Serendipity

2003-11-30T01:16:00.000+10:00

Rise above the Daily Dark
A stranger walks into the room and asks you for your earliest memory of a book…..
This is how the creative writing workshop – a free workshop conducted by the local council and presented by a local author, Christopher Cyrill, started. I was the youngest person at the workshop and was interested to see people of different cultures and backgrounds present in the classroom. We were all united by one thing – an interest in writing or at least a curiosity in the process.

During the 4 and ½ hours, we dug deep into our memories to pull out images and stories that were uniquely ours.

I struggled with the exercise. I think from a very young age, I was captivated by books. I remember being a library assistant in primary school and having a very good relationship with the librarian, Mrs Collins. I was definitely a bookworm. I also remember the excitement of starting a new book, not being able to wait to get home to start a new adventure – albeit in my mind. I also remember using my pocket money to buy ‘mini-books’ from the newsagent and visiting the local library often with my friend, Dinh, who was also an avid reader. I can’t pinpoint my first book that I ever read on my own. I suspect it would have been a fairytale or a Dr Seuss book. My favourite books were Secret Garden and a book about a little boy growing up in a foster home in England. I can’t remember the title, but I remember the foster father in the book was called Mr Tom. In Year 6, I was introduced to Daphne Du Maurier’s books – ghost stories and mysteries. I was captivated by Rebecca and other characters. I also started reading Virgina Andrews and learnt about the dark secrets of dysfunctional families. I enjoyed reading for reading’s sake.

However high school came and books were read for analysis and for homework. Although some of the books on the book list were brilliant (for example, To Kill a Mockingbird), it took the fun out of reading. Reading literature was associated with school work – it was no longer a past time.

University made it worse. There was so much to read for each semester. Speed reading was the way to get through university and I felt that there was no time to get into the details.

Now I want to rediscover the joys of reading. The workshop today certainly opened my eyes to the art of writing. Every good piece of writing is deliberately composed, from the name of the character, to the placement of a word on a page and even the use of grammer. In understanding the dedication and hard work that goes into constructing a good piece of work, I become more appreciative and more aware of the details of the writing. To go beyond reading the story and the characters and to see how the whole process evolves, would certainly be a satisfying experience.

I guess that is why classics can be read over and over again, each time with a new and deeper understanding and insight.

We studied several opening passages from various books. Although some were very brief (about 50 words), there were many insights and references that could be drawn from those words. One of the passages that really caught my attention was from Carson McCuller’s “The Heart is a Lonely Hunter”.

I’ve subsequently borrowed the book and have started reading it. McCuller’s writes in a very direct and simple way, yet her imagery is very poetic and engrossing.

A book can really change a person’s life….

2003-10-29T00:59:00.000+10:00

Went swimming today at Ashfield Pools. It’s been a LONG time since I’ve done any swimming and it was good to get back into the water. Thankfully, Ashfield Pools is undergoing a facelift. The pool water no longer feels like a chemical dump and the ladies toilets are half-decent.

I really love swimming. Once I get into my ‘zone’, I can just keep going. It’s really peaceful under the water. All you can hear is the lapping of the water and your own heartbeat.

I’ve come to a few conclusions about life, after my adventures in Armenia.

Firstly, we are not in control of our lives. We can try really hard to get something, but God always has the final word. All I can say is that Armenia wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps God has another plan for me.

Secondly, we only cause ourselves unhappiness when we try to hold on to wants and desires. We should just appreciate what we have and not try to hold on. Letting go is true freedom. I think this is what Buddha discovered.

2003-10-17T07:31:00.000+10:00

2 October 2003, Yerevan, ARMENIA
The worst thing about being unemployed, other than not getting any income is not having anything to do.

--

1 October 2003, Yerevan, ARMENIA

Lost in Yerevan

It’s been exactly 20 days since I’ve been in Armenia. Although I haven’t exhausted all the touristic activities, I am getting sick of being on holiday. We always want what we don’t have. When I’m at work, I’m dying to go on a holiday. Now that I’m on a holiday, I can’t wait to start working.

Had an early start today at 9.30am. This is early compared to my usual 10.30am. Had my usual fried egg, tomato, herbs and bread. It’s the easiest thing to make and usually at this time of the day, I’m lacking inspiration for anything else. I was anxious to hear about the progress of the Romanian job. We checked Megan’s email and there was nothing from Romania although there was an email from Russia regarding a position with one of the largest truck companies in Russia. They were looking for a Chinese speaking person as they were interested in breaking into the China market. The position was in a part of Russia that I’d never heard of…..something Chelny (not Chechyna). We tried to look it up on a map but the connection was so slow that we didn’t get very far.

It was about midday by the time I left the apartment. My mission was to go to the Romanian embassy. I only had an hour as they only open on Monday, Wednesday and Friday between 11 and 1pm (talk about cushy). I didn’t get very far before I realized that I’d left my map at home. I only had the name of the street and some vague notion of where it was. After 20 minutes of walking in the direction of my instinct I realized that I had to ask someone for directions. This is not an easy thing to do as my Armenian is not exactly conversational (or anything, for that matter). So I walked into a respectable looking bank and asked the receptionist if she spoke English. Luckily she did, but she had no idea where Sepouh St was. I gave her a phone number to call and ask for directions. She not only asked for directions but requested more information for me. Now that’s service. I finally found a use for banks. Only problem was that she gave me a different address and pointed me towards the direction of home. Hmmmm it was evident that I was not going to find this Romanian embassy for the third time.

I trudged back home defeated. Lacking motivation to do anything constructive, I decided to go to the Sarian Musuem. According to the Lonely Planet, Sarian is one of the most famous Armenian artists. Sarian Museum is located on Sarian Street. It looked easy enough to get to. Catch a metro to Marshal Baghramian station , walk through the park down Proshian St and Sarian St should be parallel. Of course it was not easy. I’d located Proshian St (even found a Thai restaurant!!!) but could not find a road that lead to Sarian St. So I located a landmark on the map. In this case it was a church and I proceeded to walk around it. I must have had a lost look on my face as a local approached me and started speaking in Armenian. All I could manage was “Sarian St” with a fake Armenian accent and a shrug of the shoulders. I think my body language is of such high standard that I would be champion at the toughest charades game.

Anyway, the local lady summoned her son to escort me to Sarian St. The tyke was only about 7 or 8 and he led me happily down some stairs, through some apartment blocks and onto Sarian St. That was definitely NOT on the map.

On the way I managed to practice my Lonely Planet Armenian….
“Inch e dzer anun?” (What’s your name?) I’m sure my pronounciation was wrong coz he just smiled back. I tried again. “Im anun’ Connie” (My name is Connie). This time communication was successful as he replied with something that sounded like Samoan…
Then he said something I interpreted as “We’re nearly there” but only because he stopped walking shortly thereafter. At that point I wished I’d brought some Aussie souvenirs to give him. A handshake and smile had to suffice for now.

Sarian St. Next challenge was to find number three. Of course there are hardly any numbers on the building. Again I had to rely on my instinct. I’ve come to realize that I have no instinct for Armenian museums or embassies. Again I walked in the wrong direction, ending up on Mashtots Ave. Another few friendly locals later, I arrived at the museum but ALAS, it was closed. Cie la vie! At least I saw some interesting sites, including a sleeping monkey in a cage on the side of a busy road. WTF?!

I decided I had enough of being lost and walked decisively towards my favourite kebab place. Kebabs are actually skewers of lamb wrapped in lavash and veggies. What I normally call a kebab is actually called shawerma. I know the routine there and can confidently use my body language to indicate that I want the works and take away. Lots of pointing action involved.

After the feed it was time to go home……another unproductive day!

--

28 September 2003

It’s interesting how easily we take things for granted. Today the electricity came back on. I was so happy not to have to bath, pee and cook in candlelight again. Though I was discussing with Bruno that if I had to choose between electricity and water, I would chose to lose electricity. To prove my point, we didn’t have water for a few hours the next day.
I was told that it was only recently that water was provided 24h. Prior to that it was only available for a few hours in the morning. For that reason, the bathtub is always filled with water.

I will never take such services for granted again. Here, when people look for an apartment they ask for 24h water and hot water. Living without such amenities was an impossibility for me. In fact, this is how many people live. If you had to choose between food, power and 24h water it is clear which one takes the highest priority.

I was told that during Soviet times, all amenities were present. There was even central heating but after the collapse, everything stopped working. Marianna told me that she remembers studying by candlelight for an exam and sleeping in all her clothes because of the cold. Such experiences are so far from my own and I really admire the tenacity of the Armenians.

--

13 September 2003, Yerevan, ARMENIA

I was woken up by Bruno at 10am as he busily prepared for his camping trip to Lake Sevan. I had brunch with Marianna at a nearby café. I realized that the Armenians love al fresco dining. There are numerous cafes doted along the streets in the city center where one can have a Turkish coffee, listen to music and watch the mad marshutkas. These marshutkas have no set drop-off points and can randomly stop to either pick up a passenger or drop one off.

As Marianna had a meeting today, she left me to look around at Vernissage markets. This is the only ‘touristic’ type of market as there were rows of Armenian artifacts, rugs, wooden carvings of churches, with most prices quoted in USD. It was a place to spend money – but I had none of that and I was afraid of getting ripped off.

Marianna met up with me after her meeting and we went to the Cascade Monument – a giant flight of concrete stairs separated by colourful beds, leading up to a tall pillar with a gold leaf. This monument was originally built in 1970 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Soviet power in Armenia. Thankfully the escalators were working and we took these up to the top. After the Soviet Union collapse, this monument was left in disrepair. It was only recently that a private investor, an American-Armenian provided funds for the maintenance of this complex. There are plans to build a cinema and shopping complex in the now empty building. I learnt that most (if not all) of the public infrastructure improvements, including the roads which are constantly being repaired, are being funded by the Armenian Diaspora. One famous philanthropist is an American – Armenian who is the director of MGM Studios. Although some of the money seems to be a waste as in the case of a $USD 1 million statue of a cat in front of the cascade.

One way to spot an Armenian is to see if their surname ends in ‘ian’ or ‘yan’. In Armenian ‘yan’ means ‘tribe’. If I was Armenian, my surname would be ‘Ho-yan’

--

12 September 2003, Yerevan, ARMENIA

Here I am in Yerevan. A place I’d only recently learnt about. I was full of trepidation as the plane flew over the dim lights of the city. There were so many question marks hanging over this destination. What do the people look like? What do they eat? Is there any violence? Will I get a job? How long will I be here?

Of course I had done some research before leaving home, but I still had to see for myself. I also had my Lonely Planet guide with me, which I’ve subsequently found to contain many untruths (the tap water is not only drinkable but tasty).

There was a long queue at the boarding gates and I was curious to learn about my fellow passengers. Some were speaking in an unfamiliar language which I presumed to be Armenian and others in English (mostly with a North American accent). They were obviously part of some mature age tour group or contingent as they all seemed to be familiar with each other. I was the ONLY asian looking person on the plane. It was a first-time experience for me. I find it interesting that while we try to be different we are always looking for something familiar. (When I say ‘we’, I actually mean ‘me’)

I had a window seat next to a very friendly Canadian-Armenian. She was as curious about me as I was about Armenia. I learnt from her that everyone on the plane was a citizen of another country but of Armenian origin. They were all heading to Armenia for a diaspora school reunion. I had read about the Armenian Diaspora, a legacy of Armenia’s tragic past. Mass migrations of people migrated during the Turkish Regime and also during the Soviet collapse. Whilst there are about 3.5 million Armenians living in Armenia, there are about 10 million living abroad. Armenians are spread out all over the globe, from Europe to South America and Australia. The largest Armenia Diaspora community is in LA where some streets are in Armenian. I’ve also read that there are some 30,000 Armenians in NSW (although I have not met any until very recently).

This woman’s family migrated to Egypt after the Genocide. She studied at an Armenian school in Egypt and migrated to Canada upon graduation. It was also her first time to Armenia but she was already familiar with the culture and had many Armenian contacts.
She was more than happy to provide me some tips about Armenia and the culture. Although some of the advice was correct, some of it was also incorrect. For example, she told me that visa office at the airport would only be open at 9am. As our flight was to arrive in Yerevan at 4am, it would mean waiting in the airport for 5 hours. Of course, this was not the case as all flights flying into Yerevan arrived at this time. Though she was correct in saying that the airport would be chaos. She also told me to never drink from the tap, and to be aware of the mafia. I enjoy the tap water here and as for the mafia….a lot of the guys look shady to me but I generally keep a low profile.

We arrived in Yerevan and were led to the main hall where the officials sat in makeshift boxes. The boxes were randomly labeled “Visa application”, “Currency exchange”, “Immigration”. The infrastructure of the airport was in poor shape and it hit me that I was in Armenia. After the administration I was glad to see a girl holding a sign in the arrival hall. Marianna and Lilit were here to greet me. They helped me with my luggage and took me to a taxi across the road. Everything felt so surreal. Who were these girls? Where am I going? Why does everything look so strange? In fact it was dark everywhere and there was really not much to see.

We got into a very beaten-up car but not before waking up the taxi driver. He struggled with my suitcase and we were off to the apartment. On the way Marianna told me about the WB situation and what the plans were. I was surprised that her English was excellent. She was also surprised that she could understand me (apparently I have not been inflicted with the ocker accent).

We stopped about 15 minutes later at a block of apartments. From the ground I could see a dimly lit window displaying a faint Brazilian flag. This was obviously Bruno’s – the trainee from Brazil. I was looking for some light to indicate an entrance when Marianna walked into a mouth of darkness. Only using my hearing, we struggled with my oversize suitcase, up some invisible steps when I heard a key unlock a door. A dim light emanated from the door and we were at the apartment. Marianna lead me to a room to the right. “This is your room, do you like it”, she said. My eyes were still adjusting to the light and all I could see was some yellowing wallpaper and a couch…. “it’s ok” was all I could manage. Marianna must have been disappointed because she said “it’s not fancy but we live in a poor country”. Yes, I’m in Armenia – I kept having to remind myself.

I was then introduced to Bruno – a big curly-haired Brazilian who had just woken up and was still in his Scooby-doo boxers. “Welcome to Armenia”, he said in a latin-american accent. I could only manage a polite ‘thank you’ as I was still in a daze after very little sleep and concern about the job situation. Meanwhile Lilit proceeded to prepare breakfast while we exchanged pleasantries. Breakfast was ready and the nice china was laid out. I had read that the Armenians are extremely hospitable and I realized that I was given the royal treatment. Dishes of different types of bread – lavash, round bread, flat bread, as well as some yoghurt thing and a plate of peas and eggs. I was told that bread to the Armenians is like rice to the Chinese. The Armenians love their bread. Unfortunately I didn’t feel like eating as it was 6am and I was still full from the previous meal. As I was not exhausted we decided to walk Lilit to work.

The day had just started and the street peddlers were setting up their stalls. It reminded me of China – the street stalls, the broken roads and feeling of disorderliness. Other than the feeling, there was nothing familiar. The signs were in some weird squiggly characters. The people looked hostile and spoke in a very strange language. These were my initial reactions.

We took the metro to the next stop. The escalator down to the metro was a long ride into a cool and almost empty platform with marble columns. Everything was dark and I could imagine that in better times the station would have been quite grand. We walked along the embassy street (as most of the foreign embassies are located here) and also the site of the President’s office (a huge imposing building in an expansive unkept garden).

I only remember walking everywhere that day. Lots of broken roads and wide streets. After a few hours of walking, I was exhausted and we decided to go home. Marianna stopped a bus that looked like it was on the way to the scrap heap. I was duly introduced to the Armenian ‘public transport’ system. These mini-buses were called marshutkas and they were everywhere. They brought in good income for the drivers, who it appeared, were responsible for the maintenance (or lack of) of the vehicles. As this marshutka was packed, I had to sit on the area separating the driver and passenger seat. It was an amusing ride as I wondered when the bus would break down. The meters were not working and there were wires hanging out in different places. The driver was trying very hard to keep the bus going.

Back at the apartment, I was introduced to a different way of showering. An electrical rod, some buckets and lots of splashing and patience later, I felt clean and ready for bed.

In the evening, we went to a café to listen to some live jazz. The modern café came with it’s own man-made lake and I almost felt like I was in Darling Harbour. The music was fantastic and I was pleasantly surprised. I also had my first taste of Armenian beer. There were several to choose from – Kotayk, Killika and Erebuni. They were not unpleasant although I still prefer spirits over beer.

2003-09-25T01:10:00.000+10:00

10-11 September 2003, Vienna, AUSTRIA

9 September 2003, Innsbruck, AUSTRIA

7–8 September 2003, Salzburg, AUSTRIA

Trains are THE way to travel around Europe. Travelling is made even more convenient with luggage lockers at the station. We were in Salzburg, where Sound of Music was filmed and Mozart was born. Although most Austrians (well at least 2 that we’d spoken to) had never seen Sound of Music.

2003-09-17T07:12:00.000+10:00

5-6 September 2003, Vienna, AUSTRIA
Finally arrived in Vienna after a 14 hour flight. Couldn't dig into the continental breakfast but was glad that I'd left the chaos of Asia. It was comforting to see the orderly green patches of farmland as we taxied into Vienna Airport. The airport was a lot smaller than I'd imagined and as it was still early in the morning, the immigration officials were still walking up and the customs officials were nowhere to be seen. Apparently this is a common feature in European airports, with the exception of UK (so I've heard). I walked through some sliding doors and was there in front of me was the Pike.....it was so good to see a familiar face!
We took the airport bus to Westbanhoff station, where Pike expertedly navigated his way through the Viennese public transport system and got us safely to the Hotel. It was such a relief not to have to dodge oncoming traffic or piles of rubbish. The streets in Vienna are tres clean. All the buildings look like they've been recently renovated. The weather was warm but not stifling like KL or Saigon. I was one happy chappy.

2003-09-17T07:08:00.000+10:00

2-4 September 2003, KL Malaysia

Back to KL for a couple of days before heading off to Vienna. Everything was as before except that my sis was with me. We decided to catch the airport express into the city. A lesson about asking for information - never trust the first person you ask. The tourist counter advised us that the airport express would cost the same as the taxi. It ended up being half the price - 35 Ringitt plus a few ringitt for a taxi to the hotel. In addition, the express is only 28 minutes away from the airport compared to 40 minutes by taxi.

As soon as we got to the hotel, we made plans to get to the Petronas Towers. Impressive, huge structures rising in front of us. The metal and glass really made the building shine and I could see why this is the pride of the Malaysian people.

The next day, I decided to do a walking tour of the city. Map in hand, I circumnavigated the streets, ducked the traffic and even used the excellent metro network. There are 3 different companies operating different transport lines. This makes it a bit difficult to transfer between stations but in general the metro network is quite extensive, although the Golden Triangle (shopping and business district) is limited to only taxi or by foot.

I stopped off at the Sultan buildings where the Muslim architecture houses the High Court. However this was not open to the public so I crossed the road to Merdeka Square, where a Malaysian Flag was proudly raised. Malaysia recently celebrated Merdeka Day or Independence Day on 31 August. It was in this Square, about 50 years ago that Malaysia declared independence from Britain. That was the reason for all the Malaysian flags proudly displayed. I didn't know this and thought that Malaysians were extremely patriotic. I could hear people praying in the background as the National Mosque was about a block away. A large percentage of the Malay population are Muslim and there influence is evident in the architecture and practices (for example, all the toilets have a hose that allow people to wash so they can be clean after their business. I'm not exactly sure - but that is my theory)

Then it was off to the Menara Towers, the fourth-highest telecommunications tower in the world. The buildings and the muslim, eastern and western architecture can be seen from these towers. I had a nice hike through the national park before getting to the Menara Towers. From here you can also get a good view of the Petronas Towers as the binoculars are free to use. KL is really tourist-friendly!

It was time for some genuine Malaysian cuisine - Nasi-Lemak!

After that, I had to work it off by participating in the national past-time - shopping. KL is a shopper's haven. There is every type of good available and the shopping malls are massive. Eventhough I did not even go to the major ones at Mega Valley (I think). It was easy to spend every cent in KL. Everything was at least 30% cheaper than home, this ranged from electronics, clothing, footwear....the list goes one.

In the evening I met up with some friends for dinner. As they lived away from the city, I caught a cab. It was unfortunately a private cab and the driver, although convincingly, took a few wrong turns and in the end charged me double. A warning to future travellers to KL! Get a vouchered cab, even if the service is crap - at least you know what you are paying for. Actually we had already agreed on the price but in the end the cab driver said that he had no change, and as I was running late, I let it go.

The next day was another shopping excursion. Although I had about 12 hours to shop, I still ran out of time. I almost missed my flight, having just checked in 35 minutes before boarding! Off to Vienna.....I was glad that I had a window seat where I could see the "City of Light" (which KL is also known).

2003-09-17T06:34:00.000+10:00

29 – 30 August, 1 September
Saigon, Ho Chi Minh City

Memories of Saigon….
Chaotic, polluted, crowded, noisy, Hondas. Delicious cuisine, street food, one-tooth smiles, $1 CDs and DVDs

More photos

Tuesday, 26 – 28 August 2003, Nha Trang, Vietnam

We were awoken up early in the morning and packed into a van heading to Nha Trang, a beach resort about 10 hours away. A sore ass and atrophied muscles were rewarded with the cool sea breeze. Of course, the main beach could not compare to Bondi, but the islands were amazing! See the pictures for yourself.

My favourite memory is going parasailing at one of the resort islands. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera and couldn’t take pictures of the massive wedgy I had. But it was worth it. It was so peaceful, up above in the sky. Floating, like a bird for at least 15 minutes. I was still on a high (literally) when my parachute started falling into the sea. I pulled myself up onto a jet ski and we sped back to shore. All that for only $12! I love Vietnam.

The cruise was only $9 and included stops to various different islands, some crappy food, fruit and entertainment (by the multi-talented skipper and crew).

We stayed at a hotel about 15 minutes walk from the beach. It only cost about $25 for a triple room.

2003-09-01T01:24:00.000+10:00

Xin Chao Vietnam!

It was about 35C and the air was thick with moisture. We were enticed by the sales which were to end in August and went on a shopping spree. After working out our credit cards, we realised that we'd only left 2 hours to get to the airport. It was too late to take the airport express and so we hopped into a taxi. Back to the airport for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

A mere 1.5 hours after boarding the plane in the spacious and modern KL airport, we arrived at HCMC's Tan Son Nhat Airport. It was highly apparent that we'd arrived in a developing country. The airport, a functional building only, was in stark contrast to the ostentatious KL airport. There was a slight hitch at immigration as the official refused to speak to me in English. He pointed to my place of birth - Saigon - and presumed that I could speak vietnamese. I was finally allowed into the country, but not before I was made to feel like a traitor. The scanning machines were so old that we had to manually push our luggage through the conveyer belt.

We were in and out of the airport in 30 minutes...to meet my dad and his friends. It was even hotter in Saigon. Our first stop was at a nearby warcraft museum. Coming to Vietnam, it is impossible not to see the influence of war on the country.

After that we continued to District 11, where we were staying. The thing I loved about this place was that there was a hairdresser across the road. A hairwash, massage, facial, manicure and pedicure – all for $12! Ahh I was on holiday…..

2003-09-01T01:09:00.000+10:00

Kuala Lumpar

Arrived in KL about an hour late due to turbulence in Sydney. KL International Airport of KLIA is massive. It is really modern and apparently supposed to be designed like a spaceship. It was so big that we had to get a monorail for about 3 minutes from the gates to immigration/customs.

Customs consisted of one question, ‘Are you from Sydney?’. I apparently gave the customs official the right answer because I was let through without being strip-searched. The next challenge was to get to the hotel. I had been advised to get a taxi voucher for the government cabs and not to get a private cab. Private cabs are often unmetered and unscrupulous. I totally agree after having had a bad experience (see later). Government cabs are not any better in terms of service. They also are more expensive (if the private cab charges the correct amount). To get a voucher from the airport to the city costs 99 Malaysian Ringgitt or about $50AUD.

Upon exiting the automatic doors I was greeted with the thick, hot air. Selamat dating Malaysia! With my taxi voucher around, I was pointed toward a fleet of cars, all unoccupied as all the drivers were hanging around chatting and smoking. A Malay driver emerged after some confusion and I was on my way to Hotel Federal. The trip was a silent one, as the driver seemed reluctant to make conversation. With only the streetlights to keep me entertained, I quickly dozed off. Some 45 minutes later, I awoke to some bright lights….I had arrived in KL City. My hotel was on Jalan Binkit Bintang, the shopping street. Unfortunately my luggage did not make it and was only standing on its hind legs.

Caught up with my sister, whom I hadn’t seen in 6 months and then dozed off.

2003-09-01T00:56:00.000+10:00

OH JOY. I finally found an internet place with a reasonable connection speed. It's worth sitting through the loud pop Vietnamese music.....

I wrote this on the plane on the 24th August on the way from Sydney to KL.

It's 10pm, we've been flying for about 3.5 hours and only just left the north of Australia, having just flown over the deliciously named Rum Jungle (in NT).
It wasn't apparent at the beginning of the flight whether we were going to get off the air at all. The plane was on the ground for about an hour due to the strong windy conditions. We could only watch out the window at the trees swaying about as if having an epileptic fit and the foam on the water resembling reemerging flocks of snow white pigeons.

Whilst the windy conditions persisted outside, drama was unfolding at Row 27 regarding the allocation of a window seat. For once I was glad that I had forgotten to request a window seat at the check-in. A middle- aged lady was disputing the allocation on her boardng pass. It appeared that she had previously reserved the window seat and was now extremely unimpressed that a long-haired middle-aged tattoed man was sitting in her seat. Two cabin crew members were trying to understand the situation (German is the preferred language on Lauda Air). Whilst this ruckus was going on, I sat innocently in the aisle seat trying to put my trendy knee-high stockings on. I must have looked like a clown with one sock halfway up my leg with my back bent as my enraged fellow passenger hurled complaints at the cabin crew. I was caught between a exasperated flight attendant and a drama queen, with my socks waiting anxiously to be pulled into their rightful position. The crisis was soon resolved when the flight attendant realised that the woman wanted a window seat (it was pretty obvious to me but perhaps they were waiting for her to communicate in German).
Flying Lauda for the first time, it doesn't surprise me that the founder, Nikki Lauda, used to be a formula one world champion. Though I've never been in a racing car before, I can imagine sitting in the passenger's seat right now. Cramped, all controls right in front of me. The trays, for example, only extend half way to your lap (so that you have to carry your plate in your hand or risk bumping into the TV screen when you bring your head down to eat). The footrests are far too high off the ground giving you LESS leg room!

The rest of the flight proceeded without drama and we finally touched down in KL just past midnight.

2003-08-03T21:14:00.000+10:00

Piglet's Big Adventure
I'm heading off for another adventure soon. This time to Yerevan, Armenia. What the ?! Yeah, I can't say that Armenia was always on my to-do list. I only recently discovered that it is a landlocked country between Turkey, Iran, Georgia and Azjerbaijin (I can't say this without moving ALL my facial muscles). My friends and family aren't exactly thrilled and I don't think they'll be stopping by during their holidays. Am I afraid? Very much so. I don't know much about the country (the Sydney Morning Herald should really look into this place). Am I crazy? If you asked my friends and family, they would give a resounding yes in reply. I'm not prone to doing (many) crazy things but I figure that you only live once. The only thing I have to lose is my own fear and preconceptions. I am going there to work on a trade development project. Hopefully it will be the start of a meaningful and satisfying career.

Facts about Armenia
- population 3.4 million with 70% living in urban areas
- gained independence from the Soviet Union on 21 September 1991
- geographically it is surrounded by mountains with the Greater Caucasus Range bordering the south
- it has one of the largest freshwater lakes in the world, Lake Sevan
- Mount Ararat, a sacred mountain now located in Turkey, is mentioned in the Bible in the book of Genesis as the place where Noah's Ark came to rest.
- About 94% of the population are members of the Armenian Apostolic Church
- Armenia has had a tragic past, with various hostile neighbours seeking to invade this strategically located country (it lies on the trade route between the Mediterranean and Asia). There's a large Armenian diaspora around the world due to the genocide around 1915 in which Young Turks of the Ottoman Empire killed approximately 1.5 million Armenians in what is now Turkey.
- Large armenian communities live in Lebanon, France and the USA.

That's all I know at the moment. I'm sure I will find out more when I get there.

2003-07-29T00:59:00.000+10:00

Want What You Have
I've read that aquarians are fencesitters and are always looking out for options. For the most part, this seems to be a fair assessment of my past and present behaviour. When I was working full-time (seems like a long time ago), I fantasised about going back the good 'ole student days of flexible timing (endless lunches and late starts). So I went back to full-time university to do a postgraduate degree. Somehow the romantic notions of carefree student life failed to materialise. Sure, endless hours were spent with classmates, not gossiping or discussing dreams, but labouring over those neverending assignments. Mindnumbing hours of remembering facts and regurgitating information that lecturers wanted to hear, failed to inspire or satisfy my thirst for learning. Instead, I became unmotivated and careless. I know each student is responsible for their own learning, but it is also up to the teacher to inspire and motivate the class. Budget cuts and the need for international student funding has lead to the prevalence of 'drive-by' degrees. Quantity over quality. If anything, my mind has narrowed after doing my postgraduate studies at a seemingly respectable university. I had high expectations of what the degree would do for me. I expected to land a job with an international company in marketing. I expected it to be the same as when I finished my undergraduate degree. When those job offers did not roll in, I started to regret my decision to do my marketing. I felt like I had wasted another year. So I went back to my options and applied for jobs that I had previous experience in. At that point I just wanted any job. Anything that would take the sting out of the rejections I'd received from marketing firms. Two offers came through but now, true to my aquarian trait, I am thinking about whether they are my only options. I had enough difficulty deciding when another opportunity came up. The opportunity to work overseas, albeit for a short period of time. So now I have to make a choice. Do I go with excitement and adventure that is tied to extreme uncertainty OR do I go with safety and security? My heart says to be adventurous - after all, you only live once. A little voice in my head is reminding me of my age and my lack of direction. I grow fearful about the future. What will happen to me if I come back and am unable to find a job that I want? Am I condemned to a life of mindless monotony? Of never achieving my potential? Of never being satisfied?
Maybe being satisfied is a state of mind. I have been thinking that a 9 to 5 job is not necessarily boring. I could get used to it. At least I would have regular income and be building a skill. I never really had a career plan - even when I started my Masters. In retrospect everything looks clearer....but for now I am still trying to understand why I'm here. Why I am not using my skills to make the world a better place. Why I never seem to commit to one thing. I can't blame my starsign, but I can't think of anything else.

2003-06-21T15:42:00.000+10:00

The paradox of modern life. Is choice really freedom? What if you don't want to choose but want it all? Can we have it all and be happy? The author of this article doesn't think so. In the fast-paced, stressful lives of young Australian woman the only choice is to keep moving. Life becomes a series of checklists and 'to-dos'. Pressure mounts when these are not checked off by the socially-imposed deadlines. It appears that the pursuit for individualism is really just the workings of herd mentality.

2003-02-02T00:16:00.000+10:00

The Age of Dharma
I’m 26 years old – only recently. I’m a product of this globalised, consumer-driven, bottom-line focussed, disposable, superficial and lonely society that we have become. I am struggling to define myself in this world where time is a commodity equated to dollars. How much time, or money am I actually wasting now? The answer is probably between too much and far too much. So much and yet so little.

The real question is, what the **** has 26 years on this planet taught me? I have this paranoia that everyone has figured it out before me, because sometimes I just don’t get it. I don’t get how we are made by God and yet display, too infrequently, the qualities that he has bestowed on us. I don’t get how humans can have the capacity to be so cruel and yet also have the capacity to love with intensity. I don’t get why some people have all the bad luck and others who seem to deserve it, thrive and prosper. I don’t get why there is so much inequality, suffering and ignorance in the world. I don’t get why people can go on calmly with their lives when the future of humanity is at breaking point.

Maybe it’s apathy – the social disease of the 21st century. It’s contagious and I’ve got it – but I’m trying to kick the habit. There’s just too much information. I’m overwhelmed by it. Too many rules, too much hyprocrisy, too many questions, not enough answers. Too much for so few.

I’m frustrated. I feel helpless. What can I do to alleviate the suffering? How can I make my voice heard? How can I make this world a less lonely place? It’s so ironic that whilst technology can bridge the geographic boundaries, our psychic and emotional distance grows wider. I want to do all that I can do breach this. Take a risk! Give a stranger a smile, greet them, be genuine in everything that you say and do. Don’t betray your humanity – if we only live to survive (physically, emotionally or financially), then we will have not lived at all.

2002-11-23T23:55:00.000+10:00

Procrastination is a very dirty habit

I am taking yet another extended break from study at the moment. I really need this break. Ok, so I just had break. I will be able to finish everything. I'll just stay up all night to finish 30 chapters. I know its humanely possible and I'm human (last time I checked)......Never underestimate the power of denial (I think the weird dude from American Beauty said that).

Exams just don't make sense to me....especially at post-graduate level. Not the actual exam but the CONCEPT of exams. The only thing that exams seek to prove is the power of memorisation. Why even have exams as a method of assessment? I hate exams (if you haven't already noticed). Not because I don't know anything but because I find memorising pointless. A better measure of one's knowledge is application to real business problems. The courses supposedly prepare students for the business world, then why don't we have methods of assessments that reflect this?

Here's a suggestion - instead of having closed-book written exams (of which you MUST pass, regardless of whether you are sitting on a HD), divide students into teams and give them a real-world business problem which they will have to solve and present to the examiners. This method of assessment will distinguish those students who can effectively apply their knowledge, work in teams and also present their ideas effectively. These are the skills that effective business leaders possess.

Hopefully Australian business schools will catch up to their European counterparts. Let's get real!

Meanwhile, it's back to rote learning.........

2002-10-07T22:48:00.000+10:00

Can't understand why people don't want to join in the war against the Iraqis......says Dubya

2002-09-26T14:08:00.000+10:00

Another beautiful day! I can't seem to get enough of the sun. Spent my lunch sitting in Hyde Park soaking up the sunshine. Plenty of other people had the same idea....some stripped down to a pair of swimmers (mainly male and foreign) to get maximum exposure. I think by the end of the month I should be a lovely golden bronze (after the painful stage of looking like a pickled carrot).

A Danish-Australian Queen?

2002-09-22T19:44:00.000+10:00

Summer is in the air. The sky is a mirror image of the ocean. Clouds of waves interrupting the expanse of blue. The water glistens and sparkles in the smiles of faces around.
On days like this I am in love with Sydney. I can understand why a well-travelled friend said that "Sydney is paradise".
I'm looking forward to getting a tan, which in my case means a pink-red hue (think: boiled lobster). Joys of indolent indulgence is laughably enhanced by the following snippets of a conversation I involuntarily overheard between a group of single male friends (who shall remain nameless).

B1: Did you get any last night?
B2: (big grin) yeh I got 2 numbers
B1: So did you bang em?
B2: (gaff) She's a gymnast. Can you imagine the flexibility and interesting positions.

.....and the conversation continues and never detracts from this theme. And you wonder why men and women are such different creatures??

2002-09-19T00:10:00.000+10:00

Daily Trivia
Japan is the world's biggest foreign aid donor, eventhough it has been in recession for the past decade.
Are they just a very compassionate lot? Well I'm sure there's some of that involved but the main fact is create trading opportunities with developing countries.
Provide aid to fund Japanese building companies, surveyors, road builders etc etc. That's a pretty good idea I think. Helping yourself and others at the same time.

2002-09-16T16:42:00.000+10:00

"Finding Peace Through Stillness" (Greta Gaut) Psalms 131 & 46

2002-09-16T15:09:00.000+10:00

Words that sound what they mean....
Putrid
Blase
Biggot
Gobble-de-gook
Churn

Daily Trivia
Nauru doesn't produce any of its own food or water. It has to import water and food from neighbouring countries.
I can't think of a more inappropriate place to set up a refugee camp. How do you sleep at night Mr Ruddock? Your own daughter can't even stand you

2002-09-13T00:27:00.000+10:00

A year ago I had a horrible nightmare
I dreamt in lucid slumber
A million miles away
People running with fear and anger in their hearts
Chaos everywhere
Dante's vision a reality

Today I awoke to a nightmare
The emptiness
a neverending void

Chaos still reigns
Grief is fresh

The resolve of revenge
Divides
Humanity

2002-09-11T18:02:00.000+10:00

Today is the anniversary of Sept 11 and the media will not cease to remind us. The media have coined the phrase - "The day the world changed". But has the world really changed? News of the imminent attack on Iraq led by the US doesn't suggest that much has changed at all.
If the Bush Administration believe that war can resolve terroism and bring world peace, they are fooling themselves (or maybe think that the public can be fooled easily). How can bringing about a war, slaying innocent civilians ever bring about peace? The logic is flawed. Revenge will certainly follow and another attack like 9/11/01 will be inevitable.
What authority does the US have in eliminating weapons of mass destruction, when they themselves are guilty of it? Yes we need to eliminate these weapons, but at what cost? Isn't the aim to protect humanity, to protect innocent civilians? War on Iraq will only serve to destroy innocent civilians - the same people that the US claim to protect. What hyprocrisy!
Hate only breeds hate. Not only has change not occurred but the US have tightened their "Fortress America" mentality (abandoning the Kyoto Protocol being one example). It seems that the US (and I mean the government and policy makers) have not embraced the opportunity to change the world of inequality; the world of haves and have-nots. Tackling these deep-seated issues is the ONLY way to rid terroism.

2002-09-11T14:46:00.000+10:00

Wow it's been a while since I last wrote. That doesn't mean that I don't think about writing. Actually I think about blogging at least a few times a day but lack of time & resources prevents me from doing so. I wish someone could come up with a device that downloads these thoughts straight into my blog.

The day started with promises of productivity and has typically ebbed into one of procrastination and pleasure....just like last night (I was chatting with friends in North America until wee hours of the morning).

For those of you who ever pondered over the question "What is Life ?" here is a piece that may provide the answers in a simple yet profound way....

Life is a gift, accept it
Life is an adventure....dare it
Life is a mystery....unfold it
Life is a game....play it
LIfe is a struggle....face it
Life is beauty....praise it
Life is a puzzle....solve it
Life is opportunity....take it
Life is sorrowful....experience it
Life is a goal....achieve it
Life is a mission....fulfill it!
- Taken from UNSWEETENED (Anthology of writings from UNSW students), subsequently taken from Even Eagles 'Need a Push'

In the meantime stay tuned for the new life of my blog (thanks to Dr Pike). Back to work.....

2002-08-29T00:02:00.000+10:00

Shit! I think I've stuffed this up....

2002-08-24T13:42:00.000+10:00

why isn't this html thing working????

2002-08-24T13:34:00.000+10:00

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes" - Proust
"It is in logic that we prove but in intuition that we discover" - Henri Poincare

2002-08-24T13:32:00.000+10:00

Meant to write yesterday but having had only 2 hours sleep and a very eventful day, I hit the sack gratefully. Though I did wake up in a panic state. Once again my neurotic self showing through. Lying in bed in the morning is actually the worst time of the day for me. It's the time when my mind goes into overdrive and all my fears and worries about the future culminate into a sharp pain in my chest. You would think that one would immediately jump out of bed to avoid these thoughts, but not I. I want to break away from these thoughts, but in some way I am also used to having to having them there. Could this just be a habit? One advantage is that the day does get better, and usually doesn't end in self-elimination as predicted.
Yesterday was a great day. I managed to drag myself out of bed (although I had already been awake some while) and get myself ready for Daffodil Day. My first time as a volunteer, I didn't really know what to expect. Only wanted to help out for a great cause. Daffodil Day is the main fundraising activity for the Cancer Council. On the day, August 23rd, various merchandise in the form of pins/bears/ribbons/pens with the symbolic daffodil are sold to raise money for cancer research. My cousin died of leukemia when he was only 17, so I guess I have a special affiliation with the Cancer Council.
When I got to Central Station, the stalls had already been set up since 6am. The job seemed easy enough - stand there, serve people, take money, fill up stock - that's if you're working behind the makeshift stalls. There were too many volunteers (which is great!) there and a few of us were asked to sell the merchandise on the platforms and foyer areas. Although initially apprehensive about this (it's always easier to have someone approach you first) I soon revelled in this opportunity and preferred it to standing in one place.
If you've ever been interested in observing people, then try selling things on the street or walkways. I had people, who upon seeing my yellow sash (which prominently displayed the words "Daffodil Day Volunteer") promptly looked the other way, started talking into their mobiles, changed their direction - basically did anything to avoid me. I became fascinated in watching this behaviour. Some people, mainly suits, charged right through the station as if preparing for attack. Others, deep in thought, heads down, unaware of where they were. Some, afraid to make eye contact in case that would translate into an obligation to buy something. Others, who are curious, want to make contact but too afraid to make the first move.
Generally I found that most people were quite reasonable, after breaking the ice with a smile or comment. Most were aware of the Daffodil day campaign and many, particularly during the later part of the morning had already bought something. Though there was a variation in response between Asians and Caucasions, particularly among the older generation. This is probably due to lack of awareness. The older Asian people and students didn't appear to be aware of Daffodil Day. Although with my limited Cantonese I tried to explain - it had limited success. The younger Asians, mainly students were either "intending buyers" or "nonchalent". Too many had excuses like "I have no money" - although I'm wearing $200 pair of Nikes, "I'm in a rush" or "I've got just enough money to buy a train ticket".
I had a guy who's excuse was that he had just enough money to buy a lottery ticket. I said to him "one good deed deserves another". He ended up buying a ribbon in hopes that his good deed would lend him some luck for the lottery.
In the end, whatever the motives, it's the contribution that counts. This experience has made me more aware of the marketing problems that charities face. It appears that using guilt has limited success rate. Appealing to peoples' humanity and good conscience has some success rate but only if persistently pursued - but then you may run into the risk of being annoying. Something else I found interesting was the "collective factor". Often if I was selling to someone, another person might be persuaded to come and have a look or to buy something.
In my 4 hours, I did have a good response rate. I did become disheartened at one point when there seemed to be too many rejections but that would instantly turnaround when a person comes up and offers to buy something (without prompting). In all a very worthwhile exercise and definitely something I will do more of in the future.

2002-08-23T03:57:00.000+10:00

I'm writing this at 3.58am. I'm not usually awake at this time. I'm not usually seething with frustration either. My next door neighbour has decided to launch an offensive attack and has intentionally left his radio on high volume to disturb my sleep. Why would anyone do that? Other than masochistic tendencies I would say that he is trying to get us back. What for? Long story....but I've got the time and since his shop won't open for another few hours, I might as well divulge.
Last year the neighbouring property was bought by an enterprising person, who shall remain nameless. He put in an application to develop the property into a cafe. Of course, being residents we objected to the development application and I went to the council meeting to put in my objections. The council ruled against us and this DH was permitted to develop on the condition that the backyard was not to be used for business purposes - otherwise the people sitting in the cafe would be able to observe us drying our laundry. Of course, being the greedy little shit that he is, decided to contravene this. Being watched by strangers while drying one's laundry is not a pleasant experience and I promptly put in my complaints to the Council. And that brings us to why the radio has been left on while no-one is actually occupying his building. Anyway, I'm off to put this in writing to the DICKHEAD. Can't believe the immaturity of some people. It also highlights the unreasonable ways that people respond to problems.
My whole family is awake now.....this is making me even more angry. In my mind I'd like to do something really violent - like smash some stones through his glass window or spray paint some offensive words....but of course that would just be bringing myself down to his level.

2002-08-20T23:26:00.000+10:00

What is it about making presentations that puts people in a tether? I read someone that some people would rather be in a plane crash then make a presentation in front of people. Bizarre. I don't think my fear is that great - but I still get butterflies when I have to present in front of class. This is a bit strange since I've actually taught English to a room full of professionals in China, and spoken at a hotel function to staff and guests interested in Australia. I've even had to MC in front of 200 guests. Though I have to admit, I no longer get sweaty palms. I do experience the fear of getting something wrong. The ironic thing is, most students aren't even listening. They're either too concerned about their own presentation or just drifting off. As for the lecturer - he/she is probably more concerned with why you're so nervous. It's perhaps easier to visualise that you are talking to a group of pumpkins. Most varieties are non-critical.

2002-08-19T23:23:00.000+10:00

According to Engcle (sp?) - a psychologist - I'm an introverted, neurotic, non-liar. Wonder if that's why I didn't get the job? I have to work on the 'non-liar' bit.
I'm the greatest person in the world, the best there is to offer to human kind. Your decision to not hire me is YOUR LOSS and I bet that you'll regret it.
Hmmmm I think it's working.....

2002-08-19T17:21:00.000+10:00

How does one bounce back from set backs. I know, I've read enough self-help books to recognise all the new age terms. Power of the positive they say. Easy to say but hard to do. Just got rejected from a job that I really really wanted. It doesn't help when the explanation they give is - "You were an excellent candidate, but the other person was better". Better in what way??! Sometimes it's better to be brutally honest.

2002-08-18T21:38:00.000+10:00

I'm finally here after agonising over my name for this blog. What's in a name? Well wasn't it Romeo or JuIiet who said that a name is just a name? But I believe that a name isn't just a name, not initially anyway. When you hear of someone's name for the first time, you immediately form some kind of impression of them - even if you've never seen or interacted with them before. That impression is usually created from associations in the past. Even when you've never met a person with the same name, it still evokes imagination. Well words evoke imagination - which is why marketers spend so much time thinking of names for their brands and products. But sometimes names are initially chosen for their lack of meaning e.g. Coca Cola - but of course this name, after billions of advertising dollars NOW has a meaning, whether it be a beverage, a sign of the multinational taking over the world depends on the individual's interpretation and cultural upbringing. In China, when the brand coca cola was phonetically translated, it meant "frogs foetus" (or something like that) - probably not something you would associate with a beverage (even in China). So after initial failure, they finally chose some chinese characters that sounded similar to Coca Cola but mean "Happiness in the Mouth"....which of course conjures other images in some people's minds. But the point is, the name was everything. So what about my name? What am I trying to say? What's my message?

Hence my great dilemma over the name selection. Well, now I have a crisis identity because I don't even know if my title is "serendipity" or "tokidoki" - which came about because I couldn't get serendipity.
Why "serendipity"? Well I didn't choose it because it's associated with John Cusack (although he is one my favourite actors). I chose it because I like the meaning of the word. What does it mean? Well according to Macquarie dictionary it means "the ability to make desired but unexpected discoveries" - which I think is a pretty neat ability and is probably something I live for. As for "tokidoki" - it's japanese for "sometimes". Besides being a cute sounding word, it also says something about me. I'm a "sometimes" person - which in my language, means that I have a problem with commitment. Not an "always" person or "never" person but a "sometimes" person - which can also mean "sitting on the fence".

So I've just found another way to kill time - like I needed it! I'm already a professional procrastinator. Well I've only got my friend, Pike, to blame....
Not sure what I'm supposed to be writing, or whether I even have a point, but this is definitely easier than reading a marketing textbook or working on my marketing research assignment.... which is what I'm supposed to be doing right now.

With great reluctance I'm signing off...