, I had thought of it as perpendicular until I lay down and entered the ground-world. This is the part of a wood that only reveals itself occasionally after a big storm, when the trees have keeled over and the roots are thrown suddenly upright, clutching earth and stones.

How deep do roots go?"


I usually finish prac just before the sun sets, and it's been nice catching glimpses of it as I ride home, the rapidly cooling air whipping at my throat, crunching over red and yellowed leaves, the light drawing shadows long and blushing-colouring the streets and trees. It's nice that autumn comes, even in town - amongst the brick buildings sheafs of powerlines, stretches of grimy bitumen, howling cars. Nice to notice it.

Hero with a Thousand Faces..

I can't remember who wrote the book, but Gil based the creative writing night stuff on Carl Jung's work on archetypes, and the book Hero with a Thousand Faces. Ah, here we go: written by James Campbell, a "seminal work in comparative mythology".

Above is a diagram showing a format for "the hero's journey" which Gil took us through. It's by a dude called Vogler who based his diagram/thinking on Campbell's one (shown below). I stole them both from here (the dude writing about them isn't so keen on the idea, but I like it..). Basically the deal Campbell's on about is that most stories that "work" (and the broad scheme of myths & mythologies) have a hero that is shoved out of his ordinary world and into an adventure! He is challenged and learns stuff and changes along the way.. and ends up back in the ordinary world but with the tools to redeem it.. I don't think it's necessarily the only way to have a good story, but it does seem to work, and crop up quite a bit! And it's cool.. I guess, in the simplest form it ties in with what we were all taught about stories and plot in school - setting, complication, resolution etc..

Anyway, whichever way you look at it, stories are cool, and myths are awesome. I wanna read more myths! Anyone got a favourit one??

Place Sketch

One of the exercises from the creative writing night Gil ran for FEAST. Pretty crappy effort here but twas fun!!

Hey! Food! The succulent scent of stale mouldering coffee grinds, spicy souring milk, buttery sugar-crusted muffins.. There's a chip! Mm, salt. Crispy smooth. Rich and biting whiff of... possum! Wheeeeeeeee! Tracking down the cobbled path, sunshine glinting off the garbage, skirting leaf-littered puddles.
Another whiff! A tree, rough-stripped bark offering bleached white limbs. Lost it.Wait - a dull roar - claws tapping on cold concrete, through swinging doors, a rowdy room. Babbling confusion of tiered pale faces, avalanche of sweat and spice and sickening sweetness. Humans! Time to play! Leap the steps, lick salty knees.
The rumble ebbs, silence descends. No one looking, no one touching.
Woman down the front glares, face pointed, bears down...
I turn and frisk away.

How to Wash a Tractor (and turn into a mud monster) in Four Easy Steps

1. Using some sort of pressurised hose, blow the dust out of the cab. Whirlwind created - cough, splutter and thank your lucky stars you're not asthmatic. Dust settles in cab again. Repeat.

2. Hose down tractor. Be sure to choose a nice bit of un-grassed dirt to wash the tractor on, and don't bother about finding a fitting to go on the end of the hose. This way you can splatter water all over yourself as well as the tractor, and turn the ground into mud which can splatter up your legs (as well as sludgifying the dust which had already settled on your person).

3. Wash down the windows. With soap. And a towel. The soap bubbles run down your arms really smoothly, and the streaks of lather make a nice addition to your costume.

4. Spray more water, everywhere, just to finish things off with a bang. Also should have mentioned earlier: don't bother wearing gumboots - joggers soak up the muddy water so effectively.


BUT FINALLY, the Question we all want an answer to?!: HOW did I grow up on a farm and not learn to drive a tractor?!??

Inconceivable.

One of these days this must be remedied.

Days in the sun..

So lots of cool stuff has been happening lately.
I had a birthday - which in itself is not actually very exciting, but I did feel very loved - man, all these sweet people in my world!
I slept in, had delicious midday breakfast, got FREE bubble milk tea, and went to a trivia fundraiser thing and won a sports kit - soccer ball, frisbee, bat and stumps!! Winning things is fun, I think it's the first time I've ever won anything in a raffle!

The next day I made lanterns and pie, and had a party. That was great. The lanterns actually worked, and only one of them caught itself on fire - and that wasn't till near the end!! hehe. I wish I had more photos of the night -  it looked so pretty; all these golden glowing prisms, flickering candles and torches, surrounded by the shadowy nightforest..

On Sunday I biked into town with a couple of friends and we went to the people's coal port blockade. I'd never been before, so thought I'd check it out. The whole coal thing is a pretty tricky issue, but I am becoming more & more convinced that there must just be better ways of living and making money.. The coal dust sucks, the country being dug up and wrecked sucks, let alone stuffing the atmosphere.. hmm.
Also it was a gorgeous day, and paddling around the port in the sparkling water was just sub-lime.

Sweet pic by Em's friend Pas

Lastly we had community gathering, I went to dinner with excellent soccer buddies, and then the uni week was back on!

One of these days I shall do a really nice and together-ish post - for now, hope you enjoyed the random happenings!

Playdoh and Prostitutes

So today in class we had 6 hours of group presentations. Yes, you read it correctly - 6 HOURS. And a total of one break, not included in the 6 HOURS. bleerrrrrrrrrrgggghhh.
To be honest, it could have been worse! People did make an effort to make things interesting - we got to play with playdoh (create-your-own public art!), we were bribed with chocolate (always a winner), we heard about the Newcastle Lockout (only 3 times), the legalised prostitution debate (interesting..), disability policy, Cessnock & Tidy Towns, Place-making in Newcastle, and more..
I managed (just) to stay awake for all of it, and got a letter written into the bargain.

Here's one of the playdoh artworks:

We did the Pasha Bulka for ours - Alyssa's amazing ship and my tiny starfish-like people were pretty incredible! But as there's no photographic evidence, you'll just have to take my word for it..

Multiple Methods of Freezing, or - Stories from Guilin, China

The first very excellent way to freeze is to arrive at 4:30am.

Apparently it was about 3 degrees, but I could have sworn it was below zero! Pitch-black and we stumbled off the bus bleary-eyed, hoping we hadn't forgotten anything, fighting our way through the committed gaggle of taxi drivers and hotel emissaries who homed straight in on us tourists. We had thought we were going to arrive about an hour later, which had seemed much more palatable at the time.. nevertheless, we strode off down the street, attempting to look like we knew where we were going.
We found a little eating house, and charged in hopefully. The owner was about to close (he had been open all night) but graciously extended his hours just for us. We ordered a mountain of food (including the most delicious frog porridge you could ever imagine - frog, I know right?!!) and slowly munched our way through, gradually warming from the inside out. Freeze beaten! At least for the moment..

Another very excellent way to freeze is to go on a raft trip. We had bussed our way down to the little touristy town of Yangshuo - surrounded by those towering rocky peaks the Guilin area is famous for - and as a raft is just the best way to view those peaks, well, a raft it was going to be. We ended up with a raft-woman ( I think her husband was at lunch!), climbed into her little roofed vehicle, and off we went. On the way down the winding river we were too entranced by the soaring landscape to much notice the cold. Helen made friends with the raft lady  and she stopped at the farthest point of our journey so that we could get off and take pictures. She really got into the photographer role, directing us around - face here, face there, even getting Jasmine to pretend to pole the raft by herself!
The only drawback was that on the way back an icy breeze blew up, and having no new scenery to distract us we merely sat shivering pitifully, sitting on our hands to keep them from solidifying into meaty iceblocks.

A final very effective way is to go bike-riding. Now riding in winter is really not so bad for the core of the body, but those poor extremities, like arms and hands and feet and face - they do not appreciate this. Pedalling along, swapping hands from pockets to handlebars (I am not quite coordinated enough to ride completely hands-free, sadly), face numbly expressionless. But you know what? It was a beautiful ride - cruising down the road with those postcard peaks rising on both sides, passing roadside stalls, over bridges, visiting a lurid-lit 'Dragon Cave' and a hilariously awful 'Native culture experience', and just riding on, watching the mist swirl. So worth it.

Finally - hot ginger tea. It makes everything better. That is all.

Favourite Thailand Times

..in no particular order.

-Watching tiny baby Piccolo, Dee's latest addition to the family, pulling tiny baby faces.

-Riding an elephant through the jungle, and then rafting down a gorgeous misty little river afterwards.

-Our last night at Sankla children's home: Games with the kids, communal outdoor hotpot (big steaming pots of broth over fires, in which we cooked meats and vegies and noodles), watching the kids play with glowsticks, singalong by a bonfire.

-Completing a nice long chunk of fence.

-Visiting a family Dee was helping out during the flooding, and unexpectedly being treated to a lovely Thai feast.

-Singing and sharing in the evenings at Dee's house.

-Helping with the big Sunday cookup, kitchen humming with activity, mortar and pestle beating away..

-Dee's amazing, varied, endlessly trumpeting laugh (no reason required).

-eating.(and more: eating.)

-Crazy scootering around Samed Island (I didn't die, or kill anyone, so it's all good.)

-Watching the gorgeous Mocha dance.

You may have figured this was a kinda different Thailand trip to many!

How NOT to get a Chinese Visa

Step 1: Only find out you have to apply in person less than a week before you leave your home country.

2. Choose a country with horrendously unclear information about what you actually need for your application.

3. Try to apply around the holiday season (ie Chinese New Year).

4. Choose a city to apply in that has the worst traffic imaginable.

5. Where you don't speak the language.

6. Where everyone tries to be super helpful and tell you what to do/which way to go even if they have no idea.

7. Catch taxis that don't know the way and try to work it out as you go along.

8. Go within a block of the embassy, lose faith in your map-reading abilities, and head in the opposite direction.

9. Catch another taxi that doesn't know where it is meant to be going.

10. Get told to get out, not look properly, tip over a policeman on a motorbike, get escorted to police station and held there until the embassy is shut for the day.

The policeman was whingeing and moaning a whole bunch about his wrist (I don't think it was really hurt at all) and yelling at the poor taxi driver for ages and making him get in touch with his insurance company.. The people in the police station had a bit of a chuckle at him but they still took it seriously. The taxi man and I were both charged with traffic negligence or something, and charged 500 baht apiece (about $15).

The policeman tried to charge us 4,700 baht for damage to the bike. We insisted there was no damage (there wasn't, demanded to be shown the bike, and ended up talking the other policeman (who was handling the case) round. We didn't have to pay damages, but he suggested we pacify the man by giving him some money for the physio, which we did (although regretted it later! Wish I'd given it to the poor sad taxi driver instead, even tho he probably shouldn't have told us to get out in the middle of traffic :P).

The good news is, that after waiting for hours in a queue that stretched for more than a block this morning, I finally got my visa!! Yew!! Just in time.

Sunday morning in Bangkok

The streets are quieter, roads watersplashed.
People opening shops, putting out gifts for the gods. Flowers, food, water, incense. Even soft drink. Outside a big bank, two whole roast chickens.
People sweeping, making coffee, chatting as they hang against doorframes.
Bright line of cheap t-shirts, man flashing smile, hopeful look.
Smell smoke, noodles, gusting of petrol. Sleeping dog.
Day begun.

Fence-building and River Fun!

We spent most of the past week at Dee's main children's home. It's situated near the border with Myanmar, 3 lovely buildings that Dee designed herself on a little block of land just outside town (there's another home in town, with more of her family, where 20 other kids live). About 30 kids live there, cared for by Dee's sister and her husband, and one of Dee's brothers. Dee's sister, Pola, loves to cook, and makes amazing meals for the entire community every single day! They also have a bunch of pigs (Dee loves pork), lots of banana trees, flowers and herbs, and a little soccer field.

Being waved off by Pola and the 3 youngest there - nicknamed Cocoa, Milo & Chocolate!

We were helping to build a new fence - cement poles, wire strung between, and then bamboo sticks woven in the wire to make it animal-proof. They were even making the cement poles from scratch! Tying together a wire frame for each one, then filling it with concrete mixed in a pile on the ground.

We also helped load and unload 4 ute-trays of gravel and rock from the river to the house one morning. We'd just filled the first ute up to the brim, only to hear the engine roll over and die! On the wrong side of the river, no less. Thankfully they soon got it going again.

We went swimming in the river every day to cool off, and played games with the kids every evening (they LOVE duck duck goose - generally pronounced duh duh goo!). They have a time for devotions every night (so beautiful seeing the kids singing their little hearts out!) which we got involved with, telling stories, clapping along as best we could.. and sometimes singing the english words if it was a tune we knew (that copped some strange looks!)

One day at the river, we'd all got out of the ute already when all of a sudden, Cusay drives it right in, obviously intending to cross (no one has any idea why he decided to try it, but there you go!) and he got stuck in the pebbles just past half-way. Another ute turned up as well (apparently we were collecting more rocks?). It was much more of an off-road vehicle, and purred away quite happily in the river there as we filled it with rocks and waited for someone with a rope to come and rescue the first car! No one seemed perturbed in the slightest (I was all like - ahh! What if the motor drowns?!) but they pottered along, some of the kids even taking advantage of the opportunity to give the cars a bit of a wash!

All in a day's work.


p.s. FYI I'm getting used to the rough sleeping, but my bum's still sore.. haha

Seven uses of a Sarong

-towel
-provider of modesty in communal bathing and/or changing situations
-skirt
-bag
-sunshield
-sheet
-headscarf

Baby-sling is also possible, but I haven't yet had the opportunity to attempt that as yet!

I feel that a South-east Asian amendment to the Hitchhiker's Guide recommendations is in order:
"Always carry your sarong with you..."

Have Boat will Travel

Wednesday

We made a quick getaway this morning (sad to leave these kids so fast!), off to a village on the river where we ate a hearty ricey breakfast and hired a boat (sort of like a long flatbottomed canoe, with a roof rigged up and a motor on the back) to take us to another little hamlet which is only accessible by water! Beautiful ride through the knobbly jungled blue hills. Just a little mist wreathing the shores.

The day passed in meeting some official people (town leader, police officers), eating (of course), a river bathe, a noisy meeting at the church filled with rambunctious children and a few adults. We sang and I helped in a skit (Dee nearly fell off her seat laughing). She had to pull herself together then to speak ('I must remember I'm not in my own home!').

We taught Dee, Pon, Pipi and Pakwali how to play Spoons and Warlords and Scumbags. Dee (this is beginning to sound repetitive) found it hilarious fun, even though she lost most times. :)

Plank floor for a bed again - how long does it take for these weak western hips to toughen up?!

Sore Bum Chronicles Day #2

Tuesday

Waking this morning to the sounds of a couple of chirpy toddlers, bucket showers in action, traffic outside, bustling in the kitchen.. We take stock of the situation over breakfast (which, incidentally, is eaten on the floor, with the hands, like most meals. Also, like most meals, it is based on rice, helped along by most members with lashings of chilli paste.)

About 10 or 12 people live here - I'm still not sure exactly how many! - but there's Dee, of course, the bubbly leader/older sister/surrogate mother, two toddlers who Dee has rescued from abandonment and are not yet big enough for any of her children's homes; there's a bunch of guys, a few girls, and of course blessed old Timu, who takes care of everyone, champion of the kitchen, cleanliness management etc.

After getting ourselves together we pack our bags and pile into their old ute - 5 in the cab, 6 or 7 in the tray. 7hrs driving, here we go!! Agh, you're beginning to get a feel for this sore bum business? We're off to one of Dee's children's homes - primarily for taking care of a whole bunch of orphaned Karen refugee kids (Karen people lived in Myanmar until the Burmese decided to try and exterminate them a bunch of years ago. Dee is also Karen, and everything she does is centered on caring for her scattered people).

After a couple of hours we've finally beaten Bangkok and are out in the towns. We stop now and then for fuel, or drinks, or food (the last is easily the most important to all concerned). The ground begins to rise, the air freshens, we pass some lakes or rivers, and arrive at a cluster of little bamboo huts on stilts. One of them is ours! We meet the kids, and as it's the hour for showering Belle and I head down to the shower hut where we wrestle with soap and sarongs and tip buckets of water over eachother (which one of the girls is pulling up from the well there).

Back for dinner which we share on the rickety but clean bamboo floor; we have fun teaching the kids a little english, drawing pictures, saying and repeating.. We sing some songs and they copy our actions with suprising speed and accuracy. I tell a story, we sing some more, unroll our beds and sleep (the bamboo has a little more spring than the solid wood floors at Dee's, which is nice.) The cocks start crowing around 4:30...

I'm struggling to think quite how to approach telling the story of this past week away, so I'm going to attempt some daily logs and see how far I get!

Monday

Sydney farewelled us with a friendly Lebanese taxi driver and a gorgeous dusky red 5am moon-set; the Gold Coast farewelled us with glimpses of rich green hills; Kuala Lumpur farewelled us with a bellyful of laksa (the special penang kind, Koiter) and assorted weird dried fruit samples; and finally we are welcomed into the delectable spread of sparkling lights that is Bangkok! Combined total=sore bum.

Dee came to pick us up - little, round, laughing, laughing merrily away without end. Two guys came too, and took possession of the first of our bags that came to hand. Being too shy to ask to help with another, they shared it and bounced away, swinging it between them, cracking flashes of smiles all the way to the car.

Falling onto our lightly padded grass mats just before midnight (but 3:30am back home); our epic day was finally at an end.