(Written from 26 May, final week of classes and exactly one month remaining in Australia)

There’s no such release as the feeling of finally being done with classes. The time of worry is over! Exams are done, papers submitted, and school a distant memory. You now have the rest of the summer (or in my case, some winter first, and then summer) free to do whatever you want. Spend time with friends, go out and explore new wonders, all in all stress free. Right?

Sadly, I’m not done yet. Two of my major essays are due within one week, Creative Writing next Friday and World History as soon as I can pump it out. Needless to say, I’m no where near started, but I can’t take the same “do it the day before” attitude I had back home and apply it here. It gets worse though; not only that, but for these two classes I’m earning over 50% of my grade WITHIN ONE WEEK. The Creative Writing short story, complete with commentary, making up 70% of my grade, and the World History presentation I gave Wednesday, combined with the essay on said presentation, and the final next Wednesday making up 80%. I did a great job on the presentation, and I don’t doubt I can turn out a decent short story with a little planning, or that the other essay or final will be all that difficult for a history buff like myself. But still, the fact that there is so much to do in such a short amount of time is slightly overwhelming.

My other two classes have exams in early June, at the horse race showgrounds for some baffling reason. I’m not stressed about them too much; I only need 6 points in European Rev and 4 points in Irish History to get High Distinction (their version of A+ I guess). My classes here, at Victoria University, are done, but sadly I can’t truly say all my classes are over. Thanks to the Excelsior Scholarship back home, I need 30 credits this year to keep the money, or else I have a giant loan to pay back. As I only have 27, I needed to take a summer class, and what better than Introduction to British Literature? From what I can tell, it’s not the kind of class one can just slide through easily (though I will try) and requires a certain amount of dedication that’s going to clog up my time a little while I’m still here. It’s is more of an inconvenience than a worry, but the class is certainly keeping me on my toes with its weekly discussions, multiple readings, TWO essays, and midterm and final.

The past few weeks have been busy, to say the least, so much so that time has really flown and I now find that I only have one month left here. Realising my time is short, I need to do whatever is left on my bucket list here before I’m no longer able to, as it may be some time before I get to come back. Melbourne is a decently sized city, but as a tourist I find that I’ve already done most of the things I wanted to while here. There’s a few things still to check out, but the list is growing very short and I find I’m going into the city once again just for the sake of going, rather than actually having plans. In Victoria, there’s things I want to do still, but that requires more planning, and often requires transport I don’t have. And out of state, I don’t have the budget, aside from my trip to Tasmania tomorrow.

But I’m determined to make the most of my time here while I still can (provided I get all my assignments done!). Instead of looking so much for things to do, I’m looking for people to do them with. I’ve become closer with friends, expanding my usual group with mutual friends that overtime became my own friends. Though I most often only hang out with a small group of people, I’ve become a slightly familiar face throughout UniLodge and find myself able to strike up a conversation with most anyone (which is a huge boost for me as I’m usually pretty shy and not outgoing). Going out with friends to the bar or for a party used to be a thing I was very much afraid of and dreaded (which isn’t one hundred percent gone), but now it’s become more common and comfortable. I’m looking forward to Tasmania, and hopefully other trips with friends soon. And of course, I’m looking forward to finally getting my classwork all complete so that I enjoy the final month of my time here somewhat stress free.

(Written from 13 May)

Imagine the average bar of soap, with an area of roughly 46.2 cm (I did a lot of math to illustrate this). Convert that to meters, then multiply that by 187,826 or so, and you’ve got 8,460 m. In kilometers, this is an area of 8.46 km. Paint it red, put it in the barren desert, claim it as an Aboriginal holy land, and you’ve pretty much got Uluru. A giant oasis in the desert, this is the perfect chance for the government (and occasionally locals) to make money from tourists, who come daily in the hundreds and violate nearly every sacred rule set in place. It’s hot, full of flies, and there is NOTHING else around. So, is it really that appealing?

I didn’t actually know if I’d be able to make it to Uluru (also known as Ayer’s Rock) up until a week before I did. Getting a text in the middle of class from Lily and Julia, they tell me they found tickets to Uluru for only $200 roundtrip. The catch? It was only five days away, and I didn’t know if skipping class with such short notice was a good idea. I realized though, that opportunities like this don’t come every day, and if I didn’t go I’d definitely regret it. I would get to go camel riding in the Outback, as I’d promised close friends from my church, and get to see this giant rock that just screams Australia as much, if not more, than Sydney Opera House. So in a wonderful spirit of “screw class, I’m in Oz,” me, Julia, Lily, and Joseph, made plans to travel to what the Aussies call “the Back of Bourke,” i.e., “the middle of rural nowhere.”

Stepping out of the airport, you immediately get hit with an immense heat, and the first thing you notice is the redness of the soil beneath your feet. It’s truly Martian when you first see it, and it’s near impossible to get off your shoes or bare feet. The next thing that hits you is the flies, which will not leave you alone no matter how much bug spray you use or if you were dumb enough to buy a goofy looking fly net (no offense Joseph and Lily). Since it’s impossible to get anywhere without a car, renting one was on our first list of priorities. With that, we went into what somehow classifies as a town for lunch, and after that, to the rock. There really is no way to prepare for seeing Uluru in person. At a quick glance, it is just a big red boulder in the middle of nowhere. But once you see it even from a distance, it is truly awe inspiring. It’s much bigger than any picture can properly portray, and as you driver closer and closer toward it it becomes more and more magnificent. There’s also surprisingly more vegetation than you would expect: vibrant bushes, small trees, and loads of yellow grass.

Our first stop at the rock was at an Aboriginal Cultural Centre, dedicated to showing Aboriginal life, belief, stories, and most beautifully, art. Unfortunately, you aren’t allowed to take pictures of most of it, which while sad for the photographer I’ve become, is understandable. To have your way of life constantly intruded upon, even mocked, whilst trying to hold onto your identity amongst invasion of your sacred land, is a struggle I’ll never fully comprehend. If it means no pictures, so be it. This was my first hands on glance at a life completely foreign to me, dating back over 80,000 years. With more time, I would have loved to have seen more, but the schedule didn’t allow. And so we left there to embark on a bush walk around the rock itself, and as we pull up to the parking lot we spot a massive tour group climbing on said sacred rock. I want to punch every single one of them. If there’s one thing you don’t do on someone else’s holy land, it’s climb all over it, in doing so disrespecting everything about the owner’s beliefs, and claim it as your own victory. Don’t get me wrong, I want to take pictures, and I want to climb. But I was raised to respect other people’s wishes and their beliefs. To ignore that makes you seem not like a conquering adventurer scaling the top of the world, but an ignorant prick who really doesn’t care at all that this is someone else’s sacred land.

But, leaving them be and secretly hoping karma will teach them a lesson while I’m on the other side of the rock, the four of us begin the long walk around the base. As I’d mentioned earlier, Uluru is huge. With a circumference of 9.4 km (5.8 mi), it’s bigger than Central Park, Hudson NY, or even my pleasant Footscray suburb. Everywhere there is something to see, each crack and crevasse a work of art and each outlying boulder beautifully placed. The sounds of the occasional breeze, buzzing insects, screeching hawks filling your ears, and the soft red sand beneath your bare feet (I had to know what it felt like without shoes). Nevertheless, we gravely underestimate how long this walk will take us. Surely, we’re just going to do a quick loop. After an hour, we begin to question how long the walk is. Debating whether we should turn back or not to make sure we have time to see the sunset, we decide to keep trekking, sure we’re more than halfway there. An hour and a half pass by, and we’re pretty sure we’re not far from the end. Just short of two hours in, we’re getting close, maybe. At two and half hours, we have to turn to look at the map. Only then do we realize that this is a FOUR HOUR hike. Much too late to turn back, we have to tough it out for another hour and a half.

In the great desert heat, having to refill on water many times, and constantly swipe away flies, we make it to the car exhausted. Determined to carry on to see the sunset from a vantage point a few kilos away, we drive and arrive having just missed the best part of the sunset. The flies are still insane, and the light isn’t good enough for pictures. But something greater is out there than a colorful rock. Driving to the hotel we begin to see the stars emerge in the Outback sky. First, one. Then two, or three. We check in, have dinner, and decide to head out again for some quick stargazing. I look up at the immensity of the heavens. In the Outback, there’s absolutely no light pollution. You can see everything, stars all around and light filling the night sky. The entire galaxy is before you, a sight impossible to capture with my camera (but I got some from a pro photographer) but instead enveloping your entire soul. This is the opening of the heavens. And there is nothing more beautiful than this.

The stars came into vision again very quickly: having slept only 5 or 6 hours, we had to wake up early in order to prepare for our sunrise camel ride. Stepping outside to wait for our pickup, the frigid morning air chills you with ease. Arriving at the camel farm, the staff give us a quick run down on what to expect, and then take us out to the camels themselves. Having ridden horses several times, I can tell you riding a camel is a whole different rodeo. To start, camels are much bigger than most horses, and must be mounted as the camel kneels, as opposed to climbing up into a stirrup. Once saddled the camel rises to the ground using its back legs first: failure to observe and prepare for this leaves one with a face full of red dirt. Camels also walk using one side of their legs at a time, going left, then right, then left, much like a ship. As with horses, naturally you want a camel that is well behaved, and even more so since an angry camel has the tendency to spit. When asked about our camel, Luci, we were told that he is “adventurous” and “strongminded.” Only once up and on our walk did they reveal his full name.

And so, Joseph and I are ridding Lucifer the Camel through the bush as the sun just comes up over the horizon. The stars slowly fade as warmth returns to the Outback. Lucifer is actually quite well behaved, making me think he’s just misunderstood and teased by the other camels. We get to Uluru once again, as the sun rises over the vast Australian bush and paints the rock in these beautiful reds and oranges. I’ve said this many times before, but the view is breathtaking in every way, and the whole experience blows you away. Never before would I have thought I’d make it to Australia, let alone riding camels in the open Outback. I’m currently doing something I doubt more than 3 other people I meet will have ever done (Joseph, Lily, and Julia). I get to witness something here completely beyond myself. The beauty of this sacred rock, having in a peaceful and respectful way conquered it by walking the entire circumference of it. The vastness of this great galaxy, each and every star and planet before me. The pleasure of sitting a top one hell of a camel (pun intended) while riding through the desert.

I cannot overstate how special it really is for me to be here, not just in this country, but this world, this life. There is so much to explore out there. A rock. A desert. A country. A galaxy. And it’s yours.

(Written from 6^th May, almost 3 months since leaving)

So the Australian adventure is here, changing me in more ways than I ever could have imagined. Life has become so much bigger, so much more beautiful. I’ve proven to myself and the world that I, Jonathan David Kline, can take on the world, then thousand miles from home. The days of a small secluded life in rural nowhere have been behind for quite some time, and I find that the opportunities in Australia are far more than I ever had back home. I love it here. I really, genuinely do, and a giant part of me wants to stay here forever. So with the future ahead of me, my eyes set on Australia and all the adventures I’m experiencing in this great new world, what do I really miss from home?

To be honest, a lot less than I thought at first (I’m sorry to all the people back home reading this, especially my Dad, but bear with me). I even boast about it to all my friends. They talk occasionally about how much they miss this or that, whether it be the food, or New Paltz, or friends, or any other range of things. But honestly, I don’t miss home like I thought I would. In terms of food, I don’t really eat much to begin with, so whatever keeps me fed is enough (usually pizza, grilled toasties, and chicken parm). I’m not from the city, so I’m not attached to New York style pizza, grilled toasties are easy to make anywhere, and although initially I missed having chicken parm come with spaghetti, I kinda like that it comes with ham and chips (fries) here. As for New Paltz, I was only there for one semester before coming here. Though I loved that semester, I don’t have the same attachment to it as others. Going back will be nice, but not something I’m extremely looking forward to. That ties into friends as well: I only got to make so many friendships at New Paltz due to only being there for so long, and once I go back there’s only a few faces I’ll have actually missed. Outside of New Paltz, truth be told I don’t have more than two or three close friends, who I only see once or twice a year anyway.

This isn’t to say of course that I don’t miss SOME food, New Paltz, and friends back home. But in many ways, I’ve found more success here than I did back home. While I miss some restaurants (and especially cheaper food), I’ve found several places I like here that can substitute. Plus, I’ve become half decent at making my own food, and do so just about everyday (which doesn’t sound like a huge accomplishment until you’re out on your own without a meal plan like at New Paltz). I miss the small town feel of New Paltz, and even though Deyo was kinda crappy I miss my old suite, which had legroom, occasional crazy, and most importantly, free laundry. But I’ve come to appreciate Victoria University enough (it’s not the greatest school); classes are easier and students and professors friendly. I won’t say I like UniLodge (we’ve had to evacuate for a ‘fire’ every week), but I enjoy being able to cook my own meals, play games of pool, and hang out with friends. And friend-wise, I feel I’m much more comfortable and able to enjoy being with friends here more than I sometimes was at home. Now, I’ll actually seek to hang out with mates, watch movies, play games, and importantly for me, not be as afraid of women or parties/drinks as I used to be. The friendships I’ve developed are ones I never really had back home, and even though inevitably I won’t be able to keep them all once home, I feel like now I know how to make friends, how to be social, and once home how to keep friendships going.

But when it comes to friends, there’s one I truly miss with all my heart, and whenever I’m asked, “don’t you miss anything from home?” is my immediate response: my sister. Two years younger than I am, Shelby has been my best friend since day one. We had an incredible childhood full of memories and jokes we make to this day. After losing our mom, we toughed it out together, working to push through and build the other up (I needed a LOT of it). Always supportive, always there for the other, and at the same time always making fun of the other or making complete fools of ourselves. So when I first started looking at study abroad, the one thing that was holding me back above everything else was being so far from Shelby. At New Paltz, I was still close enough I could come visit when I wanted, and we still talked on the phone every single day. Now, I was going to be geographically further from her than ever before. Not to mention, this being her senior year of high school, I’m not there to help her through and experience such a huge part of her life. Performing her senior year acting troupe show, getting her driver’s license, going to prom, deciding where to go to college, walking down the stage at graduation… and I’m on the other side of the planet.

Yet even though I’m so far away from home, I still feel close to home, if not closer (if that makes sense). I’m still able to talk with my sister at least once a week but usually more. I don’t always enjoy the time difference, but we’ve come to manage and have worked out the best times to call each other (usually my late morning, which is NY’s late evening). I still get to be a part of my sister’s life, watching as she develops into a new woman. Just as this trip has changed me, it’s also changed her, making her more independent and ready to leave the nest, and as a brother I couldn’t be happier. I also try to talk to my parents at least once a week, who I also miss a lot. My dad is always excited to hear from me, brightening up his day whenever I call, and mine as well. I think even more than Shelby he wants me to come back soon, and I can’t blame him. As excited as my family is to hear all my interesting stories taking on sharks in the reef and crocodiles in the jungle (I may have borrowed those stories from Finding Nemo and Crocodile Dundee), I’m just as excited to hear stories back home about how the deck furniture is being replaced or my dad got his crown replaced. Because even though it’s not always interesting at a glance, it’s home.

Being so far away has made me greatly appreciate everything about home that I sometimes took for granted. I miss the dishwasher, free laundry, my computer, the deck swing and hammock my family is beginning to set up once again. One big thing I really miss having is my car; which is definitely one of the first things I’m using once I get back (hopefully on the right side of the road!). Not that I mind so much using public transportation or my feet for shorter distances, but there’s some days I just want to drive in the countryside, or not walk fifteen minutes to the grocery store. Although generally speaking the weather here is better, I miss the change of the seasons and the beauty of spring. I miss hanging out with my cousins after church on Sunday or being at my grandparents doing yard work. I miss baseball games and bike riding and building things. Home cooked meals my stepmom would go out her way to make for us, sitting at the couch watching Jeopardy while eating said meals, and then a walk to the falls after dinner as a family….

Despite everything here, there’s just some things back home that will always hold a special place in my heart. No matter where I go, or how far, or for how long, home is always home. Maybe one day Australia could be home. Maybe I won’t always stay in the same place I grew up. Maybe what I have at home isn’t meant to last forever. But there will always be something special about my life in upstate New York, that no matter what happens I will always treasure and cherish.