Today was my first day at Sydney Uni. I had no idea what to expect. And that made me nervous. And I hadn't yet been in the city. And that made me nervous. And I may or may not have lacked a proper map of train routes and so forth. And that made me nervous. Then there's all the scholarly stuff. And that made me really nervous.
Things were also chaotic in the house this morning. I promise to write more about my host family later, but there's Arie and Ditta, their youngest daughter (my age) Jody, and visiting this morning were also Tritta (second-youngest of 5 kids) and her daugheter Maya (18 months)--all of us rushing about getting ready. I didn't really know what was going on, except that I got dropped off at Chatswood rail station at 9:03 am, was instructed to get off at Redfern, and was left to fend for myself.
Which I did, though I didn't feel so adventurous doing it as I would have hoped. I stood on the train for the 20 minute commute, nervous hot and too close to the other commuters to relax. Fact about Sydney: the metropolitan area adds up to about 3 million people...but in land area? Ginormous. Much larger city than Chicago, say. Which makes for a nice, breezy, uncramped feel...but also makes trouble for mapless wanderers.
Luckily when the train got to Redfern there was a sudden mass exodus of 18-to-23-year-olds. Bingo. So I followed the kiddos for about a kilometer through Aboriginal neighborhoods to the campus, and (magicalness upon magicalness) it just so happened that the very first building I decided to finally enter was in fact Brennen-McMacullen. Also known as the house for the Centre for Time. Also known as my new office building. Excellent.
Then the nervousness and awkwardness all began in earnest. Meeting new co-workers is always somewhat awkward, but this awkwardness is multiplied ten-fold with academicians. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I felt like the new kid on her first day at a new school, when it's already halfway through the term and all the other students are older, cooler, and way smarter than you (but at least not as good-looking. *joke*). Anyway, I spent the morning wanting to crawl into the nearest women's bathroom and hide in a stall for a few hours. Way to be adventurous, Elise.
I did actually go hide in a bathroom for a few minutes at one point. But, as always, I became immediately distracted and forgot to be nervous. This time it was because the toilet gave me two different flush options--one button with a circle that was half-colored, and the other with a fully colored circle. What the heck? My intuitive feeling was that the half-colored one was for a half-flush..you know, for more ....liquidy deposits. And that the other...well, you probably have similar intuition about that second button. But after experimenting for a while I was no closer to an answer. And I hardly thought it appropriate to bring up in discussion with Guido (the prof. I'm collaborating with) on the first day we'd met. Oh, and by the way, the toilets don't flush clockwise here (Coriolis forces only manifest themselves on scales larger than several meters. FYI.). They actually don't flush in any direction but down. It's a sudden SWOOSH, and all the water..and stuff..just drops. Straight down.
At some point I regained my composure and emerged from the bathroom, feeling ready to tackle more new stuff. Guido--Guido Bacciagaluppi--is a darling. I don't mean that in a patronizing way at all. The man is frighteningly brilliant-- a formidable scholar. But he's also Italian, and ends every word with an extra vowel sound, in just the way an Italian Simpson's character would. He also mentioned his newborn daughter half a dozen times, and at one point called his wife from our office and immediately started whispering because his wife had said the daughter was napping...on the other end of the line. Then he hung up the phone and launched into a discussion with me about decoherence interpretations of quantum theory. Awesome.
We went to a seminar given by Larry Shapiro on cognitive psychology. It was fascinating, and Peter Armstrong was there. I felt geeky sort of like people new to SBCRC do when they realize they've been singing "Nearer My God to Thee" next to Al Plantinga, Mike Rea, Mark Noll or George Marsden. I geeked out, in other words.
Then Guido and I left. At about 3 pm. I gotta say, I do enjoy the hours these Aussies keep (though Guido is not an Aussie, strictly speaking...I guess "When in Rome..."). I found an ATM and finally got some Australian buckaroos, found an electronics store and bought an electrical adapter (the one thing I didn't remember...which ain't bad, considering I packed mostly the morning I left). Then I sat at a small cafe and started reading Bill Bryson's Down Under, which Anjan had left for me on my desk--Anjan was the previous visiting scholar at Centre for Time, who also so happens to be a new friend of mine, and a brilliant young professor at some university in Canada somewhere.
I took the train back to Chatswood and navigated my way back to Arie and Ditta's-- about a 2 km walk. This walk was amazing. Not only because I'd just finished reading on the train the chapter in Bryson's book dealing with the various poisonous or otherwise treacherous creatures that live in Australia...but mostly because of the smells. New countries...have the most amazing sounds and smells. I walked mostly through residential areas, and at one point I smelled the most intoxicating flower. But it was distant, and dark, so I don't know what is was. But there were also lilacs and roses...and always, everywhere, the scent of Eucalyptus.
Arie, Ditta and I had the most delicious pumpkin soup for dinner, with sour cream that was thick and sweet. I approve. After Ditta and I talked about American politics for a while, and she told me about the Australian Christian Democratic Party, which she and Arie are active members of. She asked me why the U.S. holds primaries the way we do, and why politicians in America spend so much money. I wished Daynan were here...many people want to talk with me about American politics.
And now I must stop procrastinating and try to re-learn German before tomorrow. Guido wants me to translate a few letters of Einstein's and Schroedinger's. Giddyup.
-Elise-i-poo
p.s. Sorry this post is so diggidy-doggone long. Don't worry-- I'll settle down. And as soon as I get around to reading the manual for my new Canon Powershot SD870 IS, I'll post pictures. All in good Aussie time.
May 12, 2008
May 11, 2008
I'm here, I'm alive, happy mother's day, mom!
The ridiculous amounts of traipsing through four different airports today (and I employ the term "today" loosely) was, I think I'm somewhat saddened to admit, rather uneventful. Usually flying is more fun if there's some weirdo trying to pass his golf clubs off as a carry-on, or some older woman in neon clothes and a fanny sack screaming at the gate attendants, or some little kid making unabashed comments about the coolness of jets every 15 minutes during the flight (dude, I totally agree with you).
But nothing really happened. Which is good...I guess. There are only four events I really remember:
Event 1. In which I blurt something out that should've stayed in my head.
Location: O'Hare airport
Time: 14:45:03 Central
Waiting to board my first flight of the "day" I sit down next to a mid-30s-ish business man, who's engaged in an intense examination of a very tiny Sudoku book.
I stare at him for a while, somewhat quizzically, and then blurt out (so that everyone in the area turns to look):
"Wow, are you doing those with just your brain?"
He laughs. No, he's reading the instructions; he shows me.
Darn. It would have been so much more interesting if he was just solving them with his brain. I mean, that's some kind of impressive. And at least I could have then challenge him to play brain tic-tac-toe with me. You know, given his affinity for doing things with just his brain.
Event 2. In which I get annoyed at Murphy's Law once again.
Location: Somewhere over Chicago's western suburbs (Hi, Brett and Julie! "I waved but you didn't look)
Time: Heck if I know
As soon as we're in the air, the guy in front of ME, and ONLY me, decides to tilt his chair back to the max. Thank you, Mr. Inconsiderate of the Tall Person Directly Behind You. It slays me that the other two people in his row, whose seats were in front of two relatively petite women, left their seats straight up for the entire flight.
At least I had a window seat.
Event 3. In which I fall asleep on the plane with the window shade open, and wake up with the window shade closed.
Location: Somewhere over Nebraska. I could tell because even the atmosphere felt like it was bored.
Time: Later than Event 2
This event remains somewhat mysterious to me. Did I close it with my face whilst sleeping? Or did the person next to me feel compelled to reach across my awkwardly cramped, lanky person deep into a dream about unicorns and Werner Heisenberg, to shut the window right next to my head? Or did the steward come down the aisle, notice my window shade pen, decide that this was not appropriate given the brightness of the outside and the fact that everyone around me was trying to watch a re-run of The Office on glaring screens 12 rows away...and reach awkwardly across all three of us to shut my window?
I guess I'll never know. But it brings up all sorts of serious and troubling issues about airplane window etiquette that I'm not sure I'm prepared to deal with (I have window seats on all my flights. Because let's face it-- my inner child (which is perhaps somewhat less inner than most people's) would rather be a little cramped for leg room and get to watch the jet do its ridiculously cool thing, than sit in the aisle and fall asleep with my elbow jutting out into the path of those pointy, mean beverage carts).
I reopened the window shade. The Office was over by then, anyway.
Event 4. In which I start to feel somewhat nervous about this trip.
Location: Somewhere still over Nebraska
Time: After I am awakened by Event 3 and immediately become bored (see "location")
16:42:24 [Beginning of pseudo-existential crisis]. Internal monologue: "What the heck am I doing, going to a continent by myself? Holy crap, I'm not going to know anyone and I don't know what these people will expect from me I'm just a twinkie grad student I can't do this ahhhhhhh too much pressure!!!!"
16:42:25 I notice something shiny out the window
16:42:32 I ask the girl seated next to me if she'd like to play brain tic-tac-toe. She doesn't respond. She must not speak English.
________________
The remainder of the trip went relatively smoothly-- I got an entire row to myself on the 747 flight from San Francisco to Sydney. And at one point I woke up, and the flight attendants had left two (two!) meals for me. Sweetness. I'll post more tomorrow, from the "Uni". (Only geeks call it "The University". I learned this the hard way). I'll also try to post pics of the home I'm staying in. Lovely. 110 years old. The family-- also lovely. More later.
But nothing really happened. Which is good...I guess. There are only four events I really remember:
Event 1. In which I blurt something out that should've stayed in my head.
Location: O'Hare airport
Time: 14:45:03 Central
Waiting to board my first flight of the "day" I sit down next to a mid-30s-ish business man, who's engaged in an intense examination of a very tiny Sudoku book.
I stare at him for a while, somewhat quizzically, and then blurt out (so that everyone in the area turns to look):
"Wow, are you doing those with just your brain?"
He laughs. No, he's reading the instructions; he shows me.
Darn. It would have been so much more interesting if he was just solving them with his brain. I mean, that's some kind of impressive. And at least I could have then challenge him to play brain tic-tac-toe with me. You know, given his affinity for doing things with just his brain.
Event 2. In which I get annoyed at Murphy's Law once again.
Location: Somewhere over Chicago's western suburbs (Hi, Brett and Julie! "I waved but you didn't look)
Time: Heck if I know
As soon as we're in the air, the guy in front of ME, and ONLY me, decides to tilt his chair back to the max. Thank you, Mr. Inconsiderate of the Tall Person Directly Behind You. It slays me that the other two people in his row, whose seats were in front of two relatively petite women, left their seats straight up for the entire flight.
At least I had a window seat.
Event 3. In which I fall asleep on the plane with the window shade open, and wake up with the window shade closed.
Location: Somewhere over Nebraska. I could tell because even the atmosphere felt like it was bored.
Time: Later than Event 2
This event remains somewhat mysterious to me. Did I close it with my face whilst sleeping? Or did the person next to me feel compelled to reach across my awkwardly cramped, lanky person deep into a dream about unicorns and Werner Heisenberg, to shut the window right next to my head? Or did the steward come down the aisle, notice my window shade pen, decide that this was not appropriate given the brightness of the outside and the fact that everyone around me was trying to watch a re-run of The Office on glaring screens 12 rows away...and reach awkwardly across all three of us to shut my window?
I guess I'll never know. But it brings up all sorts of serious and troubling issues about airplane window etiquette that I'm not sure I'm prepared to deal with (I have window seats on all my flights. Because let's face it-- my inner child (which is perhaps somewhat less inner than most people's) would rather be a little cramped for leg room and get to watch the jet do its ridiculously cool thing, than sit in the aisle and fall asleep with my elbow jutting out into the path of those pointy, mean beverage carts).
I reopened the window shade. The Office was over by then, anyway.
Event 4. In which I start to feel somewhat nervous about this trip.
Location: Somewhere still over Nebraska
Time: After I am awakened by Event 3 and immediately become bored (see "location")
16:42:24 [Beginning of pseudo-existential crisis]. Internal monologue: "What the heck am I doing, going to a continent by myself? Holy crap, I'm not going to know anyone and I don't know what these people will expect from me I'm just a twinkie grad student I can't do this ahhhhhhh too much pressure!!!!"
16:42:25 I notice something shiny out the window
16:42:32 I ask the girl seated next to me if she'd like to play brain tic-tac-toe. She doesn't respond. She must not speak English.
________________
The remainder of the trip went relatively smoothly-- I got an entire row to myself on the 747 flight from San Francisco to Sydney. And at one point I woke up, and the flight attendants had left two (two!) meals for me. Sweetness. I'll post more tomorrow, from the "Uni". (Only geeks call it "The University". I learned this the hard way). I'll also try to post pics of the home I'm staying in. Lovely. 110 years old. The family-- also lovely. More later.
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