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I’m a Barbie girl?: Tonight was Battle of the Sexes, a trivia night dedicated to determining which is the more intelligent sex (sort of). The festivities started up around 7:30 in the Edwards Hall basement, a large room used for various sorts of gatherings. To break us up into teams, Katie read a multiple-choice quiz that determined how masculine or feminine we are. Based on our scores, she broke us up into the girly girls, manly girls, girly men, and manly men. Anka (a German exchange student) was far and away the most feminine girl there, with her high score of 180. That team was rounded out by Kendal, Luci, Heather, and…. me. Okay, I can hear all of you laughing from all the way over here, but I really did have a score that put me on that team. (Later, when I was talking to Katie about the quiz, she said that I was the only surprise on that team.) We had various activities going on that night: a 15 question trivia quiz, with the boys having written questions for the girls and vice versa; baby photo ID; cheer-writing (like the cheers after ultimate games at tournaments) with a theme given by the opposite gender team; and a bridge-building competition, using wooden skewers, newspaper, poster tac, and toilet paper rolls. I will not belabor this point too much, but we Barbie girls listened when Katie said that she would test the strength of the bridge by setting a cup on it and pouring liquid into the cup. Accordingly, we built a very aesthetically pleasing and flat bridge. Everyone else, however, missed that information and built a long, narrow post to lay across the two tables. We were near the top until the bridge bit, when we ended up last. I don’t really care, since we had lots of fun. (I also decided it was part one of my multi-part going-away party.)
Aussie lunch: I’ve been working up my nerve to try Vegemite, so in honor of the occasion (and as part two of my going-away party: the ChemE portion), we bought heaps of traditional Aussie foods for lunch today. The meal started off with a steak and onion meat pie from Michel’s Patisserie. I had been warned that the frozen meat pies you get in the grocery store don’t contain all that much meat, but I had also been told that the ones from a bakery are usually pretty good. Whoever told me that was right. The meat pie tasted like a very yummy beef stew in pastry. I made my first faux paus of the meal when I thought that we needed forks to eat the meat pie. Apparently you’re supposed to do is pick it up and eat it with your hands.
Next on the menu was a mini-sausage roll, which is a link of sausage wrapped in bread. It was edible, but nothing special.
Then we had gotten to the Vegemite. To be honest, I had actually tried a very small bit of it before, straight from the jar, and it was pretty bad. Glenn spread the Vegemite reasonably thin on a SAO biscuit (basically, a Saltine without the salt), along with some butter. I think it’s entirely possible that Vegemite is now at the top of my list of really nasty foods I’ve had the misfortune of eating in my life, having bumped liver down to the #2 position. I felt like my mouth was trying to crawl out of my head to get away from the taste. Aussies think that Vegemite is “savory”, which I think is just another word for “taste-bud-destroying awful”. Like the trooper I am, I managed to finish the entire biscuit, making some lovely faces along the way. If you don’t believe how bad it is, just check out the expression on my face (when I get around to posting the pictures). I was game enough to try some more Vegemite on a biscuit, spread VERY thin, with a huge chunk of cheese on top. In that combo, I felt that the Vegemite might have been almost savory, since it just added a little kick to the cheese and biscuit. I’ve been told that Vegemite on toast is a commonly used hangover remedy here in Oz. I think the only reason that it works is that the taste is so awful that it blows through any cobwebs left in your brain after a night of hard drinking.
For dessert, we moved onto something tasty: lamingtons. Lamingtons are spongecakes with frosting and coconut on the outside. They come in various flavors of frosting, but Glenn and Gabriel (with whom I went shopping for lunch) said that the chocolate ones are the best. I’m pretty sure they were right. I really enjoyed the lamingtons, so much so that I took the leftovers home with me. (I did NOT take the Vegemite with me.)
The last bit of lunch was musk sticks. I don’t know about you, but as an American, musk is the base for a perfume, not something to eat. Early in my stay here, the topic of musk sticks came up at lunch one day, and I expressed my severe disinterest in ever trying them. Back in our time in Tasmania, LJ and I tried some musk lifesavers, which were unbelievably awful. They tasted much like hand soap, with a subtle overtone of laundry detergent. Musk sticks are supposedly a very popular candy among Aussie kiddies. Again, the first taste of the stick reminded me greatly of soap, but once I got past the first bite, the sugary taste was much more overpowering than the soap flavor. They aren’t bad, but I sure wouldn’t choose to eat them.
Random horrible pun: In the car at Nats, we were discussing boy bands (don’t ask me why) and I brought up 98°. I then said, “Do you think here in Australia they call them 37°?” *groans all around* (This is the point where anyone reading this post disavows all knowledge of ever having been friends with me or related to me.)
Eurovision and a Danish wedding: Friday night was a big night for Aussie television. First up was the 49th annual Eurovision song contest. As an American, who (as is the case with most Americans) generally knows little of the world outside of our country, I had never heard of this contest. In the past, the entrants had to write, sing and choreograph their own songs (hence the “song contest” bit) and dances, but now they just have to sing and perform. The biggest success story from the contest is ABBA, who won it thirty years ago. I had a rather enjoyable time making fun of the hideous outfits and amusing performances that we watched. I think drinking while watching it made it funnier. Friday was only the last elimination round, so we would have to wait until Sunday night to see who would win.
After Eurovision, the Danish prince’s wedding was on television live from the Netherlands. You may wonder why Aussies would care about that. Well, it’s because one of their own, Mary Donaldson of Tasmania, was marrying the prince. They met in summer of 2000 when the Summer Olympics were in Sydney. He picked her up in a bar and eventually they fell in love. She’s not royalty, so it’s one of those “dream come true” scenarios for all the people watching (but especially the single women, I gather).
Free time in Newcastle: Since I had a free day, I decided to sleep in and then go check out a photo exhibit at the Newcastle Region Art Gallery. After that, I just wandered around Newcastle, taking pictures of the sights and trying to embed the images in my memory. I’m really going to miss this place. This evening I had dinner with Flis, Paul, Penny and Rosie at Flis and Paul’s house, and then went with them to a party thrown by some med students.
Another fun day: This morning I went to the EUG training (it’s open to anyone who wants to show up) and played some good, competitive co-ed ultimate. I had a rather fun time. I spent the afternoon cleaning out my desk and doing some of my last experiments. (Note that I’m still working hard on the Sunday before I have to leave.) In the evening, Elizabeth and I watched the Eurovision finals. Ukraine won with a song called “Wild Dance” that was accompanied by some traditional costumes and dances. The singer looked like Catherine Zeta Jones playing the part of Xena, Warrior Princess, but it was still a good performance. I think that they had the only outfits that Heather and I didn’t make fun of while watching the elimination rounds on Friday.
Going-away gatherings abound: I should really leave places more often. J (Don’t ANYONE dare agree with me.) Today we had a group lunch in honor of my leaving. Maybe they’re just celebrating not having to put up with me anymore. We went to a little café on Beaumont St. called Café George. Anthony brought some going-away gifts for me. (I don’t know if it was just Anthony’s shout or if anyone else helped with it, but either way, thanks to Anthony and anyone else involved.) I got a few things with the University of Newcastle logo on it—keychain, pen, and bucket hat—and a 90-minute DVD of Newcastle as seen from a helicopter. The DVD is made by a bloke Anthony knows, so it should be region-free and work in my DVD player, but if not, it does at least work on my laptop DVD player. The scenery is accompanied by some peaceful, soothing music, perfect for those long, stressful days and nights of trying to finish my Ph.D. Anthony said he bought it with that in mind.
Blew our perfect league record: We played the 3-4 game against Phil’s team, while the other two teams played the finals. We had to borrow Paul (the one dating Eliza, not the one engaged to Flis) for a few points while Flis was busy ordering pizza. We somehow ended up winning the game 7-6 or 8-6. We only played for 45 minutes, instead of 1:15 (so we could watch part of the finals), so maybe we didn’t have time to blow our lead. Woohoo! We won our only game when it mattered—when it kept us from ending up last in the league.
Packing—bleck: Today I’ve spent much of the day packing. I did manage to get everything into my suitcases, but I’m a bit worried about the weight limits. I need to check online to figure out if I’m going to end up paying extra. I really hope not. At least this way I don’t have to ship anything home. I’m a bit worried about doing that, since LJ shipped some stuff home four weeks ago and it’s still not there yet.
Long days and nights: After staying up until 3:30 last night, I got up at 8 am to do some last-minute packing and mail Eddie’s mobile back to him. Elizabeth was gone to work by the time I got up, but I found a nice shirt and card from her waiting for me on the kitchen counter. (Thanks, Eliz.! That was really cool.) Happy Cabby Novostar picked me up around 10 am with my 150+ lbs of stuff. I’m only guessing at the weight, but I’m probably not far off.
The drive to the airport was long. I think it took over 2 hours, but I’m not really sure why. I got to my ticket counter at 1:15 for a 2:45 pm flight. There was no line, so I was through in only a couple minutes. My checked bags turned out to weigh 31.3 and 31.8 kgs, respectively, for the hard-shell suitcase I had borrowed from Dave and my Samsonite, which meant I just squeaked in under the weight limit of 32 kgs per bag. My two carryon bags were really heavy, too, especially the suitcase with all my labs notebooks and papers in it.
Check one food off the list: Long ago, I had started thinking about what foods I really wanted to eat when I got back to the US. A good American pizza was on the list, as was some Bojangle’s fried chicken and sweet tea. Of course, Krispy Kreme was high up there on the list, too. However, what to my wondering eyes should appear (in the Sydney airport), but the familiar green-and-white sign very near. I found Krispy Kreme. The doughnuts were SO expensive--AUD$1.80 EACH for a classic glazed doughnut—but that sweet taste of nirvana in hand-held form was worth every cent. I got one of my food cravings satisfied.
Long flights: Security took no time all, as I’ve come to expect in Australia. (I’m not looking forward to security lines in the US.) Boarding the plane was easy and painless. I was in seat 48A on a 747, hoping to not have anyone next to me since I was traveling coach class back to the US with all the other common people. J The flight was pretty empty, so I lucked out and got seats 48A, B, and C to myself. I watched “Along came Polly”—amusing enough for a free movie, but I’m glad I didn’t pay to see it—had dinner, and then drifted off to sleep. Due to my minimal sleep the night before, I was able to fall asleep at 5 pm Sydney time, or 1 am Boulder time, and slept pretty solidly for a total of 8 hours, getting me a good head-start on getting over jetlag. I felt great when I woke up. We had breakfast and arrived in LAX about half an hour early. Unfortunately, as I would soon learn, it turns out that I would need that time.
Back to US security disasters: The customs line took about half an hour or more to get through. When I got to the front, the customs guy took a quick bored look at my form and passport and stamped them both. I then had to collect my luggage long enough for the customs people to make sure I had no contraband in it and then recheck it through. That’s when the fun really started. (And when I say fun, I really mean “not fun”.) I could not figure out where my gate was, since there were no monitors with that information anywhere near the international terminal that I had just left. I asked at information; he called someone and found out it was 68A and told me to take the elevator up to the P (third) level. I did as he said and disembarked the elevator with a few other passengers. There were only 5 or 6 people in the security line, but the guy there looked at our boarding passes and sent us down an escalator to another level without a word. I was very puzzled by this, since I could see on the wall above me that my gate was through that security area. I flagged someone down, who explained to me that I should have gone to the T level (which I was now on) since there was a line down there for the security clearance. So, that’s all well and good, but I wish the information guy had known, seeing as he’s there to give information. (I guess the sign didn’t say “Correct information”.) I got in the security line, which moved slowly for a few minutes and then stopped dead. Then the line did not move for at least 15 minutes. I had gotten off my international flight with two hours to spare (landed at 10:45 for a 12:45 flight to Denver), but between the slow customs queue and whatever was fubared with this security line, I was almost at the boarding time of 12:15 listed on my ticket. Finally, they sent us up the escalator to where I had gotten off the elevator 30 minutes before. Then, of course, I ran into the usual problem with my mini-camera tripod. The nice security lady asked me if I had any tools in my bag. I had no clue what she was talking about, so then she had to start pulling things out of my overstuffed backpack. As she was doing that, I remembered the tripod and told her about it. She finally found it and reran my bag through the x-ray with no problems. Then I had to spend 5 minutes shoving everything back into my bag.
My flight was boarding when I got there. When I got to the gate, I asked a gate agent if my larger carryon bag would fit in the overhead bin. What I was trying to ask is if the plane had room for a bag that thick (e.g., a 747, like the one from Sydney, does, but a 767 doesn’t), but he misunderstood and said there should be plenty of room in the overhead bins since the flight wasn’t full. I was right to be concerned, since I was on a 757 with tiny bins. The purser was very kind and let me put the bag in the purser’s closet up by the cockpit. She did give me a bit of a talking-to, which I probably deserved for carrying such a heavy bag, but I told her I had just come off a 747 which had plenty of room in it.
After an uneventful flight to Denver, Dave met me in the main terminal. We dragged my junk to the car and headed home by the superfast but expensive tollway north of town. I got my American pizza and some good beer at BJ’s and had Cold Stone ice cream for dessert.
Back in the USA: And so another chapter in the adventure of my life draws to a close. I thank those of you who found this travel log interesting enough to follow for the duration. I’m sure there are plenty of good stories that I neglected to write along the way, so please feel free to ask me about my time there. I love talking about Australia. Heck, I love Australia and can’t wait to go back.
Some things I have learned in Australia:
Meat pies are not disgusting. Vegemite is.
Research is just as frustrating and exhilarating in another country as it is back home. The scenery is just different.
What we think of as typical Australian—Crocodile Hunter, Paul Hogan—is NOT representative of the country as a whole. That would be like thinking that the stereotypical backwoods Southerner is representative of the US.
You can abbreviate almost any word if you try hard enough.
A few things I have lost:
The watch that Becky gave me for Christmas (that she said I could lose).
My favorite sunglasses.
Some of the stress I’ve been carrying in graduate school (although not all of it).
Several things I have gained/found:
Some good friends in a foreign land. (Love you Newcastle folks, and I can’t wait to see you again, either in my land or yours.)
Lots of new experiences.
An appreciation for the slower side of life.
A sense of perspective about who I am and where I’m going in
life. (No, really, I do think I have
that now, at least more than I did before I left.)
Motivation to hurry up and graduate so I can go back to Australia.