Recurrent Reflection

Throughout of my first month of working full time, I done my level best to keep work and non-work separate. As soon as my foot is out of the hospital doors, a mental metal gate slams shut on work-related thoughts.

Alas, the gate's a little leaky.

Which tests do Mr A need? O, I mustn't forget to do this, and that. Ah, the meeting at 1230. Can Ms B go to rehab tomorrow? Such things circulate like a regurgitant toilet in the cistern of my head: while watching TV, over dinner, showering, driving, even in slumber (yes, I dream about work).

It's frustrating. To function optimally during the day, I actually need time off to be, well, time off. Perhaps I need to immerse myself in more extra-curricular activities which are actually physically and mentally taxing (so watching the cricket's out huh?). Or perhaps it's just a matter of time and experience.

***

My thoughts go out to those who've lost friends, family, homes, and livelihoods in Victoria's worst natural disaster. And heartfelt thanks to the valiant firefighters, police, doctors, and volunteers trying to hold it all together.

A New Year for a New Nation

This year, both Australia Day and Chinese New Year fall on January 26th. The immediate upshot of this is that I have the day off work to ring in the Year of the Ox; but as I stand over the sizzling pan of nian gao I find a recurrent question creep into my consciousness: what am I? Chinese or Australian?

Having migrated here at the tender age of six, my earliest (and hence most deeply imprinted) experiences, and indeed my first language were formed in Hong Kong. Yet, it is in Australia that I have gone to school, met my closest friends, and now, embarked on a career. Before I could further examine this burning conundrum, I had to flip the gao to prevent their burning. And anyway, what is it really that makes gao, well, gao? Is it the gooey coconut centre, or the immediately recognisable crispy egg exterior?

Let me move on, lest my question crumbles like this metaphor has.

It is easy enough to see how I am Chinese. My black hair, sallow skin, and comparatively petite frame greet me in the mirror every morning. And while I sip pu er tea and call my elderly relatives to wish them equine vitality or peaceful comings and goings, it is impossible to deny my heritage. Yet glancing through today’s paper, replete with stories of the extraordinary achievements of extraordinary Australians, and yet more masturbatory articles about Jelena Dokic, it is hard for one’s heart not to swell with a little true-blue pride. Even as I pen these very musings, I realise that my tenuous grasp of the Chinese language would not offer the capacity or fluidity for such expression. The deeper I wade into this quagmire, the more muddied it all becomes. So where my physical attributes and actions go one way, my head and heart tugs firmly in the opposite direction. ‘struth. Confusion abounds.

Time for a tea-break, I think. Pu er, anyone?

Australia Day. Chinese New Year. What is everyone doing anyway?

Cricketers batting and bowling for sporting glories;
Grandparents, with children on laps, telling of their forefathers’ stories;
And the thousands of families gathering together, whether sharing snags or red packets…

Then it hit me, like the proverbial thunderbolt. Maybe I was asking the wrong question all along: it is not about what I am, but what I can be. This is without doubt the most apt question as we celebrate what it means to be Australian today: mateship, multiculturalism, and a fair go for all. So while Indigenous Australians and migrants alike continue to fight for recognition, respect, and opportunities, they too are asking, of themselves, and of their country:

What can I be?

Happy New...

...second!

As of 11am EST today, we gained a second. More specifically, a second of time was added to the Caesium atomic clock in Greenwich, UK. Why? It was to accommodate for the fact that the Earth's rotation is in fact slowing down, as it gradually loses minuscule amounts of energy in its inexorable spinning through largely, but not totally, empty space. Guess we all slow down a little as we age. Sad huh?

What did you do with your 'leap' second?

With all new years come resolutions. One I had way back in 2000 was to put the date on every piece of work/notes that I created, and was one that I've kept rather well. But what of this year?

1. Drink less (aim for 3 alcohol-free days a week?)
2. Exercise more, or at least, regularly (3 times a week?)
3. Keep in touch (physically, telephonically, or internettingly)

Yup, basic and boring, but just what the doctor ordered, methinks. Have a great year.

Far North Queensland, Part 2

Moving ahead: day 3 in Kuranda

Flecker Botanical Gardens.
Set deep within the tropical gardens is this delightful café. Serves a killer eggs benedict.

Barron Falls.
The area is really full of surprises. Who would've thought a short walk through the dense tropical forest would suddenly explode into a rocky gorge complete with a waterfall? Pity about the lack of water though.

Army Duck.
Very touristy, I know, but it is a certainly a unique way to see the rainforest by means of an amphibious vehicle from WWII, dubbed the 'army duck'.

Navy Duck?
This particular bird is renowned for its fishing prowess.

Far North Queensland, Part 1

In place of journeying to a winter and riot-stricken city, we holidayed in somewhere quite the opposite: warm and sunny, laid-back and simple, where the rainforest meets the ocean. Of course, none other than our very own Cairns.

So as to not bore with wordy tracts recounting our every adventure, below are some pictorial highlights, with captions (days 1 & 2):

The Lakes Resort and Spa.

Only minutes by car from the airport and to Cairns, and right beside the Botanical Gardens, this is a well-equipped, convenient and comfortable place to stay. Good value too.


Lake Barrine.
Right in the heart of the Atherton Tablelands, this lake was formed some 10,000 years ago, a result of volcanic activity. Serenely pleasant, beside it sits a tea house with the best scones I've ever had. Bad coffee, alas.


The Cathedral Fig Tree.

Nestled in the Tablelands, this is a particularly grand example of fig trees found throughout the rainforest. It is a result of relentless root formation by epiphytic, not parasitic, growth.

The Millaa Millaa Falls.
No better way to cool off in the tropical north.

Afternoon Tea.
Sumptious ice-cream served, worth every yard of the windy and occasionally hazardous road to get there.

What a riot!

Our planned eight-day sojourn in Athens and its surrounds, followed by three days gallivanting in Dubai, was prematurely aborted by the recent civil disobedience in many parts of Greece. What began as a reaction to the police killing of a 15-year-old in the anarchic Athenian suburb of Exarchia rapidly degenerated into a open-throated cry against the many social injustices experienced by the citizenry.

The history behind it all is really very interesting: ever since tanks rolled into university to quash mass demonstrations in 1973, killing many students (reminds anyone of June 1989?), it was henceforth written in the constitution that the military is not permitted on 'educational' property. Hence, universities throughout Greece serve as safe havens for anarchic activities. Not that this is necessary a bad thing; after all, it was thanks in part to these riotous students in 1973 that the military dictatorship was finally removed in 1974, paving the way for a democratic government (which admittedly isn't doing a fantastic job at the moment).

Rioting, looting, airport strike, general strike: safe or not it probably would not have made for a very pleasant holiday. Ah well, maybe another year. For now, it's off to Cairns instead!

Toodles all.

Hellos and Goodbyes

A very big 'welcome back' to John!

***

The time I spent in HK last week was probably one of the best trips there I've ever had. It was a very last minute decision, cashing in my soon-to-expire frequent-flyer points to fly back. The six-day whirlwind of shopping, eating, and family-seeing was so rewarding: exploring new places, revisiting some old and familiar ones, and reconnecting with people whom I've known my whole life long. It felt so brief, and yet so full. You know, almost like that 'my life flashed right before my eyes' feeling. Oddly, throughout I had this sense that I was saying goodbye, with some finality, even though I'm certain that I will be back there in the not-too-distant future.

I don't think it was the place nor the people I was really saying goodbye to there.