(Writing from 28th Mar, 1 day until break and week 5 of classes)
I wake up to my roommate’s alarm at six in the morning. I pretend to stay asleep, indeed I wish I were asleep myself. Six is WAY too earlier to arise. He goes to get ready for his job distributing flyers, and leaves around 6:30 or so. I close my eyes to sleep once again, only to wake up to the alarm at 7:45. The Circle of Life blasts from my phone jumping me awake, as well as likely half of Footscray. I’m really not that heavy of a sleeper, but I need motivation to wake up. I don’t have it at quarter to eight on a Wednesday. Nevertheless, I have to get up, and by eight, I do. Opening my box of Froot Loops is a disappointment, they’re not as fun and colorful as they are back home and cost a hell of a lot more. The milkaholic I am, I chug down about half a liter of milk; telling myself I need to limit. It really has become a problem, not so much for my body but for my wallet.
It only takes ten minutes tops to actually get ready: wash my hair, put a shirt on, and brush. But like a blossom opening up in the sunlight, I need time to warm up. I listen to encouraging music, making me feel strong and ready for the day, and pray for my family back home, as well as the chance to brighten the world. By 8:50, I leave my room with my backpack for the dreaded class: Irish History. Not being Irish myself, I don’t exactly care much for the class, nor do I enjoy the long lectures. I still learn, today about emigration (seems the Irish didn’t care for Ireland either), and a good part of is somewhat interesting.
My phone accidently goes off in class, which I quickly silence. Morning is the best time for reaching home, and my sister texts me either some joke she finds funny or some problem she needs my help with. Surprisingly, I miss a lot less from home than I thought I would. The food and cheap prices mostly, but most everything can be compromised by something else here. But if there’s one thing I do truly and genuinely miss, it’s my sister. We’re best friends, and it really does suck being so far away from someone you love so much. She finished up her senior acting troupe show over the weekend, White Christmas, which I desperately wish I could have seen. Of course, I also want to see her get her driver’s license, decide where to go to college, go to prom, and graduate high school in June. But in the same way this trip is making me more independent and ready to take on the world, I have to believe is happening to her as well. I love it here, but I cannot wait to see the woman she’s become in June, and be able to share all our stories and adventures once again.
With class FINALLY over at 10:00 (can an hour really pass so slowly?) I have two hours free. The room is open and empty, so I head there. I grab my laptop and start editing some pictures I took from Saturday. I went with some mates out to Ballarat Wildlife Sanctuary, a long trip away but one well worth it. They had a good enough amount of animals to go and view, something which I love to do, but the main attraction is the free ranging kangaroos that come up to people for food and attention. We spent hours upon hours with them, feeding, petting, and cuddling the roos like you would dogs (stay away from the koalas, I’m told they carry STD’s). On paper, it’s not something that sounds overly exciting or thrilling, but it really is quite the quintessential Aussie moment that I’ll definitely carry forever.
Lunch was next on the priority list, and I heated up some left-over Mac and Cheese from the night before. I’d cooked dinner for myself and the other mates, and although this was my first time cooking it, it turned out surprisingly well. Being here has taught me a lot about how much goes into making food: having to buy it, prepare it, clean it up, and constantly repeating the process. I’ve also learned quite a bit about cleaning, which is that things need to be cleaned, often. And while I had to clean at home as well, it was not nearly on the scale of a whole apartment room (which in these moments seem much bigger than upon first arrival). Though I’m not a neat freak, it’s clear that I took the relative cleanliness, or at least organization, of home for granted, and that here I have to be more consistent and dedicate some effort to the task. Unfortunately, while I received this ground breaking revelation, it has yet to hit my roommate.
Class was to start again at noon, and after cleaning up lunch I made my way back to campus. This class, The World Before 1700, is probably my favorite: I like the professor, the content, delivery, and time frame. We learn about the Romans, a point of history that always fascinated me. The lecture goes on for longer than Irish History does, but I don’t mind. After this class, I head down to the river, finding a nice spot on the grass to spend the hour long intermission I have. I have no agenda, no plans other than be back at three. It’s special to sit here along the river, listening to and watching all the strange Australian birds that I’ve come to love. They’re much different than the ones at home, parrots and magpies instead of robins and mourning doves. I sit here reflecting on how special it really is for me to be here, in Australia. There’s more to explore over the mid semester break, which for me starts tomorrow with the aquarium. I certainly still have a tourist mindset, but I genuinely love it here. I feel new and transformed, like I have a new and special life here. I don’t know that I want to leave.
Of course, I must at some point. I head to class again, a continuation of the last one as a tutorial rather than lecture. I sit next to Matt, one of the Americans I came to Australia with and a good friend. Class is decent, although the quiz he’s given us appears to require a bit more effort than I’d care for. Discovering it easier to do the quizzes after class, Matt and I team up and head back to his place to knock it out before break. His suite is much bigger than my room, though not as ‘clean’ (clean being extremely relative). The quiz takes about 20 minutes, and afterward I decide to hang around a little and watch some TV and eat some cake. I get to talk to some of his mates, who although I don’t know well are all good guys, if a little crazy, and with a good sense of humor. But, overtime the introvert in me calls, and I make my way back to my room for dinner. I try to avoid spending much time in my room, there’s not much to do there anyway and I can easily do that at home. The oven is in the kitchen in the common area, so I head there with a pizza to warm up. I run into Joseph, another close New Paltz mate, and briefly discuss our plans for the aquarium tomorrow and break overall. While other friends of ours are doing adventurous trips to Tasmania or Queensland for break, due to our regard for our budget we ended up stuck in Melbourne (being responsible sucks!). But, I cannot complain, as there’s still much to see and I’m sure to have a rip snorter (great time).
In the evening, I sit on the terrace on the fourth floor (really the fifth, Australians number their floors weird). With pizza in my belly and a day full of excitement, I find inspiration to write part of my book, something I had been able to do less of at New Paltz but have been trying to pick up again coming here. The tales of glory such as that of Rome, of adventurous trips across the world, of calm moments on the water and laughs with friends molding into a beautiful piece which I can only hope one day I manage to finish and publish. I look as the sun sets across the beautiful Australian sky. It’s beautiful so far, but I still believe in more. I may not yet know where it will take me, or where it will end, but I am assured that this will be a damn good story. And I’m glad to be living it, watching it unfold before my eyes one small piece at a time.