Making a Life

It is always interesting to move to a new place and start a life there.  What happens to the life you were just leading in another country?  Does it stop?  No, it just changes.  I feel very grateful for my family and friends.  There are two choices inside feeling gratitude for the ones who are not physically with you:  you can feel sad, or you can feel happy that they are loving you, and that makes them present with you.  I do a bit of both.  Right now I’m swinging more toward the energy that I’ve already created in my world living in the States; making friends, laughing with women, going on adventures scary, new, and mundane. 

Recently I’ve had wonderful experiences with my friend, Carolyn.  She spoke a homily at her church so Daniel and I went to support her Saturday night.  That evening since Carolyn’s message was about community we happened to connect with a lot of different people.  Finally Peter told her she did too good a job with her homily.  He told us to get out!  Haha, who doesn’t love a priest who kicks you out of church?  Well, I do.  We had dinner with Carolyn, her cousin Sandra who is also from India and Sandra’s husband, Thomas who is from Sweden.  I did not recognize his accent at all, which surprised me.  I had a client in Eugene from Sweden so I fancy that I know the accent.  Well, Tom moved to Canada when he was a small lad and grew up there.  Then he moved to Brisbane with is wife, Sandra who he met in Toronto.  (I’m telling you – I almost never meet anyone who was born here.) 

It was the middle of the Greek festival so we ate at a Greek restaurant in West End and it was marvellous.  The food was all right, the company was great.  The five of us talked for two hours and then decided to go to a coffee shop to finish our conversation, where we spent another hour and a half.  We didn’t get home until eleven.  (That’s late for us, even on a Saturday night!)

We talked a lot on a multitude of subjects including the countries we’ve all lived in; the differences, the similarities and funny stories about language misinterpretations.  The best one was when Sandra moved to California when she was college aged.  Her neighbours were hosting a block party and asked her to bring a “dish”.  This was a confusing request for a young woman from India, but she obliged and brought a few dishes to the gathering.  This dishes she brought, were of course, empty, clean, and in a nice stack.  She was astonished and embarrassed and we laughed at her linguistic blunder. 

Tom and Sandie have since invited us to dinner at their house to meet their grown children.  I jokingly asked Sandra if she’d like me to bring a “dish”.  She pushed my arm and I thought, “Thankfully humour exists everywhere.  You just gotta know your audience.”  

This week was slightly unfortunate for me because I got a bit sick.  I had to cancel a massage appointment and reschedule three sessions!  I do not like being unable to do what I want to do.  I tend to push through things, even if it’s not what’s best for me.  The one thing I give myself space for is my business; I’m very specific about being in a clean and clear place for clients.  I don’t let myself suck at my job.  So I’ll see everyone next week and all will be well.  People are generous, especially when you’re feeling slightly under the weather.

We’ve been so lucky to have more than a month of solid sunshine.  Welcome to winter, Durrant Duo!  Why, thank you, Brisbane Australia!  Of course, winter technically does not begin until June first and then it did rain yesterday for fifteen minutes.  After which I took a walk and got too warm and wished I had worn my flip flops.  We’ve also spent some time in our bathing suits at streets beach so I think we’ll survive the winter weather here.  The water was freezing there, or so we heard everyone saying, I was quite content just lying warmly on my towel talking to Daniel.  He’s been extremely busy preparing for finals at university, and finally two weeks ago is when we took a couple hours break to enjoy the sun. 

A few days ago I joined my friend April for an evening of kayaking on the Brisbane River.  We met at the Goodwill Bridge and walked together into Kangaroo point since it was dark.  It was slightly cold when the wind blew, though I wasn’t wearing a jacket.  Then it was downright cold as we stood outside watching our guide teach us how to use the little boat.  He mentioned three times that we might fall out of our craft which was my biggest fear.  April and I kept exchanging forlorn glances and whiney squeaks. 

Finally we lined up to descend the ladder fifteen feet to the river water where our kayaks floated, wet and ready for us.  I leaned over to watch how people were getting in as this was “the most difficult part” as described by our guides.  As I was watching a woman manoeuvre like a champ the guide asked April and I where we were from.  I answered him, “I’m from the States.”  And April replied, “I’m a local.”  He looked at me puzzled and said, “The United States?  You sound like you’re from England!”  I just shrugged and said, “Oh.  I’ve been there. . .”  This confusion over my speech no longer surprises me.  Then he said to April, “I love how you got really into your thick Aussie accent when you said ‘I’m a local’!” 

My friend graciously let me go first at my request, and right before it was my turn to enter the water she asked if I’d rather just stay on land, sit under the heater and drink wine.  It made me laugh and I told her I was up for anything!  This will be the part of my story where I will brag: I did not fall out of my boat!  I got myself into the seat and paddled around waiting for April to join me and tried to ignore that my bum was completely soaking wet.  I hollered up to April to be prepared for it which made our guide apologize.  It didn’t seem to be difficult to get myself moving, though I did worry about my friend who seemed to be confused about which way to put the paddle in the water.  All of a sudden everyone was in the water and they all took off.  So, we followed suit, laughing at our meagre skills..  This is where I am not bragging: children, grandmothers, everyone in the water passed us.  At one point I asked April how many metres behind everyone she thought we were to which she answered, “At least 300.” 

Once the guide at the back of the group slowed down and gave April some rowing pointers.  I didn’t see her again until the end.  It was beautiful on the water though, much less cold and all the lights on the huge buildings and bridges were neat to look at.  I also took time to gaze at the stars that were out in bright fullness.  Finally I could tell that our group had stopped under one the bridges and I was pleased that they were either waiting for me, or one of the gentlemen guides was giving information about the area.  About fifteen feet from them they all took off again and I had no break to rest.  Damn them!  At the point where we all turned around I found myself at the front of the group.  This is where I saw my friend and I shouted to her, “April, look at me!  I’m in front!  For the next two minutes.”  In the end I was slightly glad to be behind everybody because as everyone passed me they also ran into my boat several times.  Now I can say that I’ve done some bumper kayaking.  Finally the guide who thought I was English told me how I could row differently.  I told him that as soon as I began to get my stride someone would either hit me, or I would smash my own hand between the ore and the side of my boat.  After about thirty seconds of him telling me that I was doing a good job, he thought it would be funny to ram into my kayak.  Damn him!  He thought it was hilarious, and I went about trying to find my rhythm again. 

Further along the way back I caught up to two young ladies.  I managed to pass one and stay in the middle, vowing to at least keep one of them behind me.  After an hour or being more or less mediocre at something, it gets a little tiresome.  They were friends and talking about the concert we could hear happening on the other side of the river at one of Brisbane’s many colosseums.  I asked who was playing and one of them told me it was the Backstreet Boys.  I said, “It sounds like a girl.”  And the same young lady answered me, “Well, they always sort of sounded like girls.”  Ah, true.  The closer we got, however, I realised that I knew who the singer was and I was happy to report to them that it was Florence and the Machine!  So I rowed along the river, singing and enjoying myself.

I was so thankful to see the ladder upon our return, knowing it was over, and I did my best to line up to get out!  A teenaged girl cut in front of me which was annoying because, one that is rude, and two April was already out and I wanted to join her.  When it was my turn again, a City Cat drove by and caused huge waves to bounce me about.  Damn it!  I was desperately holding onto the ladder, soaking my jacket, trying not to tip over, and pathetically cursing.  I had already attached my ore to the kayak and had to just wait out the swift rise and fall of dirty river water.  Slowly I made my way up the ladder; my feet were freezing and therefore hard to feel.  As I reached the top, the young guide said to me, “Hey, you did pretty good, for an American.”  I simply thanked him and quickly moved inside the building.  Upon entering I realised I still had on my life vest so I had to run back out into the cold and return it. 

We changed our clothes for dinner, which is when I noticed that my shirts and jacket had gotten so wet and I didn’t have anything else to wear.  Outside there was a slew of barbequed meat for dinner.  Only six of us had kayak and dinner tickets and luckily the people that stayed offered to make room for me and April at the head of the table, directly under the outdoor heater.  There was a green salad and a potato salad, so I had enough to eat.  Also, they offered us wine and beer so I felt well taken care of. 

The two young girls who I’d paddled between were in our dinner party -they are currently living here from New Zealand- and they sung along with me to Florence’s music.  She was right across from where we ate so it was like we got a free concert, too.  The other two people at the table were a young newly married couple, the man from Scotland and the girl from England.  Everyone was in high spirits and we had a lively discussion about travel, food, and politics. 

And then there was lamington.  Lamington is a sponge cake, dipped in chocolate and then rolled through coconut.  Australia has an official day to celebrate this dessert, July 21^st, and Lamington was named one of Australia’s favourite icons by the National Trust of Queensland in 2006.  I’m happy to celebrate awesome cake with this country.