Running the Mill
It has occurred to me that while you have a pretty good idea of what my life was like in Los Angeles and in Tokyo, you probably have no clue as to what I am doing here in Australia. We are now at the point in our relationship where you know a little bit about me, and I about you, but only in the general sense, and you might be ready for something deeper. It doesn’t help either that I seem to have been reluctant to share anything about my life in Australia. So, it is probably long overdue after two months in this country, but better late then never.
I usually wake up decently early, around 8:00 or so and have some breakfast and tea in my room. I check my email, maybe talk to my family, or do some stretching for an hour, then shower and head off to class for the day. Monday-Thursday I get back quite late, so I eat lunch somewhere on or near campus and spend the gaps in my timetable reading in the library (this week Bruce Chatwin). After class I come home and begin to make dinner. Once everything is safely simmering away I change and go for a run just in time to watch the sun set. After the hill Emmanuel is on kicks my ass I do some stretching, shower, and change. Then it’s dinner time and I usually have some work to do or a film to watch for one of my classes. Though sometimes on Wednesdays the Globe does a double screening of cult classics and I can usually finagle myself a ticket with some other devoted film students.
Fridays I spend mostly running errands at the post office, grocer’s, bank, library, and anywhere else my to-do list takes me. There’s always something happening at college in the evening, and all major events have provided buses that leave regularly at 20:00. If we’re not all off for some grog at the ol’ Pig and Whistle, I’m down in the valley for some dinner and perhaps a touch of the night life. Chinatown is especially fun on Fridays.
Saturdays are a bit different. When I’m not away on some weekend adventure I spend most of my time wandering the queen street mall aimlessly, touring the downtown cityscape, or ambling down south bank’s flower-paved pathways. Get there early enough and you’ll catch the parkour traceurs practising frantically by the river, trying to outrace the cops trying to shut them down. After grabbing a cuppa at the Coffee Factory or a gelato at Shlix, I’ve been known to read in the sun of New Streets Beach or practice tai chi in the Royal Botanical Gardens if I get the timing right. I’m almost always tempted to catch a movie at the cineplex, which offers an ultra-cheap concession for students, and there’s a weekend street market on Stanley Street to browse waiting for the showtime to start. Kids from nearby Griffith University are always cooking out all over the parklands too, and if you ask nicely or bring a six pack they’ll usually let you join in to help yourself a sausage and the skinny on whether or not the band scheduled to play at the uni jazz cafe is any good this week.
Sunday I wake up at the crack of dawn and try to be out of the house by 6:00, just in time to watch the sun rise on my way to the ferry terminal. I take the scenic route to North Quay and then catch the 111, then the 576 through to Rochedale, where I’ve enrolled in a basic meditation class at the Chung Tian Ch’an Buddhist Temple. 9:00-10:00 is spent in a combination of walking and sitting meditation, taught by a wonderful monk who has an incredibly loud voice despite her tiny stature. At 10:00 sharp Ms. Elaine Pun starts the Buddhist philosophy class. She’s a middle-aged Chinese woman with a shrill voice and a sharp stare, but she has a remarkably kind way about her and brings us a present every week — melon candies or CDs of chanting or tiny lanterns for good luck. Then we mill about and eat lunch at the temple, where I can usually catch a ride back to the city with someone particularly generous (usually Lynn). I head back home, do my laundry, clean my bedroom, and finish up any outstanding work I’ve got.
At this point I’ve explored pretty much every zone of Brisbane from the boonies of Priestdale to the hubbub of Brunswick and am now slowly working my way outside to the many parks and national forests of Queensland. The people are warm and friendly (and bear remarkable resemblance to Texans), and the area offers a huge variety of people. Brisbane is a city that feels like a small town, though one easy on the eyes. It’s pretty much universally understood that the vibe is laid back and the pace of life is leisurely and quiet, perhaps the largest drawing point for many of Brisbane’s residents. They big fans of just hanging out; in a word Brisbane is chill. Although it’s good to have some free time for once, I’m also ready to take on a bit more. But I will spend my last few weeks squeezing every last to-do from this state before I make my farewells. It should be good.