NZ: It begins...

 You may have forgotten this is my blog as I've not posted in a very long time.   Not wanting to dwell on the past, I will say this and then we can get on to the fun bits:  the last year (since leaving PNG) was very hard and I honestly did not feel that any of it was worth sharing; the death of any sort of writer I had become.  Looking forward, for everyone who reads this, I hope that you are always doing and saying things altogether unexpected, and that you always lead a life that you feel is worth writing about, even if just for yourself.

Okay, great! The feelings part is over. 

So, last you heard, my journal and I had narrowly survived a seafaring expedition in the middle of a cyclone in Papua New Guinea.   Gee whiz guys, thanks for checking in on me.   After finishing things up in PNG, I then moved back to America, completed my Master’s degree, and had a really great time* which brings us succinctly to the present.

An Interesting Day

 When I turned on the car to head to work on July 28th, Jackson Browne’s The Loadout/Stay was on the radio.  I laughed at the time – well which is it? Packing up or staying here?  After months of waiting to hear whether my PhD application was successful, the committee was making their final decision sometime this week.  Weird Thing #1.

The best part of working at a summer camp is that when you arrive in the morning, there are instantly at least 100 mini-humans with all of their mini-human dramas to distract you for an entire day.  That worked well to quiet my anxieties, until a text message arrived in the afternoon.  My parents were traveling through Lower Sussex, Delaware and saw an LSD sticker – it could mean the acronym for the place or the drug, but in this case I knew they were seeing their own mysterious signs that day – these were in reference to the initials and nickname of my potential doctoral advisor.  Weird Thing #2.

With the time difference to New Zealand, the work day there begins during the evening here in Philadelphia.  If anyone was going to contact me about the decision, it would be some time after I’d left work.  I hopped in the car and this time on the radio as I headed home was Rod Stewart’s Tonight’s the Night.  Weird Thing #3.

Letting my slight inclination toward impatience govern me while I sat by the phone waiting for an email (funny how we do that now?), I logged on to the application portal out of habit when I opened my browser.  And there it was. 

Offer Accepted.

An Adventure I’m Arranging

 Like the best journeys, there will be considerable ironing-out of details over the next few weeks and months, but this I can tell you for sure:

•  I’ll be living in Dunedin, New Zealand, a coastal town on the South Western side of NZ’s South Island.  Interestingly enough, a place which takes its name from the Celtic word for Edinburgh – a city at the opposite side of the world which I’ve also studied at.  I am very excited for some of the cultural experiences Dunedin has to offer down the track.
•  The University of Otago has granted me a Doctoral Scholarship with full funding and a living stipend to complete my PhD in Science Communication.  The Centre for Science Communication at the uni is the only of it’s kind in New Zealand, and a rare species still throughout the world. 
•  Not sure what science communication is?  Check these resources out.
•  The project I’ll be working on is truly a fascinating amalgamation of my passions for science, education, the outdoors, and film.  Working with Dr. Lloyd Spencer Davis, I will be designing an outreach program that teaches these tech-savvy secondary students how to make their own natural history documentaries.  We’re basically getting them interested in science by making them science communicators.  Learning! Science! Action!
• Oh yeah, the documentaries will be based on NZ National Parks.  So yeah.  I get to teach kids how to make movies about one of the most dramatic and beautiful landscapes in the world.**

Will post more soon about preparing to move to this incredible country (with a quick stop in Australia to see all my bogan friends on the way)!  For now, I hope to enjoy my last few weeks of fast internet and 2-day shipping and give thanks to all of you folks who’ve supported me in getting here.  With this adventure being such a hybrid of all my skills and experiences, no one has played a part too small in helping me find this path.  

Lots of love!

-Kaitlyn

*See Paragraph 1

**If this made you want to dance, that makes two of us. 

The Last Page

About an hour ago, I wrote the last page in my travel journal.  It’s just a book?  It’s just a book.  I keep saying that to myself, but for the last 60 minutes I’ve been carrying it around the house, me staring at it, it staring at me, both of us completely unsure what to do with the other now.

My first reflex is to feel that it comes at an awkward time, I’m not quite at the end of anything, nor am I ready to start something completely new.  The same sort of feeling as if I had a bad day at work, only to come home and be greeted with my diary breaking up with me.  Why?  Why now?  14 months of self discovery and you leave me 5 pages early!?  (I had sadly forgotten I used a few pages at the back to make a few drawings and lists etc. so the end was truly altogether unexpected, cursed blog title).

My second reflex is to acknowledge that I have a habit of reading into things.  A close friend of mine once staying, “Geez Kaitlyn, you read into everything.”  I read into that.  It bothered me for days.  Even with all that in mind, it still feels like there’s something about the ending of this thing that needs to be reflected upon.

• 488 days ago I write my first entry in Germany. 
• On Day 67 I started writing in cursive for no apparent reason, and never stopped.  
• The last time I kept a record of the day was Day 315 and I was in the departure lounge at JFK airport heading home for Christmas.  
• I didn’t write for the entire two months I was home.  
• On one page, I write three separate entries spanning the events of 4 days.  
• On another day, I write 6 pages in one go.  
• Some days I wrote my location, usually if it was the first day of being somewhere else.  
• There are 4 different countries, but countless towns listed.  
• With only pages left to go, the diary suffers a bit of water damage on the completely soaked wild boat ride out to Karkar, not too bad, it could have been a lot worse.  

I flick through now laughing, crying, shaking my head at past Kaitlyn and everything she’s reading too far into.  She's learned so much and yet so obviously never enough.  And now that the reflexes have settled, I can see the thing for what it is.

This journal, it had a definite start and a definite end.  And all things being equal, as a human, so do I, so do we all.  But this isn’t the end of anything, the destination, the X on the treasure map.

Having recently survived the aforementioned ridiculous seafaring adventure, I can tell you that those who argue whether its about “the journey” or “the destination” must have never traveled in a cyclone.  Trust me, when you’re getting pelted with saltwater for 3 hours, you’re not really sitting there embracing the journey or the destination.  It’s about the bloody ship surviving to tell of either of them.

There are good days and bad days, some things will blow holes in you other things will rot your hull.  You’ll inevitably make a lot of repairs, but if you invest your time and effort, you’ll see that really they’re improvements.  The things you learn, these are your sails.  And if you never stop chasing yourself, you’ll be amazed where you’ll go.

This ship was nought to me, nor I to her

Yet I pursued her with a lover’s look;

This ship to all the rest did I prefer:

When will she turn and whither?  She will brook

No tarrying; where she comes the winds must stir:

On went she, and due north her journey took.

-William Wordsworth

Jackson

A bit of a side blog here today, for no other reason than there is no one more deserving in my eyes, and I've got the time.

Not so long ago I wrote a rather manic post about getting over the fear of sharing treasured books with other people. A troublesome uncorking event, as anyone who received Christmas presents from me will attest to.  With your bookshelves now busting, let us move to your music collections.

For the same reasons - fear of something you adore being cast aside - I always get a bit nervous sharing my truly favourite artists.  Even more so than books, in my life when it has come to musical taste I've come up against quite a bit of, “Who?” or “Can we put something else on?” or my personal favourite, “You'd get on with my Grandma, she loves Jackson Browne too.”  

Anyway, its any easy question right? What's your favourite band? What kinda music do you like?

Deep breath.

Well, I would get on with your grandma, because to me, Jackson Browne is the duck's guts. He's got a classic-folky-rock-acoustic-with-some-occasional-killer-piano sorta thing going on. And that's just the music side of things. I could just as easily say he's my favourite poet, writer, philosopher.  His music is undoubtedly pleasing to my auditory nervous system.  Like many of my favourite things though, it simultaneously stimulates the mind, making it unforgettable. 

My first concert? Jackson Browne (in a baby carrier). Snuck out of school and drove to Paris for a concert? Jackson Browne. High school yearbook quote? Jackson Browne.  Breakup? Late for the Sky. Ready to get over it? I'm Alive. You and your partner need to find 'your song'? Rosie.*

Jackson Browne is so awesome, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame by The Boss himself.

If you're ever inclined, just listen to some JB. And I mean really listen. The music ain't bad, but the lyrics, they'll move you.

Looking through some photographs I found inside a drawer, 

I was taken by a photograph of you.

Fountain of Sorrow

Just...let that one sit with you for awhile. 

Given this chance, I can't even come up with a favourite song. There are so many which I return to at different times and fall in love with all over again.  Recently though, I came across an Early Days of Jackson Browne album, a live recording from 1971. Its pretty great, quite a few shaky versions of later hits that were then just in their infancy. There were a few I'd never heard before, and I've since found out it was because they never got recorded on a studio album, a shame I reckon.  

I'll share one of those with you instead, Shadow Dream Song.   I heard it for the first time the other day, and it's been haunting me (in a good way) ever since, feeling some sort of connection with it.  He was 23 in that recording, the same age I am now.

And y'know, if you don't like the music, that's your deal. I'll never be more honest in saying, I'm sorry for you. At the very least, enjoy some comedy.  From his live solo acoustic album, the intro to The Night Inside Me contains what is perhaps my favourite story ever told (starts ~1:30 in).

Take it easy, folks.

Into a dancer you have grown

From a seed somebody else has thrown

Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own

And somewhere between the time you arrive

And the time you go

May lie a reason you were alive

But you'll never know

* Gotcha.  "He met a really beautiful girl, and that's where the sad part comes in."  If there was one particular moment of losing my innocence, it was realizing what this song was about.   

Chapter 4: The Only Pidgin Lesson You’ll Ever Need

One benefit of being on an island out in the middle of the ocean, with a house all to yourself, and a lack of entertainment, is that you really do have a lot of time to do whatever the heck you’d like.  

Before you get any sordid ideas, I’ll tell you that sitting down with all the fans on, a beer, and my free Tokpisin Grammar Workbook* has been about as wild as it gets and a total blast.  And I say ‘total blast’ because there is something inherently nerdy at my core which loves filling out workbooks.  ...I don’t really have any insights on this behaviour except to confirm for you that people are indeed very strange.

At my workbook-party-for-one last night, I started chapter four and became suddenly quite sad.  Why?  Well, the chapter is set out with a big bit of dialogue in Pidgin, followed by an English translation, which you then do exercises on for the rest of the chapter.  Cracked open Chapter 4 and was presented with the dialogue as follows:

Biam bia.

Biam bia hia.

Biam bia long hap.

Biam bia long klab.

Inap yu biam me bia?

Biam bia bilong me, plis.

So I’m a bit upset, because I think this may be the end of my studies.  Because once you've got these, what else is there that you’d really need to say?

Buy beer.

Buy beer here.

Buy beer over there.

Buy beer at the club.

Can you buy beer for me?

Buy me beer, please. 

*Thanks Peace Corps!  Since its free, I advise you to go check out Dana (and tell her to blog more often) who is actually in the Peace Corps and doing amazing things, likely as a result of taking her language classes much more seriously. 

Wanderlust

Should you find yourself at your flight gate, traveling alone, to a country notorious for violence, crime, and treating women poorly, a moment of hesitation means you're doing things right.  Once you embrace the reaction for what it is - just fear - its time to go. Put on your big girl hat, listen to your funky playlist, and get on the plane. You've got this, all on your own. But if you don't, go for it anyway knowing that there's always people to help, send money, or bail you out of Papua New Guinean prison. 

In PNG the cities are a bit dirty and dangerous, and especially daunting for a young lady traveling by herself. I always employ my Dad's “Look like you know where you're going” approach to seem like a local, but there's only so much you can do about being the only sweaty, blonde, white lady whose a foot taller than everyone in the airport. I think the politically correct way to put this is, my favorite part of Port Moresby was my flight in.

On arrival in Madang where I met my new boss, Barbara, the tension melted away a bit. Its amazing how beer, food, and a place to sleep makes all the anxiety go away. Man, Australia rubbed off on me.

The next day we headed by speedboat to Karkar Island, the location of the plantation owned by the family I'm now working for. Before I had left, my Dad and I tried looking at Karkar on Google Earth to see what we could see, but we had a hard time finding the villages that I'd heard about.

It didn't take long to figure out why.

The majority of the ~60,000 people on Karkar live in these villages made of nothing more than grass huts, without running water or electricity. There are a couple clinics, hospitals, and schools with a bit sturdier infrastructure scattered around. The only Western style homes are those on the plantations, of which there are about half a dozen on the island.

The family lives in a sort of fenced in compound with 3 houses, manicured lawns, and private beach access. I have a completely modern cottage inside the fence with a big bathroom, fans in every room, internet, and a fridge full of healthy foods (rice and beer).

Its really my first experience with a class system. I by no means feel superior, but the division is just part of the culture.  I'm currently learning Pidgin and hoping that speaking with locals in their language might open things up a bit. And for everyone watching from home whose been a bit worried, know that my daily activities are planned by navigating what is and isn't safe *sigh of relief*.

In the midst of all the craziness of my first week here, I received the unfortunate news that my grandfather passed away. He wrote extensively about having the Wanderlust when he was young, an inherited trait I reckon. I don't really believe in heaven, but he did which is what matters. It's probably got more women to flirt with than a nursing home or a hospital bed, and at the very least, it makes me happy to know that from up there he can watch his granddaughter on an adventure like his.

Back in the Saddle

Leaving Australia

Hands down, the most difficult place I've ever left. I've loved places and jobs and people before, but there was something different about this one. Perhaps that it was all of those things at once, plus falling in love with the person I got to be there. I can only hope I find that again.

And those Watsons. I mean, when they took me to the airport they willingly went through airport security just to sit with me until I boarded. That's love folks. We hugged goodbye, handed my ticket to the lady, and all sort of laughed when she offered us all tissues. Then I walked away.

On a hike at KataTjuta, our guide told us “Don't turn around until you're at the top. The view hits you so much stronger.” With that in mind, I walked nearly all the way across the tarmac and only when I was nearly at the plane, turned and looked over my shoulder for one last look at the family that I'd become a part of.

Well, the view did hit me. There it was. Windows made of one-way glass. But they could see me and maybe they were crying, maybe they were waving, but my time to know those things was over all the sudden. I didn't lose them, they weren't gone. You can never have another person, they are never yours. You only have what you share, and if you're lucky, you'll share many things for a long time.

Anyway...that's the back story of the time I cried for an hour on a flight with a bunch of miners and businessmen and stewardesses repeatedly asking me if I was okay.

American Dream

Since we're going for honesty here, I'll lay it out for you. America does not care if you like it, and that makes it sort of hard to love.

I've absolutely loved seeing so many old friends and family. But it does feel a bit like being on tour, which can be uncomfortable. An outsider in a place you thought was home. I'm sure I'll warm to this place, but for now I can tell she knows I'm still drifting, and won't show her true beauties to me until I make a stronger commitment to this land.

For quite a bit of my time back here I've been fairly depressed. I'd say it's due to a mix of Vitamin D deficiency, not having dogs to play with, and according to Sad Kaitlyn the "loss" of "like everything ever" that apparently happened "like really fast".  She's a bit dramatic.  People don't like to talk about it, which is funny, cause I reckon almost everyone goes through it at some point. I'm by no means an expert, nor have I ever had professional advice on the matter. But for people out there having a hard time dealing with some sort of emotional event I offer these tips if you want 'em:

• Time will make it better, and a need for immediate gratification will not.
• Your feelings are probably caused by your heart and/or your brain being a bit hurt. So, it may come as a surprise, but those two things may not be the best tools for making you feel better.
• There is nothing like an old friend and a new perspective.
• Nothing looks hopeful when you're lying in bed.
• Cry. Let it go. Take a shower. Cry while you sing Let It Go while taking a shower. And at the point when you're thinking, “I haven't cried in like 3 days!” Guess what? You're gonna cry, and that's okay.

That's a good starter pack, if you ever need the extended edition, never hesitate to talk to me. And that's another thing. Hello, everyone listening? Think right now about something that's troubling you. Got it? Wasn't hard, was it? Everyone has something in their life that lies on the scale of suckiness at any given time.  Coworkers, High Blood Pressure, a crazy daughter who keeps crying and singing Let It Go in the shower. Sometimes they want to talk about it, so it doesn't hurt to ask. And sometimes just distracting them with your friendship brings them a happiness they forgot they were capable of. Go love on some people, it can't hurt.

Its Happening

Originally I was heading out to Pittsburgh for a graduate school interview for the weekend and was going to return to Maryland on Sunday and have a whole week of packing and planning for PNG. Well, my cousin Mary is way too much fun so I stayed there until Wednesday.

This led to having the craziest Thursday of my life. I made a packing list. I did laundry. I applied for and got a visitor visa for Australia because I completely forgot that you need one if you want to leave the airport during the 24h between your flights. I got immunizations for Tetanus, Influenza, and Typhoid fever. I started taking anti-malarial medication (which may cause weird dreams and hallucinations! I don't know why my doctor said this like it was a bad thing!) And most importantly, I got Seasons 4 and 5 of Downton Abbey for the four day plane journey that's coming up.  

You think you're going to be ready and be calm and cool and collected. And then unexpectedly, it's happening. Before you've made the right Embassy contacts and gathered the appropriate clothing, before you've got the right bug repellent and replacement camera batteries, before your still mending heart and brain are entirely ready to throw themselves into something new...You're excited.  You're going on an adventure.  You're back in the saddle, 

The Next Adventure(s)

Less than a week left here at ol' Carnarvon. The thought of leaving is unreal, I haven't fallen in love with a place so much in my whole life. More on this later though because if I get into it now we'll all be crying and blubbering and I haven't even had to say goodbye yet.

This little post serves as a dual announcement!

The first is that I will be returning to America for most of December and January! The folks are living in Maryland now, but I've already been planning quite a few road trips around the East Coast and if I haven't talked to you already, please get in touch so we can hang out!  All this pending that I even make it with the wet season at Carnarvon (trapped in), snow storms in America (stuck out), and the line of questioning at customs regarding my whereabouts the last few years (held in secret location).

The second is that I will be returning to this side of the planet for the first few months of 2015! I've taken a new governess position with a family who own a plantation on Karkar Island, Papua New Guinea. It'll be hot, it'll be beautiful, and there is an active volcano so what can go wrong!?

After that plans are a bit...undetermined. But what have we learned this year? That's okay, the unexpected is often best.

Its actually quite funny, I'm more nervous about returning to the States than going to PNG. Its been...over 2 years since my last stint in the old mothercountry. And, well, I've changed. Its easy to go new places and have new experiences and become this beautiful new person when you're out in the world on your own.

But how do you take that person home?

I've got about 50 hours of travel in the next week, so I'll let you know if I come up with any answers.

Books! 'Tis A Dull and Endless Strife

Recently I've discovered that among all its finer qualities, I love reading specifically because it demands all of your attention. That in a world where you can sit on the internet scrolling through mindless crap for hours, its very admirable and takes a special dedication to even sit down and read for pleasure for 20 minutes.

And I know there are those out there who read while they do this and that and the other thing. I am not one of these people. I have come to accept that in my life I will never be the cute interesting girl reading a book at the cafe. I am the girl who is trying to stuff an entire roll of sushi in her mouth because its falling apart and I only have one hand and this chapter is really intense so I can't put the book down and I wonder how long I can leave this imitation crab on my shirt before it stains*.

So you want to know what I'm reading!? Yay! Great! Sharing!  *Internal screaming*  Well, let me tell you that I do tend to have this irrational sort of fear about suggesting things to people. I mean, if its something that I really love, I'm just worried people won't like it and that will just break my heart.  So y'know, go easy on me, I'm taking big steps here people.   Deep breath.

For awhile now, I've been hooked on the poetry.  I like that sometimes I don't understand whats going on in a poem, but somehow it gives you all these feelings. How do they do that? The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, perfect example...I lie in wait for the day that I just start reciting that out of nowhere and someone recognizes it. Other favorites are a pair which makes it difficult to stay in the schoolroom all day considering the nature of our surroundings - The Tables Turned (Oh, the irony...) and The Moment (If you also get chills when reading the latter, I love you a bit).

Novel-wise I just finished The Bridges of Madison County in a day.  I can see why it was in the Lonely Old Lady book section (why I was there is a different story), very insightful about the love and the feelings, not quite inspired to go see the real bridges in Iowa again, though. Sorry Mum, once is enough for some things. But I do imagine it'd be a small sort of accomplishment to say that I've been to Grundy Center, Iowa twice in my life. Alas, we can't have it all.

So because of that same fear I mentioned earlier, and the notion that everyone must be thus afflicted, I also tend to take suggestions given to me very seriously just in case the act of suggesting this book means that you are indeed bearing your soul.  So to the two lovely blokes that suggested them, I'm finally making a dent in Clan of the Cave Bear (its like evolutionary fiction...awesome!) and the autobiography of an Australian man called A Fortunate Life. Such an amazing and tragic story. If I had his insight and outlook on life my autobiography would probably be called Holy Crap, How Could I Have Ever Complained About Anything, Its All Pretty Much Candy and Sunshine.

So go spend some time with a book.  And if you can handle it, tell me what you're reading or send me a poem or suggest something awesome**.

*Not very long. It stains immediately. Inspired by true events.

**Do not send me cat videos.

25 Insights From My Sad Handwritten Book

Just recently I've passed the halfway mark of my time here. Six months since landing down under and I'll be honest, there are days where I forget I ever lived somewhere else, and there are days where that first ride into Carnarvon seems so close I could touch it. In consideration of this special occasion, I've decided to let you all in on a little treat.

Up until now, every diary I've ever had has two entries. One about how excited I am to start a new diary. And another a few years later about how I'm really sorry I didn't stick with it. But, good news! I'm finally seeing something through! What this means for you is that by the time something makes it up here on the blog, its been written in the diary, mulled over in my mind, discussed with a few people, written on the computer, and edited four or five times. On this special day though, I offer you a few glimpses into those fresh, straight off the paper, live from the scene reports...plus a few very poor doodles when I'm feeling artistically inclined:

Day -6:  But this time before leaving is hard. Whenever I look at someone a huge part of me is aware that I only have a few days left to see them. And everyone seems to see the same when they look at me.

Day 1:  Its so f*cking hot here.

Day 3:  Made a good new friend, she said something I think I'll keep in mind the rest of my life: “You should travel three times in your life. By yourself, with your other, and with your children.”

Day 11:  The evolution/creation question came up at dinner...Jess asked “But which is true?”...It's hard for me sometimes to portray the argument unbiasedly. Some people think the world is too perfect to have occurred by chance. I think its perfect because it did.

Day 29:  We have a new saying..."Monday is the new Friday at Carnarvon." Sadly Tuesday at 7 AM isn't quite the same as Saturday afternoon...For as nice as we've been with each other, nothing bonds folks like getting' a bit sloshed together. *Chris loves to talk...Alison tends to be more of a listener. 

Day 68:  Maybe when you've had a life like mine where the most unthinkable things have happened, you have a hard time separating the dreams from the dawn. I wish I could say I was always practical or realistic...I seem to be in some walks of life.

Day 74:  Dad called last night and he sounded a bit lonely. I really miss him...he's one of the few people I can just sit and chat with for ages.

Day 76:   But maybe there is more. More that I could be doing with my skills...I guess sometimes I'm just too romantic about science.

Day 82:  I hate that sinking feeling though...when you know something is going wrong and you're not sure what to grasp onto.

Day 84:   I do find that more often than before I feel a strong need to just spend some time alone with the trees and the grass and the birds...I'm feeling a certain sickness, not homesickness (cause where is home?) but more sea sickness. Not sure where I'm going or where I want to end up...and its sort of bumpy all the time and everyone is always throwing up.

Day 88:  Chris, the girls, and I went out for some fishing this morning...I need to be more vocal about when I enjoy things cause when I love doing something I tend to get into it and forget to say thank you and tell them I'm having a great time.

Day 92:  There is just a basic primal bond between humans and nature and taking time to appreciate the latter strikes such a true chord within me.

Day 104:  Whether its two months or eight, I will have to leave, and that's just changed my perspective on everything. I want to take more walks, climb more trees, give more hugs and all that. On a less dramatic note, it is crazy cold.

Day 106:  For all the feigned sophistication a person might have, Dr. Seuss is probably one of the best sources of wisdom one might have on their shelf.

Day 130:  Last night we went out to check the fires and there was a big one heading up a big hill and we just turned off all the lights in the car and stared at it. It was so beautiful. On one side there were hundreds of little burning stumps which looked like twinkling stars. And the other side was just a spreading ring of fire. It is just one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.

Day 138:  And I see all this here, and part of me is involved, but part of me knows it isn't mine. And I begin to worry – how lucky do you have to be to have all this?

Day 150:  Letters are physical. An object you can hold on to and come back to when we can't hold on to and come back to each other.

Day 158:  Its one of my favourite things. Going along with people who you can just share a silence with or discuss whichever errant thoughts cross your mind.

Day 162:  I'm excited for her [my mum] to just chill out and experience the life I have there at Carnarvon. Cause that's really what I have. Its not about sites and being a tourist. Its about meeting my people. Experiencing our life. ...I miss the Carnarvon stars.

Day 164:  Did my first proper bush wee. Thought I could hold it until we got back, but I was busting, and we're laughing so hard cause Chris had to stop to wee three times, he thought there was something wrong with me. “They're going to have an erosion problem back there.”

Day 170:  Boy do I love her, but Mum sort of gets on my case about everything. It just gets a bit heavy. I suppose that's what mothers are for. If someone has to pull you back to reality, at least they cook you your favorite foods and give you cuddles.

Day 172:  We escaped to light the woofer. This thing uses pressurized air, a mix of petrol and diesel, and a fire ring to blow gigantic smoke rings. There is also a huge explosion and its AWESOME.

Day 173:  Went out to one of the old sites. Its amazing, you find all sorts of things left over from lives long past. Hand made nails, tea cups, cut throat razors, horse rein parts, belt buckles. Its really just another of those things about Carnarvon that makes you feel small and momentary and at the same time connected to something more.

Day 176:  Apologies, dear Reader, if you are my child. Mum was wild once too!

Day 185:  I've already started thinking of what I'll say when I leave. Maybe I should say those things sooner.

*This is completely, 100% backwards. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote that.  

Assimilation

At some point or another, it becomes a writer's main purpose to just get over writer's block.  I mean, we want to come up with an excuse that some how makes us sound good despite the fact that we've essentially been failing at what we set out to do. I of course am not here to convince you that I've gotten over my writer's block. But I will share with you some things I've realized while trying to figure out why I have it.

Simply put: I've gotten used to the place. Now usually when people say that, it means they've gotten bored of it. But its the complete opposite. Because I've gotten used to things, I don't feel like an outsider anymore. I don't feel this need to tell the world what us weirdos are doing out here all the time. We're weird, we're doing stuff, all the time – alright? Maybe we don't want you to know.  Don't worry, I'm just kidding Mum, really we're fine. *Rides off into the sunset with my gun not wearing a seat belt.*

Full Assimilation:  Got me a real cowgirl hat. 

Really, despite my decline in writing about life out here - its fantastic. Everyday we do something I could write a novel about. So summing it up in a blog post or a Facebook status is just too difficult.

I have learned though, that if you stop cataloging and recording everything you do, you wind up having some pretty wonderful experiences because you're paying attention to the situation instead of thinking what's going to happen next or how you're going describe it afterwards. Yeah, it makes it hard to share with everyone else. But, you'll share it with the people who you did it with, and I'm beginning to realize that's enough. It's more than enough.  A few simple moments with the people you care about are what your lasting memories will be made of.  Dancing in the kitchen, exploring on a hike, looking at the stars, talking by a fire.

So, it isn't really writer's block I'm suffering from.  I'm suffering from just having too good a time.  And what a privilege to have such an affliction. 

What was I saying about not recording everything? This video is actually a bit old now, old news to any of you following me on Facebook, but I wanted to put it up here now because it just shows exactly what I'm saying here – too many amazing times to keep track of and I'm lucky enough to have them every day.  

10 Things That Have Happened Since I Last Posted Here

Well, sometimes this thing just sort of gets away from me. Its been a busy few weeks since I last posted, and with all the running around we've been doing there has rarely been a moment where I have the free time and the internet connection to post something. Lots to catch you all up on, so let's get to it.

1. On our way from Lake Tinaroo to Townsville we stopped at Milla Milla Falls. No one should be surprised by this point that I convinced the girls to swim out underneath them.
   

   
2. We stayed at Baygal Beach just outside of Townsville at the girls' grandmother's house. It was absolutely lovely, and we ended up staying an extra week so we had to start school on the road! Also, saved some sea turtles!
   

   

   Can't you see we're struggling?  It really isn't the best work environment.

   
3. With three adults riding abreast in the front of the car, you better believe we got up to some hilarious antics (be proud of me that I didn't draw on any sleeping people until the last day). This is how I was taught to navigate T-intersections:

Chris: Anything your way mate?
Kaitlyn: *flawless Aussie accent* Naw mate, she's alright, get up 'er!

Every.  Single.  Intersection. 

Unrelated road stop: "Bit high don't ya think?" We definitely didn't lack for entertainment on the road.

4. After the two day journey back to Carnarvon, we were welcomed home by a few A-list guests. Bob Brown (former senator, leader of the Australian Green Party, and founder of Bush Heritage) and his partner Paul were visiting and we had a few great nights round the campfire. Lovely blokes!
   

   
5. I started a bush fire! Planned burning, so its controlled, but still very exciting. I've never really been a pyromaniac but...there is something very alluring and thrilling about lighting a fire that big, I've never seen anything like it to be honest. To me, controlling fire is one of those basic fundamental adaptations that made us human, so the whole idea of controlling those flames just stirs something primal in me I suppose.
   

   

   Casually light everything on fire on the way home.

   

   Honestly, how could you not be amazed?

6. We went to mini-school again! A few more foreign govies like myself this time. Favorite moment of the whole trip of course came when an Aussie, Canadian, Brit, Irish, and an American (with Scottish influences) all had go at each other about vocabulary and accents, truly an international panel!
   

   

   The Outstation, swag and a bag is all you need!

7. We came back from mini-school, had a weekend off and then a mob of Bush Heritage folks came out to Carnarvon for a week of 4WD courses, barbeques, and beer as far as I can tell. They were great fun and I loved having some folks around the cottage (especially bacon and egg breakfasts everyday) and some great nights around the fire having a chat, howling at the dingoes, drinking too much, singing songs, playing guitar, making fun of each other – ahhh, bliss.
   

   
8. Learned lots of things and made lots of friends that week, but some of my favorites were learning to drive the quad, shooting the pig hunting gun, and learning how to properly chop wood and start a fire for the soon to come chilly Carnarvon nights.
   

   

   That's a big bullet.  But more than anything, I've discovered its a loud bullet.

9. Chris is now realizing that I'm “like having a four year old boy around”. While probably meant as an exasperated shot at me somewhere between “can we play with the welder” and “can we go push over burning trees”, I'm choosing to take it as a compliment. Safety first of course, but if you're not exploring and having fun, what's the point? And I mean, I only wanted to push over the ones that were going to fall over anyway.
   

   

   
   

10. It only took until about noon time the day everyone left for Katie and I to proclaim our boredom, whereupon we decided we had nothing better to do so we might as well hike to the top of Mt. Lambert. As far as I can tell, my adventurous kindred spirit Katie is the only kid that's ever done it properly, and we had a jolly good time. Tough hour and a half climb, but some beautiful views and we slid on our bottoms most of the way down so we made it back in a third of the time.

That just about brings us up to the present, a crazy few weeks for sure!

(Wow, I've just reread what I've written and seen the number of times I talk about fire and I think maybe I do have pyromania problem.  Send help.  Or fire extinguishers.)

Atherton Tablelands

From Karumba we've headed east towards Cairns and are relaxing around Lake Tinaroo and the Atherton Tablelands.  The area is gorgeous, shaped by many now extinct volcanoes, and lush with subtropical rainforests. 

Highlights include Dinner Falls (where I got the girls in trouble for running off-trail for a dip in the waterfall), Lake Eachum (where I got the girls in trouble for jumping off the viewing platform into the lake), and the massive Cathedral and Curtain fig trees (where I got no one in trouble because now they've caught onto my ways and endeavor to keep me away from the call of the water).  Also spotted some a giant croc (made as a to size model of one shot in the area), lovely wind turbines (made by Germans) and The Crater (made by escaping volcanic gasses).

All this camping and beach and lake is bringing back fond memories from childhood - Longport shore days (41N. Pelham still home to the best outdoor showers known to man), mass camping/skiing trips with the Pittsburghers, and my mum cuddling me to death in the Adirondacks because she feared me freezing or getting eaten by a bear.  With all the international travel I've done/am doing I forget sometimes where the travel bug first bit me.  I sometimes fear returning to the Motherland, but these memories do give me something to I can fondly look forward to revisiting and rediscovering again.

Leave me some comments, tell me when and where I should visit you!

Karumba

So I'm with the Watson's now, and we are in Karumba!  Exciting!  Well, a bit.  Karumba is essentially an extremely hot fishing town on the northern gulf coast of Queensland.  Fishing is literally all there is, you can't even swim in the ocean because there are crocodiles. So we've been mostly passing the time swimming at the campground pool, a little fishing (with handlines!  Classic!), and eating Barramundi and chips for every meal.  We're heading to the Atherton tablelands tomorrow, hopefully its cooler there!

Sydney

Sydney is a lovely city.  More than many others I've known, its very in touch and integrated with nature and the natural surroundings (though the flash architecture doesn't hurt).  You never feel lost, there is always something interesting on, its hard to go a block without an amazing huge tree or park, lots of fun bookstores, and you can get seafood wherever you want.  My kinda place.

Cumberday!

Arrived in Sydney Saturday night, and with our nerves all jazzed up we went on a 3 hour walk all through the city and across the Harbour Bridge and back again, which was actually lovely and beautiful and highly suggested.  Got a few hours sleep and then got up for Oz Comic Con!

It was really pretty fun, got autographs, photos, met lots of cool people and had some funny times.  Benedict was very sweet to everyone, smelled good, had oddly proportioned limbs, and showcased his dancing 'skills' at the Q+A. 

The first con sort of thing I've ever gone to, it was...interesting!  I wouldn't say the cliche 'never meet your heroes' applies,  but there was something off during the whole experience for me.  As a trained evolutionary biologist, I love wildlife and nature, just beautiful fantastic things to observe.  But I've found that I'd rather sit in a forest everyday and never see a koala than go see a bunch of caged up sad  looking ones at the zoo.  It was a big event, things were rushed and a bit impersonal.  I guess what I'm saying is, humans aren't much different,  know when you're going to the zoo.

Nonetheless, we're really pleased with how the practice wedding photos turned out!

Are we in a Western?

Should this work and get posted, it shall be the first mobile post from my comfy spot packed in the Bush Heritage truck!  Not sure how the pictures will turn out, but the first are American university t-shirts which I found at a petrol station in a tiny town on the road.  Of course.  Typical Australian souvenir.

We spent about 9 hours driving yesterday from Carnarvon to a town called Cooyar (pop. 65), where like cowboys of old, we strolled into the  local pub and inquired about renting some rooms for the night.  Had a lovely dinner and breakfast and we're off again this morning for the big Brissy. 

Catch you guys later!

On the Road Again

Term 1 is finished!  Three week holiday here I come!  This is the reason to be a teacher!  We've enjoyed the last few days before we all head out in different directions for our holidays - easy last week of school, a few beautiful sunsets, and having an old friend for dinner.

Just beautiful.

Last photo of the late Peggy.  She was delicious.  First time I've eaten a pet/lawn-mower.

I'm heading out on Monday for a long road trip to Brisbane where I'll be for a few days, and then to Sydney at the end of the week.  Not taking my laptop, so I'm sure some of you out there will be happy to have a break from lengthy adventure essays.  Expect some short, mostly photographic posts from the road!

Lots of love, keep in touch!  

An Altogether Unexpected Holiday

With Easter holidays coming up, I've been in the early stages of designing my first Big Travel Adventure since my arrival. As hard as it is to make plans with a group, its even harder when you're on your own – there is nothing baring you in any direction which makes picking only one direction a bit of a challenge. With a solid bit of cash saved up and the only requirement being that I do a CPR/First Aid course somewhere during my 3 week holiday, the options are pretty wide open.

Cairns this time of year sounded great. Rain-forest, reef, beach, first aid courses, travel by train and see the coast. I thought about new places I'd never been and maybe revisiting a few highlights from my tour as a 10 year old. It was all going to be a very fun adventure.

But this blog isn't called Very Fun Adventure, now is it? No, no, darling.

You see, when I got up last Sunday, I expected to stop procrastinating and finally book some tickets for Cairns and get my ducks in a row. However, just when I thought I was going the right way, the ever elusive unexpected option presented itself. By lunch time the same day I had secured tickets which would allow me to have a whole day of meeting and greeting and listening to one of my favorite actors. In a few weeks. In Sydney. By way of Brisbane to do my CPR/First aid course. Sorted.

It really did happen rather quickly (...sound familiar?). I do knowingly admit that I seem to have developed a little bit of a quirky attitude lately, with the overwhelming mental response in these should-I-really-do-this situations being, “In the last minute I have considered this option, affirmed its possibility, seen its potential, and it would be quite lovely. I can hardly unconsider it and should I not go through with it now I will surely kick myself for a long time knowing that I considered it to be lovely and did nothing, so I might as well just do it.” Blame only-childhood or something. I can't recommend it as an approach for every situation, but surely some good must come out of bucking up and just doing what you want now and again.

I'm pretty excited about it. In the last few years though, the craziness of meeting celebrities has sort of calmed down. I am always excited, don't get me wrong, but now I can just chill out and have a chat and respect that they're just as normal as anybody else. Must have happened when I worked at the Edinburgh International Film Festival, girl gotta play it cool if your gonna pick up famous people at the airport.

The wee Watson girls on the other hand, are flipping out. Dragons have been a highlight of our classroom for ages now. I tend to stick with it because anything which gets them writing, creating, listening to stories, and make-believing has to be good. So while they're nowhere near the “Oh Benedict Cumberbatch, I love him, cheekbones, eyes, mmm” they're immediate reaction to hearing my travel plans was more along the lines of “YOU'RE REALLY MEETING SMAUG? WHAT IS HIS FAVORITE COLOR? DOES HE LIKE VEGEMITE? WHAT'S HIS FAVORITE ANIMAL? IS IT FUN BEING A DRAGON? CAN HE FLY? WILL HE SKYPE WITH US?”  I now have the ammunition to make this quite the unforgettable Q&A.

I'll have a few days in Brissy, head down to Sydney for a few, then head back up north and meet up with the Watson's for some camping and a roadtrip back to Carnarvon. I've already been in touch with a few Australian fans who are going and so I'll at least have some people to awkwardly stand in line with and such. For what I'm sure is not the first nor last time in my life, thank you Tumblr.

I'd say this is the last thing I'd expect to be doing, but that means I would have had to have thought of it at all to begin with.

Gotta love it. Altogether, unexpected.

Their marketing department knows exactly who their audience is.