I would like to make it clear to those reading this blog that I have not been procrastinating. It is my hope that through cataloging the events of the last two weeks that you will understand the sheer lack of time that a day provides for writing. I ended the last post at the time that I arrived in my unit. I believe that this is as good a place as any to take up the thread.
My first two days at Edith Cowan were marked by extreme disorientation. For those first two days I would find myself wake far too early in the morning (often at times that most would consider night), and falling asleep early in the afternoon. When I was awake I spent the majority of my time wondering the local shopping center (mall) and getting thoroughly lost on campus.
I believe it was my third day here that I called to verify that I was enrolled in my classes. The response to this question was one that most third parties I am sure would find amusing. I was told that not only was I not enrolled in any of my classes, but that all the classes I had intended to take were not available. This was a lovely blow to my psyche after I had spent two months in the States getting all my classes approved. I was a little more than bitter about this point. I would like to apologize to all those that have had to hear my rants on the subject. But that day was not without its positive points, for that was the day that I attended my first village party. Nothing is as good at righting the circadian rhythm as attending a uni party. {uni noun: - contraction of university. US = college}
The Australians have a peculiar manner of mocking stenotypes about themselves and then drinking XXXX and playing “We Come from the Land Down Under” at parties. It was at this party that us international students started to comingle. I met up again with George from France. I also met Sheida from Sweden, Charlotte from France, and Georg from Austria.
This party was a major learning experience for me. I learned that Australian take a perverted pleasure in taking the piss out of Americans, though in all fairness they will take the piss out of damn near anything. I also learned that despite all I had been told at home; most young Australians claim a loathing for America. The majority of this is all talk (I assume). But to make this quickly digressing story short; this party corrected my sleeping patterns and introduced me to many new and unique individuals.
One last note about the party; I feel it urgent to relate this anecdote before I move on. If you find yourself in Australia and someone starts talking about drop bears it would not be impolite of you to raise your longest finger to them. I was having a serious conversation with an Aussie girl about venomous creatures to stay away from. She casually slipped in “Drop Bears” and then went online to show us that they exist. I had heard the name before and bought the story hook line and sinker. This was of great amusement to the Aussies around me. This same person also dropped casually in a conversation that she was an escort, and without missing a beat went on to talk about her day. Australians have a vicious sense of humor.
The next day was a start of a death march of night clubs that for some lasted eight days. I personally only spent four days invested in such enterprises. On the first night we started at a Thai restaurant with rather slow service and overpriced food. From there we made our way to the Deen. This was rather uneventful except for the fact the girls in our group discovered Australian boys.
The next day was marked by orientation and more clubbing. The orientation was dull but had free food so I find it hard to complain too much.
A few words on clubbing: I personally find clubbing to be only mildly amusing. I am often struck by the fact that if these people were to dance the way they were at home in front of a mirror they would be deemed pathetic, but because everyone does not know how to keep a rhythm in a large group they are cool. I have also learned from personally experience that you cannot pick up girls by emulating John Travolta’s dance moves from Pulp Fiction.
It was at this night of clubbing that I made my singing debut. The Deen had a decent cover band that started going into “Blister in the Sun” by Violent Femme. The singer asked if anyone in the audience knew the song. I rushed to the stage, he put the mic to my face, and I belted out the song in one long scream. I believe that the singer’s reaction to this was to the affect of “get this guy some marijuana.” {a note to my loving family: have not dabbled in any drugs and am still a straight edge}
It could seem at his point in my post that I have devoted my last two week entirely to hedonism. This is not true. Everything shuts down in the area ridiculously early. This leaves me only a short window in the day to get all my paperwork done for school, and to run errands. I have been filling that window fully. After six p.m. the only things open are the Night Clubs in Perth. So it is a logical step for me to go there, rather than sit in my room being bored to tears.
That weekend I travelled with my group to downtown Perth. Perth is a very odd city. It is surrounded by nothing, vast vistas of rural countryside. Yet for some reason, the developers of the city decided to emulate the styles of other cities and make all the buildings crammed next to each other. This being said the city is very beautiful and does an excellent job contrasting the urban areas with parks and an unblemished waterside. The buildings are an odd mix of Victorian England and post modern architecture. The street are filled with a plethora of street performers including a mime. While there I went to the local grocery store to buy fixings for pizza. An odd quality of Aussie grocery stores is that they are located in malls. I made a tactical error whilst gathering ingredients. I forgot that Aussies call catsup, tomato sauce. This led to me make my first ever catsup pizza.
On Monday I bought a ticket for Esperance to visit my friends the Caulfields. I left Tuesday for a ten hour trip. The bus service played several films that made me want to shoot myself (Hallmark Hall of Fame, PS I Love You etc.). On the trip I was able to witness firsthand the shear emptiness of the area surrounding Perth firsthand. It is difficult for a person from America to rationalize just how large an open area this is. I had always been keen to gloat of my days when it took two hours to get to the nearest city. This is a laughably small amount of time compared to what rural Australians must travel. I arrived at Esperance at six pm. I was greeted by my friend Frances who took me to her house where I met her father Steve, mother Pam, and brother Stuart. The Caulfields seemed to see it as their duty to act as my surrogate family and to have me experience as much Australian culture as was possible in three days. I was given quite the rundown of common Aussie terminology and media. For instance Chooks= chickens, benches= counters, no one says restrooms or bathrooms, yobbo= idiot, yute= pickup truck, and many more. I also watched the Australian equivalent to French and Saunders, Kath and Kim.
Frances took me to the beaches of Esperance. She had always told me that they are the best in Australia and I have to admit that I always thought that this was a biased opinion. I was wrong. I did not believe that beaches of this nature existed anymore. Esperance is the most beautiful town I have ever been to. The beaches have crystal clear water that, even when freezing, cold feels pleasant. The beaches are unblemished by litter, and most of them are studded my jaw dropping rockscapes. Tiny crabs live in-between these rocks. Frances and I traversed many a sheer rock face.
The writer Bill Bryson was one hundred percent accurate when he said that the majority of Australia is stuck in the Midwestern America of the nineteen fifties. I felt immediately at home in Esperance, having been raised in the small town of Pigeon Michigan. Yet Esperance seems to posses that cheery self contained happiness of prosperity that I had only seen in pictures of Huron County’s past. But take that image and superimpose it onto an image of a utopian beachside. The children of the town even take surfing as a class at school. Another interesting element of the area is that the youths of the can be quite prosperous without going to university. There are so many high paying jobs available in the mining industry that many the young people go off for apprenticeships. And no one in the area works in the hospitality industry, meaning that much of that sector has been taken by immigrants.
I made appoint while there of having Frances take me to their town museum to see Sky Lab. This is the space station made famous for crashing into Esperance in the nineteen seventies. This museum reminded me of Pigeon’s museum. It was a hodge podge of random miscellanea that appeared to have once been the contents of some old lady’s attic. This does not in any way mean that I found it boring, quite the opposite. But it did seem as though the only element that all the part of the museum had in common was age.
Frances took me to her grandparents’ house for tea on my last day. Her grandparents were very amiable and asked me many questions pertaining to my nationality. Her grandfather posses an extensive collection of aboriginal artifacts that line on of their walls. One of the items (a bulbous stick) was described to me as an item of the feminine persuasion. In their backyard her grandparents keep birds ranging from magpies to chooks (chickens).
Later that day Frances took me to the local golf course but not for the normal purpose. We were on the hunt for kangaroos. We came across a family of roos that did not seem at all intimidated by our presence, though I did get the feeling that they were slightly annoyed.
I ended my last day in Esperance with surfing. Both Stuart and Steve are accomplished surfers and they took me out to show me the ropes. While I do not believe that I did an exceptional job, Steve seemed to think I was pretty good for a first timer. I did manager to stand up several times, of which I am very proud. Surfing is far more exhausting than it looks and for the rest of the evening my arms were useless. The next morning we left at five in the morning and arrived back in Perth at one pm. While in Esperance I gained a slight cold that left my voice gravelly.
That night some friends of mine invited me to go to a posh club with them. I forgot that when at clubs the only means of communication if screaming at the tops of your lungs. I had a very interesting experience of quite literally feeling myself lose my voice. As I am typing this post I am incapable of communicated above a horse whisper.
That rather nicely ends my story of my first two weeks here. More posts will be on their way as I find time to write them.
Yours truly,
Ryan Messer
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
The Story So Far...
I do not know how to start this post because there is so much to write about. Australia is a really cool place. While I have not had a chance to do any major sightseeing as of yet, the little I have seen has been beautiful.
Ah, I know how to start this post. Let us go back to New Jersey and my constantly exhilarating trip here.
I arrived in New Jersey on Friday evening. I stayed the night at a Marriott but only managed to sleep for about two hours and then had to awake at four thirty in the morning. I arrived at Newark only to find that my flight had been canceled. British Airways loaded us all up on a bus and shuttled us off to JKF in New York. It took us an hour to get there. At the check-in the staff did not believe that I had a visa and sent me several wrong places leading me to where I started and them finally accepting my electronic visa. They then informed me that they could not check in my rather large bag that I had crammed all my worldly belongings into. Their reasoning for this was as follows; “sorry your flight in Heathrow is to close in time to your landing time. There is no way we can transfer your luggage over in time. You will have to take it on the flight.”
This left me rather frustrated. For you see I was already carrying a large backpack that (while be impressively full of nifty little features) had a tendency to dig into my shoulders. I also had my laptop case that, when hung around my neck, would dig into my spine. I had all my identification around my neck as well as my head phones. And I had a phanny pack on. So left me with a large (and in the circumstances unwieldy) bag on top of everything that I still had to get through security.
“Well,” I asked the check in clerk “how am I to fit this on the plane.” There rather creative solution was to block off three seat s for me and telling me to buckle the bag in. The process of blocking the seats took another twenty minutes. So after surviving security and getting to the terminal dead last after having got to the check in first I made my way into the plane. I will have to admit that I looked rather silly now carrying everything, but I kept my chin up and acted as though this was the way all world travelers did it.
This leads us to the flight attendant with the attitude. I had placed my bag across my neighboring seats as directed only to be asked by a flight attendant “sir did you pay for these two seats?” This was asked in that smarmy manner of the petty tyrant who takes a perverted pleasure in catching people doing something wrong. I explained to her my predicament. I she said she would go check with check in. This was said in the manner of one who is talking to a liar. When she came back she informed me that while the airline had blocked off the seats for me they never told me to put my bag there. I told her “yes they did.” To which she replied “no they didn’t.” I was curious why, through her rational, the airline would give me an entire row for no apparent reason. But I ignored this fact and agreed to cram the bad in the over head (surprisingly it fit). And then had to listen to the flight attendant come by every couple minutes to re-explain to me why she had to put my luggage in the overhead.
The flight itself was rather pleasant and I was able to relax a little bit. After seven hours the plane landed in Heathrow. Heathrow is the English’s punishment for tourists. I had to lug the bags from one side of the airport all the way to the other side. To those of you who do not know, Heathrow is a big airport. It is not one self contained building, but rather a series of separated buildings. You need to take escalators shuttles and busses just to get from gate five to gate four. I then had to make my way to security again and explain to them why I was breaking several European flight laws by trying to bring my all this luggage on the plane.
But I survived Heathrow. And luckily they finely took my luggage from, relieving me of a cumbersome burden. my flight was twelve hours long. I spent the time watching films and listing to audio books. I got to see Afghanistan from my window at one point, which I found intriguing.
Singapore was a completely different experience as it comes to airports. Their airport has security at each individual terminal rather than one central security point. This means that you can walk about the airport unaccosted until you are ready to get on your plane. They also had several free lounges placed throughout and computers with free internet.
From there I took a five hour flight to Perth. It took about an hour and a half to get through customs. The Australian government is really terrified of anything that could remotely harm their environment entering the country. From there I was picked up (along with three other students) and taken to a youth hostel. I arrived at the youth hostel at three in the morning and woke around seven to be picked up for school. We were met by a driver who took us to the wrong campus. He then drove us back to the youth hostel leaving us there for half an hour as we waited to be picked up by a competent driver.
Two other students were with me at this point; Eddie, a student from Hong Kong, and George, a Brit who has lived in France since the age of six and considers himself French. We were taken to the student village, where I was taken to the wrong room. I was not told I was in the wrong room however until I had half way completed unpacking. I finally settled into my room I comatosed for eight hours. I woke at eight pm. I started walking on campus looking for food. I randomly met a guy from Zimbabwe who took me to a Red Rooster. He was very helpful and showed me how to navigate the bus system. At red rooster I discovered that what Aussies call lemonade is actual Sprite.
That is the story of my trip and first day in Perth. Next time you will hear what happens when two Swedes, a German, an Austrian, two French students, a Mexican, and an American travel to downtown Perth.
Ah, I know how to start this post. Let us go back to New Jersey and my constantly exhilarating trip here.
I arrived in New Jersey on Friday evening. I stayed the night at a Marriott but only managed to sleep for about two hours and then had to awake at four thirty in the morning. I arrived at Newark only to find that my flight had been canceled. British Airways loaded us all up on a bus and shuttled us off to JKF in New York. It took us an hour to get there. At the check-in the staff did not believe that I had a visa and sent me several wrong places leading me to where I started and them finally accepting my electronic visa. They then informed me that they could not check in my rather large bag that I had crammed all my worldly belongings into. Their reasoning for this was as follows; “sorry your flight in Heathrow is to close in time to your landing time. There is no way we can transfer your luggage over in time. You will have to take it on the flight.”
This left me rather frustrated. For you see I was already carrying a large backpack that (while be impressively full of nifty little features) had a tendency to dig into my shoulders. I also had my laptop case that, when hung around my neck, would dig into my spine. I had all my identification around my neck as well as my head phones. And I had a phanny pack on. So left me with a large (and in the circumstances unwieldy) bag on top of everything that I still had to get through security.
“Well,” I asked the check in clerk “how am I to fit this on the plane.” There rather creative solution was to block off three seat s for me and telling me to buckle the bag in. The process of blocking the seats took another twenty minutes. So after surviving security and getting to the terminal dead last after having got to the check in first I made my way into the plane. I will have to admit that I looked rather silly now carrying everything, but I kept my chin up and acted as though this was the way all world travelers did it.
This leads us to the flight attendant with the attitude. I had placed my bag across my neighboring seats as directed only to be asked by a flight attendant “sir did you pay for these two seats?” This was asked in that smarmy manner of the petty tyrant who takes a perverted pleasure in catching people doing something wrong. I explained to her my predicament. I she said she would go check with check in. This was said in the manner of one who is talking to a liar. When she came back she informed me that while the airline had blocked off the seats for me they never told me to put my bag there. I told her “yes they did.” To which she replied “no they didn’t.” I was curious why, through her rational, the airline would give me an entire row for no apparent reason. But I ignored this fact and agreed to cram the bad in the over head (surprisingly it fit). And then had to listen to the flight attendant come by every couple minutes to re-explain to me why she had to put my luggage in the overhead.
The flight itself was rather pleasant and I was able to relax a little bit. After seven hours the plane landed in Heathrow. Heathrow is the English’s punishment for tourists. I had to lug the bags from one side of the airport all the way to the other side. To those of you who do not know, Heathrow is a big airport. It is not one self contained building, but rather a series of separated buildings. You need to take escalators shuttles and busses just to get from gate five to gate four. I then had to make my way to security again and explain to them why I was breaking several European flight laws by trying to bring my all this luggage on the plane.
But I survived Heathrow. And luckily they finely took my luggage from, relieving me of a cumbersome burden. my flight was twelve hours long. I spent the time watching films and listing to audio books. I got to see Afghanistan from my window at one point, which I found intriguing.
Singapore was a completely different experience as it comes to airports. Their airport has security at each individual terminal rather than one central security point. This means that you can walk about the airport unaccosted until you are ready to get on your plane. They also had several free lounges placed throughout and computers with free internet.
From there I took a five hour flight to Perth. It took about an hour and a half to get through customs. The Australian government is really terrified of anything that could remotely harm their environment entering the country. From there I was picked up (along with three other students) and taken to a youth hostel. I arrived at the youth hostel at three in the morning and woke around seven to be picked up for school. We were met by a driver who took us to the wrong campus. He then drove us back to the youth hostel leaving us there for half an hour as we waited to be picked up by a competent driver.
Two other students were with me at this point; Eddie, a student from Hong Kong, and George, a Brit who has lived in France since the age of six and considers himself French. We were taken to the student village, where I was taken to the wrong room. I was not told I was in the wrong room however until I had half way completed unpacking. I finally settled into my room I comatosed for eight hours. I woke at eight pm. I started walking on campus looking for food. I randomly met a guy from Zimbabwe who took me to a Red Rooster. He was very helpful and showed me how to navigate the bus system. At red rooster I discovered that what Aussies call lemonade is actual Sprite.
That is the story of my trip and first day in Perth. Next time you will hear what happens when two Swedes, a German, an Austrian, two French students, a Mexican, and an American travel to downtown Perth.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I am ALIVE!
Hey everyone. I just got off a 13 hour plane ride after a 7 hour plane ride. I think I am a little drunk on my own exhustion right now. I am at the singapore airport and am waiting for my flight to board. More posts to come...
Friday, July 11, 2008
Au revoir
To whom it may concern,
Today I am leaving for Perth Australia. I will leave at 6:15 pm today and arrive on the 14'th at midnight. It is going to be a long and adventurous trip to say the least. I get to spend 11 hours in the barren and war torn country of New Ark, New Jersey. I have a 3 hour flight followed by a 7 hour flight followed by a 12 hour flight followed by a 9 hour flight. These flights will take me to New Jersey, the UK, Singapore, and Perth respectively.
For those of you who don't know I am going to Perth to study abroad. I use the excuse that I am an international business student and part of the degree calls for study abroad as my excuse. In all honesty I have had a profound fascination with Australia since I was ten. The lengths to which I am gun-ho on going to Australia led me to making the University of South Florida call Australia a part of Europe so that I could use it in my degree.
You might ask "why Perth Australia?" There are several reasons for this. Firstly, I am a contrarian by nature, and most everyone who goes to Australia wants to go to Sydney. Secondly, I have had a pen pal in Perth since I was 11. I think it helps knowing someone when you are a stranger in a strange land. This also gives me a chance to finely meet my pen pal in person. Thirdly, Perth just looks like one cool and froody place, you know?
When I arrive in Perth I will be picked up by a university bus service that will drop me off at a youth hostel for the night. In the morning I am going to have to catch a train to Joondalup where my dormitory is located. It is my firm goal to then go into a coma for 12 hours.
Final words:
To everyone in the states who is excited about "The Dark Knight" coming out, hahaha it comes out two days earlier in Australia.
I will be back around the time of Thanksgiving.
Yours truly,
Ryan Messer
Today I am leaving for Perth Australia. I will leave at 6:15 pm today and arrive on the 14'th at midnight. It is going to be a long and adventurous trip to say the least. I get to spend 11 hours in the barren and war torn country of New Ark, New Jersey. I have a 3 hour flight followed by a 7 hour flight followed by a 12 hour flight followed by a 9 hour flight. These flights will take me to New Jersey, the UK, Singapore, and Perth respectively.
For those of you who don't know I am going to Perth to study abroad. I use the excuse that I am an international business student and part of the degree calls for study abroad as my excuse. In all honesty I have had a profound fascination with Australia since I was ten. The lengths to which I am gun-ho on going to Australia led me to making the University of South Florida call Australia a part of Europe so that I could use it in my degree.
You might ask "why Perth Australia?" There are several reasons for this. Firstly, I am a contrarian by nature, and most everyone who goes to Australia wants to go to Sydney. Secondly, I have had a pen pal in Perth since I was 11. I think it helps knowing someone when you are a stranger in a strange land. This also gives me a chance to finely meet my pen pal in person. Thirdly, Perth just looks like one cool and froody place, you know?
When I arrive in Perth I will be picked up by a university bus service that will drop me off at a youth hostel for the night. In the morning I am going to have to catch a train to Joondalup where my dormitory is located. It is my firm goal to then go into a coma for 12 hours.
Final words:
To everyone in the states who is excited about "The Dark Knight" coming out, hahaha it comes out two days earlier in Australia.
I will be back around the time of Thanksgiving.
Yours truly,
Ryan Messer
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