It’s been awhile since my last opus and much has happened in the interim.

I finished my first four-week practicum at Arundel State School, and I think they would have had to put a gun to my head to get me to return the following Monday. Throughout the month, I was logging 70-80 hours of work per week. I would ride my crappy bike to school for 8 p.m., arriving in a puddle of sweat, work in the classroom all day, ride my bike home and then stay up until midnight preparing my lessons for the next day. 

Some days were so busy that I barely had time to use the washroom. Unlike teachers in Ontario, Queensland staff are expected to monitor lunchtime, which left me about 20 min to wolf down my sandwich before getting ready for the next lesson. Some lessons turned out great (a science lesson on “energy” that included a quiz show with lollies for prizes), while others completely fell apart (a maths lesson that featured purchasing mock groceries), which was particularly disappointing when I put so much effort into creating something I thought was exciting. 

In my last epistle, I mentioned one of the hazards of teaching grade 3 is the presence of phantom farters. Believe it or not, it gets worse! I was stunned to discover a “booger” on the classroom calendar one day, but had my suspects, particularly one kid who spent one entire lesson with his finger up his nose. Then there was the unkempt girl who was sent home one day with nits (aka lice). When she was given the “all clear” to return to school, I had my doubts and felt kind of itchy when I found myself sitting next to her one day.

Grade 3s do have their good qualities, though. I believe I ate cupcakes at least four times since the mothers brought in enough treats for the entire class to celebrate birthdays. Speaking of which, I was invited to an 8-year-old’s party at one of those headache-inducing play places like Chucky Cheese’s. I ended up spending most of my time there chatting with an American woman about all the stuff we missed about home.

I have to go back to the class for three more observation days in October, but the hard work is over. Now it’s back to university lectures and heaps (as they say here) of assignments. I’ll have to trade notes with Bert and John when I get back, but I am finding a lot of the theory in education complete baloney.

Despite the workload, I did manage to get away this past week to Sydney thanks to reading week at the university. I made the mistake of going the cheap way and took the train ride from hell. If you can believe it, the train tracks in Queensland are a different gauge than those in New South Wales. This means that you cannot take a train from Brisbane to Sydney without getting off one first and hopping on another. In my case, this meant taking a bus from Southport (the Gold Coast) across the border to the train station. By car, the trip to Sydney takes 9-10 hours. By train, it takes 14+ hours of agony. Apparently, the tracks are so bad that they can’t run any high-speed trains along the coast, so the train ends up stopping at every bump along the way to allow a handful of passengers on and off. 

I took the overnight train on the way down, thinking I would save some time. It was almost impossible to sleep, though, since the seats gave me a numb bum, while the car of 70 people included at least 65 passengers who snored. The washrooms were also unbearable, stinking like an outhouse before we even left the station. The ride back, during the day, wasn’t much better and by the time I got home I felt dizzy from the movement of the train.

Despite this rather grim description, Sydney itself was spectacular. I was lucky in that my landlord had arranged for me to stay with a friend of his – an 80-year-old woman with an incredible flat in a neighbourhood full of multi-million dollar homes. Gwennie is one of those “grande dames” that gets her hair done once a week and dresses immaculately every day. The views from her balcony – where we ate breakfast every day – were stunning. For those who might be familiar with Sydney, Gwennie lives in Vaucluse/Watson’s Bay, out towards Sydney heads. 

The highlight of my trip had to be the Bridge Climb, where I joined a group to climb the famous harbour bridge. The only thing arduous about the climb was the impact on my wallet, but I felt it was worth it for the priceless view. Included in the price (A$130 weekdays, A$160 weekends) is a group shot, although they try to suck you in to buying one of the numerous solo shots the guide took during the 3.5-hour excursion. (Yes, I bought one!)

In general, Sydney reminded me a lot of Toronto with its mixture of old and new buildings, its parks and its cleanliness. What it has over Toronto, however, is its harbour and the opportunity for commuters to take the ferry to work. Other highlights for me included taking a ferry to Manly to see the famous beach and a visit to Hyde Park Barracks, home to thousands of convicts in years past. (I looked up my dad’s name and discovered that a John Barker arrived in 1835 on the Lady Kennaway. He was a soldier and labourer convicted of desertion and sentenced to 14 years.) Just for fun – and necessity – I used one of the public toilets on the street and was pleasantly surprised. Like those in Europe, customers put in some money (50 cents here) and have the toilet to themselves for a maximum of 20 min. After each visitor, the facility is washed clean, so it was spotless and smelled nice. Toronto should consider such delightful inventions!

While I was in Sydney, my landlord was in Melbourne to see his team, the Brisbane Lions, win the Grand Final in Aussie Rules Football. He was one of 91,000 in attendance and was pretty excited since it was the first time he had been to a Grand Final in his life – and he’s 65. He is originally from Melbourne and told me that AFL is more popular in the south, while Rugby League dominates up here in Queensland. The IRL Grand Final is tonight between the Sydney Roosters and the New Zealand Warriors, then it’s months and months of that most boring of sports known as cricket. Blah!

Needless to say, my running continues to take a back seat to my studies and teaching. And now that it is officially hot (we’ve had a few 30+ days – and summer doesn’t start until Dec. 1!), I have to run before 6 a.m. or suffer through the heat later in the day. I’m still with the Gold Coast Runners Club, although they’re hard to keep track of since they’re always hosting different events away from the regular clubhouse. They seem to have a 10K time trial at least once per month, and last weekend they had a special run out of town. A few weeks ago, they hosted a crazy run known as the Tambourine Trek, a 60km+ run up and down Mount Tambourine. No thanks!

Well, it’s back to the salt mines for me now. I’ve got another month of lectures to hang in here, then it will be exam time in November. I’m looking forward to the arrival of Carol Mitchell in late November when we will tour around a little together before I come home for Christmas. I will be home on Dec. 12 and hope to catch up with all of you then. Thanks to John Lyng for the regular updates on the Longboat action, but I have to admit I have mixed feelings about missing the Taylor Creek mud run this year.

Angela 

Also Read: Angela in Australia Part I