It seems like forever since I saw you guys and I have been desperate to get on the Internet and "chat." The trouble is, the phone and Internet system here in Australia is a bit different. They get charged each time they dial up locally, high-speed is a fairly new phenomenon, and Web pages outside of Australia are charged different rates to download. Anyway, to make a long story short, I haven't been able to set myself up on the Internet and e-mail at a home address yet, so I will have to correspond via my school e-mail for now. My address is: Angela.Barker@student.gu.edu.au. I might be able to set this up at "home" shortly, but I should be on campus most days and will access this account if you want to send a message. 

Now to my story. And please feel free to pass this along to whoever cares since I'm not going to type it again. It will take me almost as long as the flight itself. Speaking of which, it was torture! I really felt like a bag of shit dust when I finally got here, despite all the precautions I took, like drinking juice and water. The flight from L.A. to Auckland was interminable. If I stayed awake, I could have seen about four movies. When we landed in Auckland, we had about 9 hours to kill, so I went into town with a couple of other Canadian girls and we walked around the city. After awhile, however, our legs felt like we had just come off a boat and the ground felt "spongy." Jet lag, I think. We finally got into Brisbane two days after we left Toronto, then we were taken by van to a motel on the Gold Coast. I was put in a room with an American girl from Florida, who is studying at Griffith U. for six months, and a girl from India, who is only starting her university studies and will be here for four years. 

We had the weekend to recover before the school's accommodation officer arrived on Monday, but she really wasn't much help. I felt like I was in an episode of "The Great Race," since we were all given the same information on how to find a place to stay and we all took off, looking anxiously for accommodation. It became like a competition. The handful of Canadian girls who arrived when I did turned out to be like sorority girls and they didn't really have anything to do with me. I guess that's what you're like when you're only 22 or 23. Oh well, I don't think I would be happy living with them anyway, but they will be in my classes. (I honestly can't believe they're going to be teachers!) 

I ended up finding myself in a rather unusual living situation. I am renting a room from a retired businessman, who is renting another room to an 18-year-old Aussie guy (Nick) whose family is about 3 hours away. This man, named Ian, is a bit of an eccentric. I think he's a widower since he talks about his kids and grandkids, but he has been really nice to me and is concerned for my welfare. I told him I wanted to get a bicycle and he took me to the dump to find one since he got one there himself for $10! At least you won't care if it gets "nicked," he told me. The house is as neat as a pin, but the furniture is vintage Salvation Army. I do have my own bathroom, however, which was an attraction. I can walk to the shops and even to school, although it would be better on a bicycle. (The transit system here is the pits -- expensive and unreliable.) 

Most of the students were lured by the beach and are staying in Surfers Paradise, but these are pricey condos and are farther away from the school and shops. We were also warned that women shouldn't walk alone in Surfers at night, so I opted for the safer and cheaper option. I also feel that I'll get a better understanding of Australia by talking with Ian and Nick, while these other students will only stick with their own. By the way, there are tons of Norwegians here -- about 1,000 students. They tend to stick together, though, and are snobby. I'm sure Bob Bubba would be drooling over the blond babes. 

As I've been getting my feet wet and getting over the jet lag, I've been walking around, enjoying the weather and the unusual flora and fauna. The campus is beautiful and the bird sounds make it seem like I'm in a jungle. I start classes officially next Monday and will hopefully get into a routine and not be so homesick. I am easily the geezer in the class, although I hope people don't think I'm as old as I am. I hope to join some clubs and meet some more "mature" people soon. I can't stand these dopey girls with their guts hanging over their pants! 

I have not had a chance to contact Paul Ewing yet, since I don't have a phone. If you are talking to Jennifer McGarry, tell her I got her message via you and my mom, but I just had no time to hook up with her that last day. I was full of anxiety as I raced around to get my money exchanged and move out of my condo. As it was -- and don't laugh too hard -- I left my condo without my underwear! When I was packing at my mom's house, I realized that there was one drawer I didn't clean out, and of course it had to be my underwear. It couldn't be socks or anything like that. Luckily, I went back the next day and stuffed them in my suitcase before I went to the airport. 

Please say hi to everyone and pass along my e-mail address. Have fun in Montreal and tell me all about it. Let me know how Sharon is doing. I miss you guys immensely and am terribly homesick right now. I promise to send pictures once I get my e-mail situation sorted out. Talk to you soon. 

Angela 

P.S. I saw my first cockroach last night in the sink of my bathroom. Yikes! 

Survivor Gold Coast

Probably the most annoying aspect of my visit here has been the technical frustrations. I always thought that Australia had a similar infrastructure to Canada, given the age of the country, but I was mistaken. I had to get a second phone line installed at Ian's house since, like in Britain, all local calls are charged per call -- even though we pay a monthly fee. The Internet is equally bizarre, with Web home pages considered "downloads" and Internet packages priced according to how many downloads the user is allowed. In Toronto, I used to compose my e-mails offline, then dial up and send them all at once to save my time online. Here, it costs me every time I log on, so I am better to log on once and just stay on the Internet and compose all my e-mails online. You will notice that I now have an e-mail address at home (angela64@tpg.com.au), so even though my school e-mail address will still work, I can access this e-mail from home and I don't have to fight other students for time in the computer lab. 

With each of these hurdles overcome, I am beginning to relax. I am also getting to know my classmates more, even if I am the resident geezer. The foursome I called the "Sorority Girls" in my earlier letter are now known as "The Borg" since they seem to do everything together. I'm actually off to have my first Aussie beer tonight with some of my classmates, so things are looking up.

Some things to know about Australia for those who might like to visit: Queensland is the skin cancer capital of the world (I guess that's something I should have looked at); toilets have two flushers -- regular and turbo (thanks to George Hubbard for warning me about that one); although it's an athletic country, drivers don't care about cyclists or pedestrians -- a girl in my class has already been hit by a car; in relation to this point, I think I might die in a roundabout one day (I knew I should have written my will before I came); and Aussies are as self-centred as Americans (Commonwealth Games coverage is pathetic for anyone who wants to hear anything about anyone other than an Australian, and the only news I heard about Canada was the Pope's visit).

That's it for now, but I hope to have more to say again soon. By the way, despite seeing lots of boats around here, I haven't seen any dragon boats. I think there are more of them towards Sydney and Perth.

Submitted by Angela Barker, August 9, 2002

It's been awhile since my last missive and a lot has happened over the past month. After five weeks of lectures, we got down to business with our first four-week block of practice teaching. I am posted at Arundel State School, the second-largest elementary school in all of Australia, with 1200 students in K-7. I am in a class of grade 3s, which is a nice age to begin with since they are young enough to still like their teacher, but old enough to reason.

The first week went fairly well, mostly due to my supervising teacher who is a 30-year veteran of the business. She has been very encouraging and a great mentor, despite my fumbling through the first few lessons. The kids have even taken to me and I get a few hugs each day. I even got invited to an 8-year-old's birthday party at a place called AbrakeDazzle that is supposedly like Chuckie Cheese (Excedrine headache #33). I had forgotten, however, that little kids are phantom farters and I find that I am constantly walking through stinky clouds in the classroom.

Kids can also be brutally honest, so it didn't surprise me when a few of the girls had to tell me one day that my hair looked like I had just gotten out of bed. I explained that I ride my bike to school and probably had "helmet head" - thinking to myself that I better get a haircut soon. (Bob Nagle will be glad to know that everyone must wear a helmet when riding a bicycle in Queensland.)

Arundel, like most schools in Queensland, is set up almost like a "compound" with each grade in separate blocks, connected by covered walkways. On sunny days, no one is allowed out in the playground without a hat - and that includes the teachers. As the Toronto School Board fights with the Ontario government over funding, I wish some of those teachers could see how much is expected of their counterparts here. For example, the teachers take turns supervising lunch and "afternoon tea" so that I often only get 20 minutes to cram down my own sandwich before I'm expected out on the "oval."

Beyond school, I continue to learn a lot about Australian culture and am constantly surprised by the differences with Canada. I went on a bus trip today with the International Students Association to an area of the rainforest called Springbrook. I have attached a photo taken of me at the top of one of the lookouts, where we saw 2000-year-old trees, waterfalls, gorges, exotic birds and even a goanna - a scary looking beast similar to a Komodo dragon. "Don't scare him or he's likely to think you're a tree, run up your leg and rip it to shreds," warned our guide. Yipes!

The bus driver on the trip gave me some insight into Australian culture with his descriptive banter along the way. Aussies are so politically incorrect that it comes as a bit of a shock to Canadian ears. For the first part of our trip, the driver regaled us with jokes about Aborigines that would probably see him lose his job at home (e.g. What do you call a bunch of Aborigines rolling down a hill? An "abolanche."). He proceeded to mimic an East Indian accent (like Peter Sellers in The Party), despite the presence of numerous East Indians and Bangladeshis on the bus. At this point, my eyes were bugging out of my head!

This wasn't the first time I had heard this kind of talk, however. A few weeks ago, I heard a radio announcer discussing the fact that New Zealand has a member of parliament who has had a sex change. The fellow said that MP stood for "missing pecker" and that this MP wouldn't be around long because he "wouldn't have the balls to make the big decisions." Can you imagine this being said in Canada?

At times, I don't think Aussies are even speaking English at all and I often find myself saying "pardon" or "sorry." It took me awhile to figure out that "pokies" are not something rude, but are slot machines. A "hoon" is like a hooligan, a "boot" is a trunk of a car, "chips" are French fries, "biscuits" are cookies, "rubbish bins" are garbage cans, a "tip" is a dump, "lollies" are candies and "chockies" are chocolates. You don't say you're going to the bathroom or washroom. You say you are going to the toilet or the loo.

An interesting introduction to the culture was to take in a game of footie - Aussie Rules Football - with my landlord, Ian, who explained the rules as we watched. I wondered why both teams had black-and-orange stripy socks until I was told that it was the Labrador Tigers versus the Mayne Tigers (sounds a bit like the CFL?). The coolest part for me was to discover that the fans were allowed onto the field at the end of each quarter to listen to the coach yell at his team (see attached photo). It was the most bizarre thing to stand there - almost like I was eavesdropping - and listen to the coach yell, "You're not winning the ball because you don't want to get HURT!" Well, duh! Would you?

I have managed to find a running club here, but I only run with them once a week since they train at ungodly hours. I meet them Sundays at 6:30 a.m., but the rest of the week they train at 5:00 a.m. Check out their Web site at www.goldcoastrunnersclub.com. If you thought Longboat had an argument over its colours, wait until you see these uniforms: purple and lime green! In another example of politically incorrect talk, I asked one guy if he was the club president and he said, "No, we have a woman for president, but she's a real bitch - and a tart!" I know he was only joking, but he didn't even know me and felt comfortable saying such a thing. The running season is winding down in this area since it is going to get too hot to race in the near future, so I'm not sure if I'll have a chance to get into any races before I come home for Christmas.

I have also discovered some dragon boaters, and apparently they're pretty intense on the Gold Coast. The Gold Coast Dragons are the Australian champions and they train four times per week - three on dry land - all year-round. Gulp! I think they'll take one look at me and say I'd make a good mascot. I will keep you posted on whether or not I can hook up with a team down here. 

In other sporting news, I have to tell you that the Aussies are as bad or worse than the Americans when it comes to blowing their own horn. Coverage of the Commonwealth Games here was appalling. I watched the entire women's marathon and, because there was an Aussie sweep, the commentators never said what happened to that poor Kenyan girl who cramped up after 30K. Fortunately, a Canadian won both the men's and women's triathlon, or I wouldn't have had a clue how they finished. In the recent Pan-Pacific Swimming Championships, the Aussie media billed it as "US versus U.S." - as in Australia versus the United States. (I can hear Melanie, Kevin and Bob gritting their teeth right now.) For once, I was actually cheering for the Americans!

Last, but certainly not least, I continue to be freaked out by the cockroaches and other critters. As Toronto gets colder this fall, keep this in mind and you won't complain about the frost. The other day, I saw a cockroach on my toothbrush! Blah! As Paul Ewing's wife, Jana, told me: turn the light on and then wait a few seconds for everything to scurry away before entering a room. I have taken this advice to heart and practise it faithfully. (Mind you, I got a cover for my toothbrush now and put it on every night.)

I'd like to wish everyone good luck with the big Longboat race next weekend and hope that you get another great day. I look forward to seeing everyone in December.

I'll leave you with this sick, but amusing item from the local paper:

"A man whose right leg was amputated below the knee after he trod on a screw while at a household rubbish tip lost his case for compensation yesterday ... Mr. Sunderland, a diabetic who often experienced numbness in his hands and feet, was unaware that a screw was stuck in his foot until he heard a 'scraping noise' on the footpath. The wound was doused with disinfectant but later turned gangrenous..."

Also Read: Angela in Australia - Part II

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