I had an epiphany last night - I have stagnated.
In a way, it's not a new realisation. It always happens. I'm so used to change that once I settle into a routine, I get complacent, bored and lethargic.
And that is precisely what has happened to me over the last few weeks.
I am at my most productive when things are fresh and brand new. I write more articles, I write more letters, I think more, I feel motivated to do more.
But I've simply settled into a routine where I struggle to wake up in the morning to go to work, return home after work and more or less watch TV and waste the rest of my evening.
It is true that things got rather busy upon my return from Singapore a month and so ago. But what is the truth of it all is that I've gotten settled into a routine and have stagnated.
Gone are the days when I would wake up early and eager to go to work because I love what I do so much.
Gone are the evenings when I would sit in my room, furiously typing away about an issue I feel passionately about or about an inspirational thought that just hit me. Or work on a project that fascinates me so. Or even simply enjoy the pleasures of reading.
Gone are the weekends where I would venture out into a new area of Sydney to simply enjoy the experience of exploring and visiting somewhere new.
I don't even write my friends as often as I used to. Which isn't very often, but was more often than right now.
I have stagnated.
I simply don't have the energy to do anything. I feel lethargic. I feel like I completely lack energy and motivation to do anything. I feel stifled in the small tiny room where I eat, sleep and do everything else in. I haven't even written in my diary for about two weeks, where before, I would furiously write in it at least once every two days.
And so now, with renewed determination, I am going to make my life interesting again. I need to revive myself. I want to re-energise myself.
And most of all, I want to be able to go through life experiencing it. And not simply skimming through the surface in a rush to get somewhere. Where, I don't know. But I always feel like I need to be in a hurry.
As in the sermon I heard this morning, God wants us to live life abundantly. To the full. To experience the richness, the activities, the relationships, the things that we are so passionate about.
And that is what I want to strive to do from today.
Wednesday, 29 June 2005
excuse me while I pass out.
Just what is the state of my fellow countrymen coming to? What in the world are the future leaders of my home country thinking?
Idolising Hitler indeed!
Excerpt:
But just on another note, I worry and fear about the logic and intellectual ability of these kids.
They are worshipping the very same person, who if he were alive, would have ruthlessly and mercilessly called for their extermination simply because they are not quite of the white Aryan race.
How do you actually idolise someone who would kill you upon meeting you? Not just you, but your entire race?
Why not try idolising someone else who was a far better leader and who spurred up much more lasting feelings of loyalty so much so that two thousand years later, people still talk about him, people still love him, and people still listen to what he had to say?
Why not try idolising somone who had as much charisma as Hitler, if not more, but who is instead the very epitome of goodness, love, patience and happiness?
And most certainly better loved and with more brain cells?
Excuse me while I bemoan the future state of my homeland.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, the other dude I'm talking about? His name is Jesus Christ.
Just what is the state of my fellow countrymen coming to? What in the world are the future leaders of my home country thinking?
Idolising Hitler indeed!
Excerpt:
The group leader, a tanned and bespectacled 15-year-old girl, said, "We like him. He led Germany and was very good, although he was evil. Don't you think he's very handsome? He started World War II, but it's okay, he's still our hero."Everything I want to say has been said by him.
But just on another note, I worry and fear about the logic and intellectual ability of these kids.
They are worshipping the very same person, who if he were alive, would have ruthlessly and mercilessly called for their extermination simply because they are not quite of the white Aryan race.
How do you actually idolise someone who would kill you upon meeting you? Not just you, but your entire race?
Why not try idolising someone else who was a far better leader and who spurred up much more lasting feelings of loyalty so much so that two thousand years later, people still talk about him, people still love him, and people still listen to what he had to say?
Why not try idolising somone who had as much charisma as Hitler, if not more, but who is instead the very epitome of goodness, love, patience and happiness?
And most certainly better loved and with more brain cells?
Excuse me while I bemoan the future state of my homeland.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, the other dude I'm talking about? His name is Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, 28 June 2005
Do you believe in miracles?
Do you believe in trust?
Do you believe in faith?
My best friend has just graduated from College.
Normally, this would be good news because we have so many grand plans together that includes moving into a nice apartment and make it our home, making short films, embarking on various projects that involve taking over the world...
The only catch?
She isn't quite legal to live and work in Australia without a visa. And getting the visa has been and will be a rather tricky situation.
Most jobs will only hire folks who are legally allowed to work in Australia. Getting a visa that allows her to legally work in Australia requires a job. How do you answer the chicken and egg question?
Her current student visa is expiring. Time is running out. There still isn't a job available.
What do we have left?
Faith.
Hope.
Trust.
The belief that God has a plan, is in control and will come up with something that will absolutely astound us.
And lots and lots of prayer.
Do you believe in trust?
Do you believe in faith?
My best friend has just graduated from College.
Normally, this would be good news because we have so many grand plans together that includes moving into a nice apartment and make it our home, making short films, embarking on various projects that involve taking over the world...
The only catch?
She isn't quite legal to live and work in Australia without a visa. And getting the visa has been and will be a rather tricky situation.
Most jobs will only hire folks who are legally allowed to work in Australia. Getting a visa that allows her to legally work in Australia requires a job. How do you answer the chicken and egg question?
Her current student visa is expiring. Time is running out. There still isn't a job available.
What do we have left?
Faith.
Hope.
Trust.
The belief that God has a plan, is in control and will come up with something that will absolutely astound us.
And lots and lots of prayer.
Saturday, 25 June 2005
the last week has been extremely hectic for me, to say the least.
with only one more week to go before the Christian Resources Exhibition (if you're in Sydney July 6 - 8, come visit stand E2!), life has been all about putting it together.
in theory, I believe I've got everything under control. But in the world of events management, you will never know until the day itself. And chances are, Murphy's Law will kick in. But I'll cross my fingers and pray. Very hard.
Kristin moved into the Nurses' Res yesterday! So if everything goes to plan, she gets a job, a work visa, something that will help her stay in Australia, we'll be moving out soon! Apartment hunting has already begun in a small little way. I can't wait to move out...
Attending an Amnesty International forum in the city commerating the UN International Day in Support of Victims of Torture tomorrow. Should be interesting.
Anyway, it's Kristin's world famous soft cookies, Chicken Run and The Wedding Singer time!
with only one more week to go before the Christian Resources Exhibition (if you're in Sydney July 6 - 8, come visit stand E2!), life has been all about putting it together.
in theory, I believe I've got everything under control. But in the world of events management, you will never know until the day itself. And chances are, Murphy's Law will kick in. But I'll cross my fingers and pray. Very hard.
Kristin moved into the Nurses' Res yesterday! So if everything goes to plan, she gets a job, a work visa, something that will help her stay in Australia, we'll be moving out soon! Apartment hunting has already begun in a small little way. I can't wait to move out...
Attending an Amnesty International forum in the city commerating the UN International Day in Support of Victims of Torture tomorrow. Should be interesting.
Anyway, it's Kristin's world famous soft cookies, Chicken Run and The Wedding Singer time!
Sunday, 19 June 2005
It's World Refugee Day tomorrow.
It has been reported that "the number of refugees around the world rose by 1 million last year, to 11.5 million."
That is a heck of a lot of folks with nowhere to call their home. Folks whose fate is at the mercy of the government of the country they happen to be seeking asylum in. Folks who, if they happen to be in Australia, are automatically placed under a mandatory detention regime (the only western country with this policy). These folks may never taste the sweet smell of freedom ever again because of the Australian government's ability to hold refugees in detention centres indefinitely.
This means that there could potentially be an entire generation of children born, raised and possibly dying in a detention centre, never having known what it is like to live like you and me - as citizens of a country. And seriously, living in a detention centre is not quite the same as setting up home in a holiday resort.
Children caught in long-term detention are often traumatised. As Graham Thom, Amnesty International Australia's Advocacy Coordinator observes, "We have been in contact with a number of detainees who have spent years in detention and witnessed their mental state slowly disintegrate...reading their medical reports that highlight the number of suicide attempts they have made and the way they have self-harmed themselves - for instance, cutting the word 'freedom' into their skin - brings home the damage long-term detention does to children."
Fair enough to say that there could be serious political and economical implications if a country were to accept refugees as easily as they were to accept tourists into their country. But mandatory detention, tearing families apart, encouraging additional trauma in folks already persecuted horribly in their home country is simply not the humane way to do things.
Refugees exist because they are forced to leave their country of residence through no fault of their own. The main reason why there has been such a phenomenal increase in refugees last year is not because being a refugee is the latest fad, but because of the genocide happening in Darfur and people fleeing Iraq (now whose fault is that?) into Syria.
If countries honestly and truly do not want the problems refugees create in their country - political, economical, social, or being hounded by pro-refugee advocates - maybe they should do something about the crisis these folks are facing back in their home countries?
The Rwandan Genocide created an uproar because nations stood by and did nothing while Hutus murdered their Tutsi neighbours in cold blood. Apologies were offered after, but if these nations were truly sorry, maybe they should start intervening in the countries creating refugees right now? (or stop intervening in other countries, for that matter.)
The United Nations was created for a reason and I don't think it was because some random person thought an army with blue helmets looked cool. If countries really did not want refugees, maybe they should help make the world become a place where people don't need to be refugees in the first place.
Governments need to do something about humanitarian crisis happening in other countries, instead of throwing lavishly grand parties to Princess Mary with taxpayers' money.
But in the meantime, while another grand party is thrown for a visiting dignitary, they will simply have to endure the demonstrations, the letters and the calls to free the refugees in detention centres.
To read more about refugees and immigration centres, and take further action visit:
Amnesty International
It has been reported that "the number of refugees around the world rose by 1 million last year, to 11.5 million."
That is a heck of a lot of folks with nowhere to call their home. Folks whose fate is at the mercy of the government of the country they happen to be seeking asylum in. Folks who, if they happen to be in Australia, are automatically placed under a mandatory detention regime (the only western country with this policy). These folks may never taste the sweet smell of freedom ever again because of the Australian government's ability to hold refugees in detention centres indefinitely.
This means that there could potentially be an entire generation of children born, raised and possibly dying in a detention centre, never having known what it is like to live like you and me - as citizens of a country. And seriously, living in a detention centre is not quite the same as setting up home in a holiday resort.
Children caught in long-term detention are often traumatised. As Graham Thom, Amnesty International Australia's Advocacy Coordinator observes, "We have been in contact with a number of detainees who have spent years in detention and witnessed their mental state slowly disintegrate...reading their medical reports that highlight the number of suicide attempts they have made and the way they have self-harmed themselves - for instance, cutting the word 'freedom' into their skin - brings home the damage long-term detention does to children."
Fair enough to say that there could be serious political and economical implications if a country were to accept refugees as easily as they were to accept tourists into their country. But mandatory detention, tearing families apart, encouraging additional trauma in folks already persecuted horribly in their home country is simply not the humane way to do things.
Refugees exist because they are forced to leave their country of residence through no fault of their own. The main reason why there has been such a phenomenal increase in refugees last year is not because being a refugee is the latest fad, but because of the genocide happening in Darfur and people fleeing Iraq (now whose fault is that?) into Syria.
If countries honestly and truly do not want the problems refugees create in their country - political, economical, social, or being hounded by pro-refugee advocates - maybe they should do something about the crisis these folks are facing back in their home countries?
The Rwandan Genocide created an uproar because nations stood by and did nothing while Hutus murdered their Tutsi neighbours in cold blood. Apologies were offered after, but if these nations were truly sorry, maybe they should start intervening in the countries creating refugees right now? (or stop intervening in other countries, for that matter.)
The United Nations was created for a reason and I don't think it was because some random person thought an army with blue helmets looked cool. If countries really did not want refugees, maybe they should help make the world become a place where people don't need to be refugees in the first place.
Governments need to do something about humanitarian crisis happening in other countries, instead of throwing lavishly grand parties to Princess Mary with taxpayers' money.
But in the meantime, while another grand party is thrown for a visiting dignitary, they will simply have to endure the demonstrations, the letters and the calls to free the refugees in detention centres.
To read more about refugees and immigration centres, and take further action visit:
Amnesty International
Thursday, 16 June 2005
Queen's Birthday Long Weekend
Photos of when Kristin came up to visit during the Queen's Birthday long weekend...(click on the picture to see the rest.)
Tuesday, 14 June 2005
Relevant is just about my favourite Christian magazine that very effectively marries modern day living and Christianity.
Just as its name suggests, it seeks to be relevant to the generation of today, without comprising what is deemed as old-fashioned faith.
In some ways, I feel that the magazine is everything I stand for as a contemporary Christian trying to fit in a modern day culture.
And guess what they just did?
*squeals in excitement*
Just as its name suggests, it seeks to be relevant to the generation of today, without comprising what is deemed as old-fashioned faith.
In some ways, I feel that the magazine is everything I stand for as a contemporary Christian trying to fit in a modern day culture.
And guess what they just did?
*squeals in excitement*
Friday, 10 June 2005
Long weekend ahead!
The Queen is celebrating her birthday and the whole of Australia gets a day off. Sometimes, having a monarchy seems like a good thing. I mean, it's not like as if Singapore gets a holiday because it is Lee Kuan Yew's birthday. When is it, anyway?
Kristin comes up for the weekend this evening.
What with the Sydney Film Festival happening and wanting to visit Bondi Beach and that lovely cafe bookshop, I think we're going to have a pretty great weekend!
At least I won't have to worry about the Christian Resources Exhibition, or chasing up news stories, or the exhibition for the church's business meeting for one extra day...
Hurray for the Queen!
The Queen is celebrating her birthday and the whole of Australia gets a day off. Sometimes, having a monarchy seems like a good thing. I mean, it's not like as if Singapore gets a holiday because it is Lee Kuan Yew's birthday. When is it, anyway?
Kristin comes up for the weekend this evening.
What with the Sydney Film Festival happening and wanting to visit Bondi Beach and that lovely cafe bookshop, I think we're going to have a pretty great weekend!
At least I won't have to worry about the Christian Resources Exhibition, or chasing up news stories, or the exhibition for the church's business meeting for one extra day...
Hurray for the Queen!
Read some fantastic news yesterday. Excerpt:
I mean, anything to keep those activists quiet right? But my respect for Tony Blair would go up several notches if he does go ahead with his plans.
Would be interesting to see what happens at the upcoming G8 summit.
Would be nice if they did eradicate the debts....
Ah, one can hope.
In the meantime, if you want to do more, sign the petition on Micah Challenge!
British Prime Minister Tony Blair and US President George W. Bush are close to a ground-breaking deal that would see the world's richest nations wipe out $US20billion ($26billion) in debts owed by the poorest African nations.In all honesty, I'm pleasantly surprised. Yes, these folks did sign the Millennium Development Goals, but it was beginning to look like they were signed just for the sake of signing.
I mean, anything to keep those activists quiet right? But my respect for Tony Blair would go up several notches if he does go ahead with his plans.
Would be interesting to see what happens at the upcoming G8 summit.
Would be nice if they did eradicate the debts....
Ah, one can hope.
In the meantime, if you want to do more, sign the petition on Micah Challenge!
Thursday, 9 June 2005
Circle of Courage Cycle Tour
It's about time!
If you didn't get enough of the official photos I took while on the Circle of Courage Cycle Tour that's published here, you'll find a whole stack of personal ones uploaded now.
Just click on the swans to go through the photos in chronological order.
Well, sort of.
Tuesday, 7 June 2005
I found it, I found it!
Well, technically speaking, someone gave me the link, but nevertheless, it's been found!
A responsible shopper guide for Australia!
Now I know where to shop with a clean conscience!
Well, technically speaking, someone gave me the link, but nevertheless, it's been found!
A responsible shopper guide for Australia!
Now I know where to shop with a clean conscience!
my driving instructor cancelled our 7.15am lesson this morning, and so I find myself sitting in front of the computer at the cockroach prison, er, Nurses' Residence at 6.40am checking emails and updating my blog.
I could go back to sleep, but it would probably mean I would end up being late for work...
Anyway, I just finished reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and it is such a brilliant book!
Thought Terry Pratchett was random? Douglas Adams is ten times worse, or better, depending on how you look at it.
Who else would be able to pull together a book that consisted of two humans (one having more or less left Earth a long time ago, the other a true blue Englishman with great lines), a two-headed absolutely ditzy completely narcissistic President of the Galaxy (called Zaphod Beeblebrox, no less), a slightly off-balanced alien who had been stuck on Earth for five years because nobody else from the Galaxy ever passes through an area marked as "dull" and my all-time favourite...a manic-depressive robot full of cutting sarcasm.
If you like control, it may be a better idea not to pick up the book. Just when you think you are understanding where the book is going, it takes off on another tangent that leaves you hanging in the air.
But if you like good old British humour, if you like Prattchet at all (I'm looking at you Faith), and if you would like a really good laugh, HHG is your book. Just remember to leave your logic behind for a while.
And you may even realise where the Wachowski brothers got their idea for the Matrix from...
And speaking of movies, I did catch the movie version of HHG and I have to say, I am impressed.
Not often am I impressed by movies that are based on books. But I guess with a story this random, it's not hard to stick to the "facts", so to speak.
There are many aspects of the movie that are not in the book. There are even added storylines and changed sequences. And yet, at the same time, these changes made the movie work. The changes enhanced the story and gave it a pace that would entertain an audience more used to Hollywood movies than English humour.
The movie is not quite the book coming to live. But it certainly presented the essence of it well.
So yes, read the book. Watch the movie. It's worth it.
I could go back to sleep, but it would probably mean I would end up being late for work...
Anyway, I just finished reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and it is such a brilliant book!
Thought Terry Pratchett was random? Douglas Adams is ten times worse, or better, depending on how you look at it.
Who else would be able to pull together a book that consisted of two humans (one having more or less left Earth a long time ago, the other a true blue Englishman with great lines), a two-headed absolutely ditzy completely narcissistic President of the Galaxy (called Zaphod Beeblebrox, no less), a slightly off-balanced alien who had been stuck on Earth for five years because nobody else from the Galaxy ever passes through an area marked as "dull" and my all-time favourite...a manic-depressive robot full of cutting sarcasm.
If you like control, it may be a better idea not to pick up the book. Just when you think you are understanding where the book is going, it takes off on another tangent that leaves you hanging in the air.
But if you like good old British humour, if you like Prattchet at all (I'm looking at you Faith), and if you would like a really good laugh, HHG is your book. Just remember to leave your logic behind for a while.
And you may even realise where the Wachowski brothers got their idea for the Matrix from...
And speaking of movies, I did catch the movie version of HHG and I have to say, I am impressed.
Not often am I impressed by movies that are based on books. But I guess with a story this random, it's not hard to stick to the "facts", so to speak.
There are many aspects of the movie that are not in the book. There are even added storylines and changed sequences. And yet, at the same time, these changes made the movie work. The changes enhanced the story and gave it a pace that would entertain an audience more used to Hollywood movies than English humour.
The movie is not quite the book coming to live. But it certainly presented the essence of it well.
So yes, read the book. Watch the movie. It's worth it.
Monday, 6 June 2005
the stress is beginning to creep in...
3 more weeks before the Christian Resources Exhibition in Sydney. A major exhibition that I have to plan for, manage and execute.
An exhibition that had been left on the back burner while the Circle of Courage Cycle Tour happened (I still need to upload some personal photos I took on that tour across the country).
An exhibition that got further left behind when I had to return home for my grandmother.
I am fast running out of time and this isn't the only project I have on my table. And I'm not even thinking of the news stories that I have to chase up, or the reports that I have to write.
And they are all due before September!!!
Don't get me wrong, I still love my job. I still love the variety of projects that complements my extremely short attention span.
But I'm still freaking out!!!!
Deep breaths Mel....deep breaths...
3 more weeks before the Christian Resources Exhibition in Sydney. A major exhibition that I have to plan for, manage and execute.
An exhibition that had been left on the back burner while the Circle of Courage Cycle Tour happened (I still need to upload some personal photos I took on that tour across the country).
An exhibition that got further left behind when I had to return home for my grandmother.
I am fast running out of time and this isn't the only project I have on my table. And I'm not even thinking of the news stories that I have to chase up, or the reports that I have to write.
And they are all due before September!!!
Don't get me wrong, I still love my job. I still love the variety of projects that complements my extremely short attention span.
But I'm still freaking out!!!!
Deep breaths Mel....deep breaths...
Friday, 3 June 2005
The attack on the Indonesian embassy at Canberra in response to Schapelle Corby's sentence is not only childish, but is absolutely ironical for a country with a commitment to help fight the "war on terror" with the US.
Emma Tom makes a very valid point in her article about some Aussies' reactions to Corby's sentencing.
Excerpt:
Emma Tom makes a very valid point in her article about some Aussies' reactions to Corby's sentencing.
Excerpt:
In this bold new era of globalisation, Westerners have become increasingly complacent about foreign travel. But when we choose to take cheap holidays in developing countries we must accept that we may have to navigate alien hospitals, bureaucracies and judiciaries that don't always work the way we'd like them to. And crying "but things are different at home" is unlikely to help.
Thursday, 2 June 2005
Things we do at work...
One of our business partners came by to share some Krispy Kreme Donuts with our boss who is on holiday. Guess who got the donuts by default? Yum!
Wednesday, 1 June 2005
she asks, I obey.
Introducing the Literati Baton...
1) Total number of books I’ve owned:
Do you ask a writer how many pens he owns? Do you ask Imelda Marcos how many pairs of shoes she owns? How am I supposed to answer this question when I buy books more often than I buy clothes, shoes or CDs?
2) The last book I bought:
The last real book I bought was The New Australian & New Zealand Public Relations Manual. For work. But that's boring stuff.
The last book I bought for leisure reading were actually three books. It was on a 3 for $50 special, I couldn't resist!
Notes From a Small Island by Bill Bryson - brings back fond memories of my year in England
Almost French by Sarah Turnbull - spending that one week in Paris with Kristin made me want to be almost French myself!
The third book...well...tells you how significant it is when I've forgotten what it is. Hey, it was 3 for $50! I had to find a third book!!
3) The last book I read:
The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett - after reading his books in a completely random and haphazard way, the anal-retentive in me has called out to me to read them in the sequence they were published. For anyone looking for satire, British humour and utter brilliance, Pratchett's your man.
4) 5 books that mean a lot to me:
We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families by Philip Gourevitch - great journalism work that brought out the activist in me. It's not an easy read, not because of the writing style but because of the topic it was dealing with. Makes one realise just how complacent we have all become, sitting in our homes on our soft comfy couches, while genocide, suffering and human rights atrocities goes on in other countries.
The Bible by God - I'll admit I don't read it all that often, and when I do, it's usually only a couple of chapters at a time. But I have this to say about it. Everytime that I do open it, it speaks to me and comforts me in a way that nothing ever can.
Syrup by Max Barry - laugh out funny. This guy is brilliant in presenting marketing, public relations and capitalism from a whole new perspective. He does satire really well and criticises society as we know it in a way without us even realising it. He opened up my eyes to the industry I'm working in. And maybe I'm a little more cynical thanks to him, but I'm not complaining.
The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis - a children's classic that I only got to know at age 22. Who would have thought one could marry fantasy and Christianity? CS Lewis successfully created a world that would have rivalled Middle-earth. His writings are a source of inspiration to me. Entertaining on one level, but extremely deep, profound and full of analogies if read from a Christian perspective. There are so many lessons and so many layers one can find from Narnia which slowly reveals itself one at a time everytime one reads it.
Nightwatch by Terry Prattchet - the first book that introduced me to the magical, strange and completely random Discworld.
5) Tag 5 people and have them fill this out on their blogs:
the X facta
Where is the Justice?
I am QUEEN
The Sharona Tree
Idas thoughts
Introducing the Literati Baton...
1) Total number of books I’ve owned:
Do you ask a writer how many pens he owns? Do you ask Imelda Marcos how many pairs of shoes she owns? How am I supposed to answer this question when I buy books more often than I buy clothes, shoes or CDs?
2) The last book I bought:
The last real book I bought was The New Australian & New Zealand Public Relations Manual. For work. But that's boring stuff.
The last book I bought for leisure reading were actually three books. It was on a 3 for $50 special, I couldn't resist!
Notes From a Small Island by Bill Bryson - brings back fond memories of my year in England
Almost French by Sarah Turnbull - spending that one week in Paris with Kristin made me want to be almost French myself!
The third book...well...tells you how significant it is when I've forgotten what it is. Hey, it was 3 for $50! I had to find a third book!!
3) The last book I read:
The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett - after reading his books in a completely random and haphazard way, the anal-retentive in me has called out to me to read them in the sequence they were published. For anyone looking for satire, British humour and utter brilliance, Pratchett's your man.
4) 5 books that mean a lot to me:
We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families by Philip Gourevitch - great journalism work that brought out the activist in me. It's not an easy read, not because of the writing style but because of the topic it was dealing with. Makes one realise just how complacent we have all become, sitting in our homes on our soft comfy couches, while genocide, suffering and human rights atrocities goes on in other countries.
The Bible by God - I'll admit I don't read it all that often, and when I do, it's usually only a couple of chapters at a time. But I have this to say about it. Everytime that I do open it, it speaks to me and comforts me in a way that nothing ever can.
Syrup by Max Barry - laugh out funny. This guy is brilliant in presenting marketing, public relations and capitalism from a whole new perspective. He does satire really well and criticises society as we know it in a way without us even realising it. He opened up my eyes to the industry I'm working in. And maybe I'm a little more cynical thanks to him, but I'm not complaining.
The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis - a children's classic that I only got to know at age 22. Who would have thought one could marry fantasy and Christianity? CS Lewis successfully created a world that would have rivalled Middle-earth. His writings are a source of inspiration to me. Entertaining on one level, but extremely deep, profound and full of analogies if read from a Christian perspective. There are so many lessons and so many layers one can find from Narnia which slowly reveals itself one at a time everytime one reads it.
Nightwatch by Terry Prattchet - the first book that introduced me to the magical, strange and completely random Discworld.
5) Tag 5 people and have them fill this out on their blogs:
the X facta
Where is the Justice?
I am QUEEN
The Sharona Tree
Idas thoughts
Monday, 30 May 2005
Flowers from dear friends to cheer me up...
Thank you Kristin, Chris, Allen and Andrea...the flowers certainly brought some cheer to my office.
Friday, 27 May 2005
my grandmother passed away last week.
In all honesty, I am still unable to come to grips with it. It's like she's simply gone away for a holiday, and that when I return from Australia the next time, she'll be there, in her house, waiting to stuff me full with all the wonderful food that she cooks.
At least I managed to catch a last glimpse of her before she passed away. It is quite amazing how one is able to buy an airticket and fly from Sydney to Singapore all within 7 hours. And yet, it's still not ideal. Not that there could be any ideal last goodbyes, but by the time I arrived in the hospital, she had been heavily sedated and although she did show some signs of acknowledgement, I'm still not entirely sure if she knew I was there.
I just wish I could have one last conversation with her.
I just wish I had stayed for the Chinese New Year, instead of rushing off to work.
I just wish...I am reaching the point of irrationality.
It is never easy to handle death, I mean, I had to handle my own father's passing away seven years ago and I'm still coming to terms with it. But this is also different because it all happened so suddenly. But I am fortunate enough to have spent some time by my grandmother's bedside for 2 days before she passed away. What about others who have lost someone within a matter of 2 minutes?
I miss her. I miss her terribly.
This is the woman who raised me.
This is the woman who spoils me rotten, ensuring I get all my favourite meals whenever I return from overseas.
This is the woman whom I spend most Sundays with, whenever I'm in the country.
This is the woman who will call the family up, just to chat, or because she saw something interesting on TV.
This is the woman who tries to shrug me off whenever I hug her, but always does it with a pleased smile and twinkle in her eye.
This is the woman who constantly bugs me to provide her with a grandson-in-law, preferably Caucasion because "they treat their wives better".
This is the woman who has gone to sleep and left a hole in my heart.
Like with my father, I don't think I'll ever stop missing her. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering how things would be different if she was around. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking how nice it would be for her to witness something significant that has happened in my life.
And yet, I am going to believe that God is in charge. I will believe that God has everything under control. I believe that everything has gone according to God's will.
I cannot answer why she had to go now, to go so soon, to go the way she did. But I have full faith that God has a plan. And I have found a few rays of sunshine.
I have always wondered why I had to spend the whole of last year in Singapore, working in a place that nearly killed my soul. But if I wasn't forced to be in Singapore, it would mean I'd have been away from home for 5 years and I would never have been able to spend the amount of time I did with my grandmother.
Maybe it's self-centred, but I believe God brought me back to Singapore for a reason. And yes, I found many different reasons why I had to be in Singapore in 2004, but I know the true reason is so that I could spend quality time with my grandmother.
Also, had it not been for her funeral, and the pyschotic relatives who refuse to leave us to grieve but instead choose to create trouble and add trauma by determining what we should do during the funeral because otherwise "her soul will find no rest", I would not have sat down to talk to my grandfather, just so that I could shield him from the poisonous talks the pyschotic relatives were giving him.
I honestly never knew my grandfather before this. We were never close. Our conversations consisted of hellos and goodbyes, and always required translations. I was convinced I didn't speak his language and would never understand it.
But for the three days of my grandmother's wake, he has provided me with so many interesting stories about his life, I still wonder why hadn't I tried before. We were still speaking different languages, but somehow, we could get enough of each other's language to understand each other. It was brilliant.
So yes, I still mourning the loss of my grandmother. I still miss her terribly and whenever the full knowledge of her death hits me, I am still unable to control the tears that spring up in my eyes. And I certainly wish things could be different.
But I'm glad that I have treated her right when she was alive. That her death has left me without the guilt that I should not have treated her the way I did.
And I am still clinging on to the faith that God has everything under control and that even though there is pain, there is also peace.
In all honesty, I am still unable to come to grips with it. It's like she's simply gone away for a holiday, and that when I return from Australia the next time, she'll be there, in her house, waiting to stuff me full with all the wonderful food that she cooks.
At least I managed to catch a last glimpse of her before she passed away. It is quite amazing how one is able to buy an airticket and fly from Sydney to Singapore all within 7 hours. And yet, it's still not ideal. Not that there could be any ideal last goodbyes, but by the time I arrived in the hospital, she had been heavily sedated and although she did show some signs of acknowledgement, I'm still not entirely sure if she knew I was there.
I just wish I could have one last conversation with her.
I just wish I had stayed for the Chinese New Year, instead of rushing off to work.
I just wish...I am reaching the point of irrationality.
It is never easy to handle death, I mean, I had to handle my own father's passing away seven years ago and I'm still coming to terms with it. But this is also different because it all happened so suddenly. But I am fortunate enough to have spent some time by my grandmother's bedside for 2 days before she passed away. What about others who have lost someone within a matter of 2 minutes?
I miss her. I miss her terribly.
This is the woman who raised me.
This is the woman who spoils me rotten, ensuring I get all my favourite meals whenever I return from overseas.
This is the woman whom I spend most Sundays with, whenever I'm in the country.
This is the woman who will call the family up, just to chat, or because she saw something interesting on TV.
This is the woman who tries to shrug me off whenever I hug her, but always does it with a pleased smile and twinkle in her eye.
This is the woman who constantly bugs me to provide her with a grandson-in-law, preferably Caucasion because "they treat their wives better".
This is the woman who has gone to sleep and left a hole in my heart.
Like with my father, I don't think I'll ever stop missing her. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering how things would be different if she was around. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking how nice it would be for her to witness something significant that has happened in my life.
And yet, I am going to believe that God is in charge. I will believe that God has everything under control. I believe that everything has gone according to God's will.
I cannot answer why she had to go now, to go so soon, to go the way she did. But I have full faith that God has a plan. And I have found a few rays of sunshine.
I have always wondered why I had to spend the whole of last year in Singapore, working in a place that nearly killed my soul. But if I wasn't forced to be in Singapore, it would mean I'd have been away from home for 5 years and I would never have been able to spend the amount of time I did with my grandmother.
Maybe it's self-centred, but I believe God brought me back to Singapore for a reason. And yes, I found many different reasons why I had to be in Singapore in 2004, but I know the true reason is so that I could spend quality time with my grandmother.
Also, had it not been for her funeral, and the pyschotic relatives who refuse to leave us to grieve but instead choose to create trouble and add trauma by determining what we should do during the funeral because otherwise "her soul will find no rest", I would not have sat down to talk to my grandfather, just so that I could shield him from the poisonous talks the pyschotic relatives were giving him.
I honestly never knew my grandfather before this. We were never close. Our conversations consisted of hellos and goodbyes, and always required translations. I was convinced I didn't speak his language and would never understand it.
But for the three days of my grandmother's wake, he has provided me with so many interesting stories about his life, I still wonder why hadn't I tried before. We were still speaking different languages, but somehow, we could get enough of each other's language to understand each other. It was brilliant.
So yes, I still mourning the loss of my grandmother. I still miss her terribly and whenever the full knowledge of her death hits me, I am still unable to control the tears that spring up in my eyes. And I certainly wish things could be different.
But I'm glad that I have treated her right when she was alive. That her death has left me without the guilt that I should not have treated her the way I did.
And I am still clinging on to the faith that God has everything under control and that even though there is pain, there is also peace.
Sunday, 15 May 2005
I have fallen in love...with Bondi Beach.
No, not the beach, but Bondi Beach as a whole.
Decided to venture into unknown territory today and have unbelievably found a place that has made me excited again. I used to like Sydney. But after a year in England, I have to say that London utterly spoilt Sydney for me. But now that I've found Bondi Beach, maybe life isn't so bad after all.
It's not the view that drew me. I've been to far nicer beaches with far more coastlines with less people and residential areas and in all honesty, the beach at Bondi does not rank very high up in my list of great beaches (not that I'm an expert, of course).
But the whole atmosphere of the area, with its lovely Sunday market selling all sorts of cool and artistic handmade knick-knacks, clothes and whatnots, was extremely charming.
I was drawn by the Sunday market and the numerous surf shops and cafes lining the main street. But what ultimately made me fall in love with the place is Gertrude & Alice's Cafe Bookshop.
This has just gotta be one of the most gorgeous bookshop I've ever been to.
The shop is laid out in a U-shape, and lining all the walls are shelves and shelves of all sorts of books under the sun. And it's not like your Borders bookshop where everything is crisp, new and brightly shining. The books at G & A's have personality and character. Some are new, but most are 2nd hand books.
And in between the two walls, there are wooden benches and tables for customers to eat and read. The beauty of it all is that they serve true blue cafe-style food, of which I have a weakness for, and one can simply sit there eating, drinking or simply reading for as long as one likes!
There is a really relaxed and cosy atmosphere to the whole place, with soft jazzy music playing in the background, books haphazardly thrown about the place, a big couch to one side of the shop and people simply sitting around, reading, writing and typing away on their computers.
I stayed there for more than an hour, reading and writing and simply soaking up the atmosphere.
I have been absolutely charmed.
No, not the beach, but Bondi Beach as a whole.
Decided to venture into unknown territory today and have unbelievably found a place that has made me excited again. I used to like Sydney. But after a year in England, I have to say that London utterly spoilt Sydney for me. But now that I've found Bondi Beach, maybe life isn't so bad after all.
It's not the view that drew me. I've been to far nicer beaches with far more coastlines with less people and residential areas and in all honesty, the beach at Bondi does not rank very high up in my list of great beaches (not that I'm an expert, of course).
But the whole atmosphere of the area, with its lovely Sunday market selling all sorts of cool and artistic handmade knick-knacks, clothes and whatnots, was extremely charming.
I was drawn by the Sunday market and the numerous surf shops and cafes lining the main street. But what ultimately made me fall in love with the place is Gertrude & Alice's Cafe Bookshop.
This has just gotta be one of the most gorgeous bookshop I've ever been to.
The shop is laid out in a U-shape, and lining all the walls are shelves and shelves of all sorts of books under the sun. And it's not like your Borders bookshop where everything is crisp, new and brightly shining. The books at G & A's have personality and character. Some are new, but most are 2nd hand books.
And in between the two walls, there are wooden benches and tables for customers to eat and read. The beauty of it all is that they serve true blue cafe-style food, of which I have a weakness for, and one can simply sit there eating, drinking or simply reading for as long as one likes!
There is a really relaxed and cosy atmosphere to the whole place, with soft jazzy music playing in the background, books haphazardly thrown about the place, a big couch to one side of the shop and people simply sitting around, reading, writing and typing away on their computers.
I stayed there for more than an hour, reading and writing and simply soaking up the atmosphere.
I have been absolutely charmed.
Saturday, 14 May 2005
This coming Monday, May 16 is World Debt Day.
A day to remember those in the Third World who are trapped, through no fault of their own, in a cycle of unpayable debt. May 16 commemorates the day in 1998 when 70,000 people formed a human chain around the G8 summit in Birmingham England. They were calling for debt justice for poor countries and greater accountability for past Cold War and irresponsible loans.
As a result of the international Jubilee 2000 campaign, 15 poor countries have had significant portions of their debts cancelled, since 2000. However, despite the achievements since 2000, there still remains:
A day to remember those in the Third World who are trapped, through no fault of their own, in a cycle of unpayable debt. May 16 commemorates the day in 1998 when 70,000 people formed a human chain around the G8 summit in Birmingham England. They were calling for debt justice for poor countries and greater accountability for past Cold War and irresponsible loans.
As a result of the international Jubilee 2000 campaign, 15 poor countries have had significant portions of their debts cancelled, since 2000. However, despite the achievements since 2000, there still remains:
- 40 plus other poor countries not supported by the World Banks' Heavily Indebted Poor Country Initiative
- the countries with debts cancelled still have at least 14 to 21 years of outstanding debts, and rich countries receive three dollars in debt repayments for every dollar they give in aid.
- the 66 poorest countries still owe billion, nearly ten times more than the 50 billion in nominal debt relief given!
- there still remains no permanent exit to the debt problem given the World Bank's Heavily Indebted Poor Country Initiative may soon end.
Why is there a need to call for governments to drop the debt?
What can one do?
Wednesday, 11 May 2005
Shopaholic Anonymous
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I am a shopaholic.
I have conquered and contributed greatly to the economies of shopping havens like Paris, London, Melbourne and Singapore. On Sundays, you can almost invariably find me at Sydney's Pitt St Mall, or the markets at The Rocks. On holiday? Forget simply basking in the sun at the beach or taking in the normal touristy sights. I get cranky if there isn't a day set aside for the pure and simple joy of consuming.
Friends have long since learnt that one of the ways to cheer me up is to take me shopping. Even my boss knows I will be engaging in some sort of retail therapy on my days off. People have taken to threatening to tie me down whenever we walk past shops on our way to somewhere.
Give me a credit card, seven hours without interruption and a shopping complex. You will get a very happy camper by the end of the day. I have literally suffered from withdrawal symptoms when stranded in rural Australia for weeks where the local grocery store was the only form of shopping.
Up to a few months ago, it wasn't so much the purchasing that consumed me. After all, I was virtually living the life of a fresh graduate with bills to pay but no means of doing so. But even window-shopping and the occasional ring of the cash register and attainment of a blouse satisfied me.
Life has certainly changed drastically for me now that I am employed full-time with a consistent fortnightly paycheck. I don't get into a shopping frenzy per se, but the ability to buy something without having to worry too much about my finances most certainly help.
Shopping now is not so much done with a "need to have" reason, but spurred more by the emotional reaction of "ooh, that looks nice." Within the last two months, I have successfully become the Princess of Consumerism. After all, I now have the means to look the part of a fashionista, wearing the latest outfits in the coolest colours complemented by the trendiest accessories.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I am a Christian. I have conquered sin through the blood of Christ and am trying to contribute to the work of the church in making the world a better place. On Saturdays, you can almost invariably find me at church, worshiping God and attempting to deepen my relationship with him.
Friends have long since learnt that I am happiest when working for a non-profit organisation, striving towards helping others. Even my boss knows I will willingly engage in some sort of project that will help others achieve hope, a better lifestyle and the ability to alleviate suffering.
I strive to be Christlike in everything I do. Except, I'm responsible for the deaths and suffering of people all around the world. Deaths and suffering resulting from my inadvertent need to consume. A need spurred on by society's pressure to look good in the latest and trendiest.
"What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" asks Jesus (Mark 8:36) .
There are so many things under the sun that I can gain with my shopaholic tendencies. There are in fact, many things under the sun that I have gained with my shopaholic tendencies. Clothing made by small children and women paid far below poverty wage in sweatshops where only two bathroom breaks are allowed in a 14-hour workday. Non-fair trade chocolate made from cocoa beans harvested by slave labourers who should be in school and not being beaten and working in such harsh conditions.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I have forfeited my soul.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm not calling for the mass boycott of shopping malls all over the world. I am too addicted to do that without suffering major emotional implications. I'm simply asking for all of us to be more aware of the items that we are consuming.
To be aware that the items we buy may have been made through the exploitation of fellow human beings.
To be aware that through our very actions, we may have become an accessory to the murder of a woman in a sweatshop, to the continued abuse of a young child in the farms.
To be aware that consuming is not bad in itself, but blind consumerism is.
To be aware that as a decent human being, we should participate in some form of responsible shopping that will help make the world a better place.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I would like to become a responsible shopaholic.
For more information on responsible shopping, visit:
One Big Village
Oxfam
Fair Trade Association of Australia and New Zealand
Green Vehicle Guide
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I am a shopaholic.
I have conquered and contributed greatly to the economies of shopping havens like Paris, London, Melbourne and Singapore. On Sundays, you can almost invariably find me at Sydney's Pitt St Mall, or the markets at The Rocks. On holiday? Forget simply basking in the sun at the beach or taking in the normal touristy sights. I get cranky if there isn't a day set aside for the pure and simple joy of consuming.
Friends have long since learnt that one of the ways to cheer me up is to take me shopping. Even my boss knows I will be engaging in some sort of retail therapy on my days off. People have taken to threatening to tie me down whenever we walk past shops on our way to somewhere.
Give me a credit card, seven hours without interruption and a shopping complex. You will get a very happy camper by the end of the day. I have literally suffered from withdrawal symptoms when stranded in rural Australia for weeks where the local grocery store was the only form of shopping.
Up to a few months ago, it wasn't so much the purchasing that consumed me. After all, I was virtually living the life of a fresh graduate with bills to pay but no means of doing so. But even window-shopping and the occasional ring of the cash register and attainment of a blouse satisfied me.
Life has certainly changed drastically for me now that I am employed full-time with a consistent fortnightly paycheck. I don't get into a shopping frenzy per se, but the ability to buy something without having to worry too much about my finances most certainly help.
Shopping now is not so much done with a "need to have" reason, but spurred more by the emotional reaction of "ooh, that looks nice." Within the last two months, I have successfully become the Princess of Consumerism. After all, I now have the means to look the part of a fashionista, wearing the latest outfits in the coolest colours complemented by the trendiest accessories.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I am a Christian. I have conquered sin through the blood of Christ and am trying to contribute to the work of the church in making the world a better place. On Saturdays, you can almost invariably find me at church, worshiping God and attempting to deepen my relationship with him.
Friends have long since learnt that I am happiest when working for a non-profit organisation, striving towards helping others. Even my boss knows I will willingly engage in some sort of project that will help others achieve hope, a better lifestyle and the ability to alleviate suffering.
I strive to be Christlike in everything I do. Except, I'm responsible for the deaths and suffering of people all around the world. Deaths and suffering resulting from my inadvertent need to consume. A need spurred on by society's pressure to look good in the latest and trendiest.
"What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" asks Jesus (Mark 8:36) .
There are so many things under the sun that I can gain with my shopaholic tendencies. There are in fact, many things under the sun that I have gained with my shopaholic tendencies. Clothing made by small children and women paid far below poverty wage in sweatshops where only two bathroom breaks are allowed in a 14-hour workday. Non-fair trade chocolate made from cocoa beans harvested by slave labourers who should be in school and not being beaten and working in such harsh conditions.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I have forfeited my soul.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm not calling for the mass boycott of shopping malls all over the world. I am too addicted to do that without suffering major emotional implications. I'm simply asking for all of us to be more aware of the items that we are consuming.
To be aware that the items we buy may have been made through the exploitation of fellow human beings.
To be aware that through our very actions, we may have become an accessory to the murder of a woman in a sweatshop, to the continued abuse of a young child in the farms.
To be aware that consuming is not bad in itself, but blind consumerism is.
To be aware that as a decent human being, we should participate in some form of responsible shopping that will help make the world a better place.
Hi, my name is Melody Tan and I would like to become a responsible shopaholic.
For more information on responsible shopping, visit:
One Big Village
Oxfam
Fair Trade Association of Australia and New Zealand
Green Vehicle Guide
Tuesday, 10 May 2005
Not only am I going to Fiji, I've been asked to be her bridesmaid!
Beachside wedding, warm sunshine, tropical island, an aqua-coloured dress, no shoes...I could get used to this!
Beachside wedding, warm sunshine, tropical island, an aqua-coloured dress, no shoes...I could get used to this!
like the new look?
Thanks to Faith, I am now able to receive comments posted on my blog direct to my email.
Apparently, there's also a rss feed, which honestly, is something that I have yet to figure out what it exactly means.
For those as clueless as me, she says, "rss feeds mean that people don't have to actually 'go' to your site.. they can subscribe to the feed and have the updated posts automatically sent to the rss readers."
More work needs to go into researching that, which unfortunately will not happen within this week.
Thanks to Faith, I am now able to receive comments posted on my blog direct to my email.
Apparently, there's also a rss feed, which honestly, is something that I have yet to figure out what it exactly means.
For those as clueless as me, she says, "rss feeds mean that people don't have to actually 'go' to your site.. they can subscribe to the feed and have the updated posts automatically sent to the rss readers."
More work needs to go into researching that, which unfortunately will not happen within this week.
Monday, 9 May 2005
There's Something About Mary
It all began when I heard a Friday night sermon suggesting that Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany (the one with the famous siblings called Martha and Lazarus) were actually the same person. Within a span of a month, be it during a sermon at church, a morning worship at work, or a book I happened to pick up, the message sent out was clear - the two Marys were the same.
Yet, I wasn't convinced. In fact, I became even more adamant that they were two different people who happened to share the same name. After all, the name Mary is an extremely common one, probably more so back in Jesus' time than now.
However, I had nothing to back my beliefs up, besides perhaps the non-scientifically, non-academically thing called gut instinct.
By the time I heard the fourth sermon, I was convinced I had to do something about Mary. To do something not as an attempt to demonstrate my extensive knowledge or intelligence, of which I know is an oxymoron when applied to me. Neither is this a means to prove that the preachers I've heard are flawed in any way. This is simply a quest to quell my own curiosity, as well as a gnawing feeling that perhaps God wanted me to find out the answer for myself.
Doing a quick word search through the Bible using the computer, it was not difficult to find the several Marys significant in Jesus' life. Mary, the mother of Jesus, was easily identifiable. Whenever she is mentioned, there is almost always a mother and son relationship mentioned. The Virgin Mary is frequently referred to either as the mother of Jesus (Luke 2:34), the mother of Jesus' brothers James and Joses (Mark 15:47, 16:1) or the wife of Joseph (Matthew 1:20). Sometimes, she is also "the other Mary" (Matthew 27:61), but there is almost never a chance that she could be confused with another Mary.
I would like to say that the same can also be said of Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany. Reading through the Gospels, Mary Magdalene is always identified by reference to her home village Magda, while Mary of Bethany seems to have been known always as one of the pair of sisters who were sufficiently identified by reference to each other.
I cannot claim to be an expert on ancient Palestinian geography, something that would certainly disappoint my ex-Religion lecturers, but I would assume that Magda and Bethany are two completely different locations. This gives rise to the reason why Mary Magdalene is associated with Magda, while Mary of Bethany is said to come from, well, Bethany (John 11:1). Had the two locations been the same, why are they constantly referred to by two different names? Unless Magda and Bethany are like how we would call Holland and the Netherlands today?
Yet, we are first introduced to Mary Magadelene by Luke, he immediately establishes she is "called Magdalene" (Luke 8:2). On the other hand, Luke introduces Mary of Bethany as Martha's sister (Luke 10:39). John first refers to the sister in a way that indicates that "Mary and her sister Martha" were already well known as such to his readers, whereas it was necesary to explain that Lazarus, whose name John never uses to identify either sister, was their brother (John 11:1-2; 12:2-3). If they were the same person, was there really a need to introduce them twice?
Why is it then that the two Marys are often thought to be the same person? Perhaps it does not help that in the early church, Mary of Bethany was frequently identified with Mary Magdalene - Gnostic literature certainly says the two women are identical (Gospel Women, Richard Bauckham, 2002).
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that both Marys seemed to be associated as women of poor repute?
After all, Mary of Bethany definitely poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair (John 11:2; 12:3). And in Luke's recording of the same account, she is said to have lived a sinful life in that town (Luke 7:37). There is an implication of course that the sinful life is that of being a prostitute and if Mary of Bethany is a prostitute, and if Mary Magdalene is a prostitute, then Mary of Bethany and Mary Magdalene must be the same person!
Do they have to be?
Firstly, it is not even firmly established in the Bible that Mary Magdalene is a prostitue. True, she has had seven devils cast out of her by Jesus (Mark 16:9), but this is no proof that she is a prostitute. I am not denying the fact that she is a prostitute, but there is also a possibility that she isn't.
Many have claimed that the lady Jesus saved from being stoned to death in John 8 for adultery was Mary Magdalene. Therefore, Mary Magdalene must be a prostitute. But looking through the account, there wasn't even a hint of a name mentioned. Are we simply assuming things?
My short little study has proven to me that the two Marys are unique individuals, completely unassociated with each other. It has also raised the question as to why we are so convinced Mary Magadalene is a prostitute. Yes, I believe the two Marys are not the same person, but I will certainly be more than happy to hear from soneone who believes they are, and the reasons why.
It all began when I heard a Friday night sermon suggesting that Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany (the one with the famous siblings called Martha and Lazarus) were actually the same person. Within a span of a month, be it during a sermon at church, a morning worship at work, or a book I happened to pick up, the message sent out was clear - the two Marys were the same.
Yet, I wasn't convinced. In fact, I became even more adamant that they were two different people who happened to share the same name. After all, the name Mary is an extremely common one, probably more so back in Jesus' time than now.
However, I had nothing to back my beliefs up, besides perhaps the non-scientifically, non-academically thing called gut instinct.
By the time I heard the fourth sermon, I was convinced I had to do something about Mary. To do something not as an attempt to demonstrate my extensive knowledge or intelligence, of which I know is an oxymoron when applied to me. Neither is this a means to prove that the preachers I've heard are flawed in any way. This is simply a quest to quell my own curiosity, as well as a gnawing feeling that perhaps God wanted me to find out the answer for myself.
Doing a quick word search through the Bible using the computer, it was not difficult to find the several Marys significant in Jesus' life. Mary, the mother of Jesus, was easily identifiable. Whenever she is mentioned, there is almost always a mother and son relationship mentioned. The Virgin Mary is frequently referred to either as the mother of Jesus (Luke 2:34), the mother of Jesus' brothers James and Joses (Mark 15:47, 16:1) or the wife of Joseph (Matthew 1:20). Sometimes, she is also "the other Mary" (Matthew 27:61), but there is almost never a chance that she could be confused with another Mary.
I would like to say that the same can also be said of Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany. Reading through the Gospels, Mary Magdalene is always identified by reference to her home village Magda, while Mary of Bethany seems to have been known always as one of the pair of sisters who were sufficiently identified by reference to each other.
I cannot claim to be an expert on ancient Palestinian geography, something that would certainly disappoint my ex-Religion lecturers, but I would assume that Magda and Bethany are two completely different locations. This gives rise to the reason why Mary Magdalene is associated with Magda, while Mary of Bethany is said to come from, well, Bethany (John 11:1). Had the two locations been the same, why are they constantly referred to by two different names? Unless Magda and Bethany are like how we would call Holland and the Netherlands today?
Yet, we are first introduced to Mary Magadelene by Luke, he immediately establishes she is "called Magdalene" (Luke 8:2). On the other hand, Luke introduces Mary of Bethany as Martha's sister (Luke 10:39). John first refers to the sister in a way that indicates that "Mary and her sister Martha" were already well known as such to his readers, whereas it was necesary to explain that Lazarus, whose name John never uses to identify either sister, was their brother (John 11:1-2; 12:2-3). If they were the same person, was there really a need to introduce them twice?
Why is it then that the two Marys are often thought to be the same person? Perhaps it does not help that in the early church, Mary of Bethany was frequently identified with Mary Magdalene - Gnostic literature certainly says the two women are identical (Gospel Women, Richard Bauckham, 2002).
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that both Marys seemed to be associated as women of poor repute?
After all, Mary of Bethany definitely poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair (John 11:2; 12:3). And in Luke's recording of the same account, she is said to have lived a sinful life in that town (Luke 7:37). There is an implication of course that the sinful life is that of being a prostitute and if Mary of Bethany is a prostitute, and if Mary Magdalene is a prostitute, then Mary of Bethany and Mary Magdalene must be the same person!
Do they have to be?
Firstly, it is not even firmly established in the Bible that Mary Magdalene is a prostitue. True, she has had seven devils cast out of her by Jesus (Mark 16:9), but this is no proof that she is a prostitute. I am not denying the fact that she is a prostitute, but there is also a possibility that she isn't.
Many have claimed that the lady Jesus saved from being stoned to death in John 8 for adultery was Mary Magdalene. Therefore, Mary Magdalene must be a prostitute. But looking through the account, there wasn't even a hint of a name mentioned. Are we simply assuming things?
My short little study has proven to me that the two Marys are unique individuals, completely unassociated with each other. It has also raised the question as to why we are so convinced Mary Magadalene is a prostitute. Yes, I believe the two Marys are not the same person, but I will certainly be more than happy to hear from soneone who believes they are, and the reasons why.
Sunday, 8 May 2005
Taken from the Oxfam website:
Trade has the potential to lift millions of people in developing countries out of poverty. But unfair trade rules are making millions of people even poorer. We want the World Trade Organisation, United States of America and the European Union to change global trade rules so that they benefit the poor by:
Trade has the potential to lift millions of people in developing countries out of poverty. But unfair trade rules are making millions of people even poorer. We want the World Trade Organisation, United States of America and the European Union to change global trade rules so that they benefit the poor by:
- Abolishing subsidies in rich countries that lead to the over-production of agricultural products. This leads to the dumping of these products on the world market at below cost prices, severely undermining the income of poor families.
- Giving developing countries the power to decide when and how they liberalise their agricultural trade so they can ensure that millions of poor small scale farmers, producing key crops like rice, poultry, cotton and milk, have an adequate income.
Take action, sign the online petition now.
Saturday, 7 May 2005
i was given an unbelievable compliment this evening.
the mother of one of the nursing students in the dorm came into the kitchen while I was making some dinner for myself.
"That looks interesting," she says, looking at me trying to cook up a meal of instant mee-goreng (dry noodles), white mushrooms, egg and Chinese spinach.
She goes on to say, "You really should start up a cooking class for the girls here so that they can cook up a good meal for themselves."
Go on, laugh.
the mother of one of the nursing students in the dorm came into the kitchen while I was making some dinner for myself.
"That looks interesting," she says, looking at me trying to cook up a meal of instant mee-goreng (dry noodles), white mushrooms, egg and Chinese spinach.
She goes on to say, "You really should start up a cooking class for the girls here so that they can cook up a good meal for themselves."
Go on, laugh.
Thursday, 5 May 2005
it is finished.
Completed.
The end.
No more.
5 weeks of media work for the 6 cyclists cycling across Australia to address at risk behaviour among young people has drawn to a close at the steps of the Sydney Town Hall at 1.30pm this afternoon.
Except the ideas bouncing around about writing a book about the whole event. But will think about that when that becomes a little more concrete.
In the meantime, I don't want to see a bicycle anytime soon.
Completed.
The end.
No more.
5 weeks of media work for the 6 cyclists cycling across Australia to address at risk behaviour among young people has drawn to a close at the steps of the Sydney Town Hall at 1.30pm this afternoon.
Except the ideas bouncing around about writing a book about the whole event. But will think about that when that becomes a little more concrete.
In the meantime, I don't want to see a bicycle anytime soon.
Wednesday, 4 May 2005
my mobile phone has given up the ghost.
I can still make and receive calls. In fact, I can even listen to what the person on the other end have to say. They just can't hear me. Goodness knows what's wrong.
Guess it's time to shop for a new phone now...
At least it didn't die when I was on the tour and was heavily reliant on the phone when I had coverage.
There goes my plans to get the Nokia 7280. At almost $1,000, it is way out of my budget.
I'm considering the Nokia 6230. What with a corporate price, I can get it for about $480.
Suggestions, anyone?
I can still make and receive calls. In fact, I can even listen to what the person on the other end have to say. They just can't hear me. Goodness knows what's wrong.
Guess it's time to shop for a new phone now...
At least it didn't die when I was on the tour and was heavily reliant on the phone when I had coverage.
There goes my plans to get the Nokia 7280. At almost $1,000, it is way out of my budget.
I'm considering the Nokia 6230. What with a corporate price, I can get it for about $480.
Suggestions, anyone?
Saturday, 30 April 2005
one night in my own bed. That's all I got.
Upon returning from the cycle tour, all I got is one night in my own bed on Thursday, and then it was off to Avondale for a long weekend.
Kristin is directing the play The Devil's Disciple by George Bernard Shaw at Avondale and tonight's opening night. Have to do what best friends do and be there for the play, so after one night in my bed, I'm spending 3 nights in the Avondale dorm bed...
Actually woke up completely confused in the middle of the night last night, with absolutely no idea where I was.
Will be back in Sydney on Monday evening.
Maybe this blog will resume some normality after that.
Upon returning from the cycle tour, all I got is one night in my own bed on Thursday, and then it was off to Avondale for a long weekend.
Kristin is directing the play The Devil's Disciple by George Bernard Shaw at Avondale and tonight's opening night. Have to do what best friends do and be there for the play, so after one night in my bed, I'm spending 3 nights in the Avondale dorm bed...
Actually woke up completely confused in the middle of the night last night, with absolutely no idea where I was.
Will be back in Sydney on Monday evening.
Maybe this blog will resume some normality after that.
Monday, 25 April 2005
it is true that once you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up.
Mal, the cameraman, got a rental car yesterday for the tour. Guess who's his travelling companion now?
What with the fact that I'm now in a completely different vehicle, travelling at 100km/h and having conversations with the ones who annoy me kept to a minimum, I'm actually enjoying this trip!
Just too bad the extra car wasn't obtained a week before. And just when the trip's getting better, I leave at the end of two days.
Still grateful that I'm returning to civilisation though.
Mal, the cameraman, got a rental car yesterday for the tour. Guess who's his travelling companion now?
What with the fact that I'm now in a completely different vehicle, travelling at 100km/h and having conversations with the ones who annoy me kept to a minimum, I'm actually enjoying this trip!
Just too bad the extra car wasn't obtained a week before. And just when the trip's getting better, I leave at the end of two days.
Still grateful that I'm returning to civilisation though.
Sunday, 24 April 2005
I’ve always thought my job is easily understandable, without needing much explanation. After all, in this day and age, we are so inundated with the media that practically everybody grew up at least indirectly knowing someone heavily involved with either journalism, public relations, marketing or television or radio production.
I never thought people who don’t understand the media and what I do, existed. Then again, if they didn’t, why do people like me need to go to university to study communication? How naïve of me.
My job for this 5 week cycle tour had been to develop media relations, ensuring premium media coverage for the entire event. I’m supposed to write up media releases, arrange for press, TV or radio interviews/coverage, provide the latest news, as well as help maintain the website with the webmistress. Pitching the story to the media is not easy work, sometimes repetitive, often lacking recognition, but certainly satisfying.
I’ve always loved doing background work like this. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always told my friends who think I crave the limelight, “I studied Communication, not Theatre Studies.” I’m happy with staying out of the attention, but arranging it so that someone else gets it.
And I’ve been very satisfied with my work so far. We have had numerous coverage by all forms of media. I don’t care that my name hasn’t been mentioned once, or that I haven’t been thanked once. All I need is the knowledge that I’ve done my job, and that my boss knows that too.
Sadly, I’ve come to realise, in the eyes of some people in the team, this usually means that I get taken for a freeloader. Someone tagging along on the trip for a free tour across Australia and for the free food.
Yes, this may be a once in a lifetime experience, but I am perfectly happy with living in the city instead of trudging across the burnt countryside of Australia at 30km/h with only sandwiches for lunch, 5 hours of sleep daily and so far away from creature comforts. I’m not knocking the trip. I’m only expressing my exasperation as to how misunderstood I have been.
My scope of work, to the understanding of some people, has been relegated to simply taking photos for the website and making sure that the details on it are correct. The number of times I’ve been ordered to take certain photos of certain people, the moments when it’s been mentioned, “Oh, Melody has to do some media work – she needs to take photos of the website,” has been incredible.
To top it off, I was once told, not very nicely, to make an immediate phonecall back to the office so that the name of one of the team members can be changed. Yes, I admit that there has been a mistake and it needs to be rectified. But I am stuck in the middle of nowhere without mobile coverage, and in the grand scheme of things, the name is not that important. After all, it’s probably the least visited page in the entire website.
The aim of the website is to get the word out as to what the cyclists are doing, the message they’re bringing to the communities. It’s not about them, much less the support crew. It’s not about how often their family members see their photos on the page – I am certainly not paid to maintain a “Look at me” website. I am paid to ensure the message gets out.
But logic obviously does not work when self-importance comes into play. So a CDMA phone with coverage gets shoved in my face and the demand, “make the phonecall back to work so that the change can be made NOW,” was given. Who cares that I had promised to call back to work when we arrive in the motel later in the day? Who cares that the cyclists are already a kilometre down the road and would need protection from the support cars that are waiting around to ensure that I have made that call?
More ironical the fact that the people making the demands have been calling me Melanie from day one.
Journalism and public relations work seem to be such a misunderstood line of work. I am here to create media interest, not focus on the logistics of the tour. But when we arrive in town and do not know where to go, I get the blame for not organising it properly. When the town mayor comes out to meet the cyclists and I had no idea about it because I wasn’t informed, I get incredulous looks for not recognising him.
Sometimes, I wonder what they think I’m on the trip for when even my knowledge about writing and journalism gets doubted.
When I mentioned in passing that a journalist can conduct a one hour interview with someone and include only parts of the entire conversation and not have to justify himself, I get shocked looks of horror.
Seriously, which journalist in their right frame of mind will include EVERYTHING that is said in an interview? That’s why journalists need to practice their writing and analytical skills, as well as their ability to ask the right questions. Otherwise, why bother hiring a journalist? It would be more cost effective to buy a tape recorder.
I’m not exactly reeling from the shock as to how some people have such limited knowledge, or should I say, absent knowledge as to how the media works. I’m reeling from the anger that despite their minimal knowledge, they deem it their right in life to tell me how I should do my work.
The media does not make firm commitments to cover events. If the pope has died, who would honestly be interested in talking to six cyclists cycling across Australia, an event repeated by different people several times a year?
Yet, when a TV crew or journalist changes their mind about turning up for a photoshoot or an interview, I get snide remarks and doubtful looks. And the person no longer believes me when I say another TV crew will be meeting them in another town.
How does one work in such an environment of distrust and lack of understanding?
Thankfully, this will all end on Wednesday night when I return to Sydney from Mildura.
I never thought people who don’t understand the media and what I do, existed. Then again, if they didn’t, why do people like me need to go to university to study communication? How naïve of me.
My job for this 5 week cycle tour had been to develop media relations, ensuring premium media coverage for the entire event. I’m supposed to write up media releases, arrange for press, TV or radio interviews/coverage, provide the latest news, as well as help maintain the website with the webmistress. Pitching the story to the media is not easy work, sometimes repetitive, often lacking recognition, but certainly satisfying.
I’ve always loved doing background work like this. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always told my friends who think I crave the limelight, “I studied Communication, not Theatre Studies.” I’m happy with staying out of the attention, but arranging it so that someone else gets it.
And I’ve been very satisfied with my work so far. We have had numerous coverage by all forms of media. I don’t care that my name hasn’t been mentioned once, or that I haven’t been thanked once. All I need is the knowledge that I’ve done my job, and that my boss knows that too.
Sadly, I’ve come to realise, in the eyes of some people in the team, this usually means that I get taken for a freeloader. Someone tagging along on the trip for a free tour across Australia and for the free food.
Yes, this may be a once in a lifetime experience, but I am perfectly happy with living in the city instead of trudging across the burnt countryside of Australia at 30km/h with only sandwiches for lunch, 5 hours of sleep daily and so far away from creature comforts. I’m not knocking the trip. I’m only expressing my exasperation as to how misunderstood I have been.
My scope of work, to the understanding of some people, has been relegated to simply taking photos for the website and making sure that the details on it are correct. The number of times I’ve been ordered to take certain photos of certain people, the moments when it’s been mentioned, “Oh, Melody has to do some media work – she needs to take photos of the website,” has been incredible.
To top it off, I was once told, not very nicely, to make an immediate phonecall back to the office so that the name of one of the team members can be changed. Yes, I admit that there has been a mistake and it needs to be rectified. But I am stuck in the middle of nowhere without mobile coverage, and in the grand scheme of things, the name is not that important. After all, it’s probably the least visited page in the entire website.
The aim of the website is to get the word out as to what the cyclists are doing, the message they’re bringing to the communities. It’s not about them, much less the support crew. It’s not about how often their family members see their photos on the page – I am certainly not paid to maintain a “Look at me” website. I am paid to ensure the message gets out.
But logic obviously does not work when self-importance comes into play. So a CDMA phone with coverage gets shoved in my face and the demand, “make the phonecall back to work so that the change can be made NOW,” was given. Who cares that I had promised to call back to work when we arrive in the motel later in the day? Who cares that the cyclists are already a kilometre down the road and would need protection from the support cars that are waiting around to ensure that I have made that call?
More ironical the fact that the people making the demands have been calling me Melanie from day one.
Journalism and public relations work seem to be such a misunderstood line of work. I am here to create media interest, not focus on the logistics of the tour. But when we arrive in town and do not know where to go, I get the blame for not organising it properly. When the town mayor comes out to meet the cyclists and I had no idea about it because I wasn’t informed, I get incredulous looks for not recognising him.
Sometimes, I wonder what they think I’m on the trip for when even my knowledge about writing and journalism gets doubted.
When I mentioned in passing that a journalist can conduct a one hour interview with someone and include only parts of the entire conversation and not have to justify himself, I get shocked looks of horror.
Seriously, which journalist in their right frame of mind will include EVERYTHING that is said in an interview? That’s why journalists need to practice their writing and analytical skills, as well as their ability to ask the right questions. Otherwise, why bother hiring a journalist? It would be more cost effective to buy a tape recorder.
I’m not exactly reeling from the shock as to how some people have such limited knowledge, or should I say, absent knowledge as to how the media works. I’m reeling from the anger that despite their minimal knowledge, they deem it their right in life to tell me how I should do my work.
The media does not make firm commitments to cover events. If the pope has died, who would honestly be interested in talking to six cyclists cycling across Australia, an event repeated by different people several times a year?
Yet, when a TV crew or journalist changes their mind about turning up for a photoshoot or an interview, I get snide remarks and doubtful looks. And the person no longer believes me when I say another TV crew will be meeting them in another town.
How does one work in such an environment of distrust and lack of understanding?
Thankfully, this will all end on Wednesday night when I return to Sydney from Mildura.
Friday, 22 April 2005
in Kadina tonight.
Exhausted and sleepy. Having only 5 hours sleep and waking up at 4am everyday can take its toll on you. But well, I guess at least I'm not the one cycling 180km each day!
We get to sleep in tomorrow. We don't have to wake up till 7am.
You know you've reached a very sad stage in life when waking up at 7am is considered sleeping in.
I miss my bed....
Exhausted and sleepy. Having only 5 hours sleep and waking up at 4am everyday can take its toll on you. But well, I guess at least I'm not the one cycling 180km each day!
We get to sleep in tomorrow. We don't have to wake up till 7am.
You know you've reached a very sad stage in life when waking up at 7am is considered sleeping in.
I miss my bed....
Wednesday, 20 April 2005
Once again in mobile-less land.
Having an easy day today. Living in the pockets of 12 other people 24/7 does not bode well for the soul. Which means while half of the group are off to the town meeting and the other half out for dinner, I’m staying in my room for a much needed me time.
Have managed to see most of the Australian wildlife by now. Yesterday, foxes, kangaroos and emus were busy crossing the streets which was endless entertainment for me.
The weather is getting much cooler now, which makes 4am starts rather difficult. But the scenery has changed significantly. Travelling so near to the coast now means the landscape is slightly less sunburnt, although still looking significantly dry. However, rest stops consist of frequent visits to small coastal towns with amazing beaches.
Wildlife is in abundance here, have passed several sheep, cows and llamas too I think. Wheat silos are a frequent sight as well.
Still visiting really small tiny towns, although in honesty, I haven’t been able to see much of the places I visit anyway. We’ve been arriving in the early afternoons, but my time has been spent cooped up in front of the computer and phone, busy making arrangements for media commitments.
Interest and fulfilling work, especially when you know that a particular interview has been aired on the radio, and articles and photos have been published in the local newspapers…but it tends to make the trip consist of sitting in the car in the day writing media releases, arriving in towns in the afternoon to make phonecalls and send out emails and attending meetings in the evenings with hopes of hitting the jackpot in terms of stories (which hasn’t happened yet).
Back to work now…
Having an easy day today. Living in the pockets of 12 other people 24/7 does not bode well for the soul. Which means while half of the group are off to the town meeting and the other half out for dinner, I’m staying in my room for a much needed me time.
Have managed to see most of the Australian wildlife by now. Yesterday, foxes, kangaroos and emus were busy crossing the streets which was endless entertainment for me.
The weather is getting much cooler now, which makes 4am starts rather difficult. But the scenery has changed significantly. Travelling so near to the coast now means the landscape is slightly less sunburnt, although still looking significantly dry. However, rest stops consist of frequent visits to small coastal towns with amazing beaches.
Wildlife is in abundance here, have passed several sheep, cows and llamas too I think. Wheat silos are a frequent sight as well.
Still visiting really small tiny towns, although in honesty, I haven’t been able to see much of the places I visit anyway. We’ve been arriving in the early afternoons, but my time has been spent cooped up in front of the computer and phone, busy making arrangements for media commitments.
Interest and fulfilling work, especially when you know that a particular interview has been aired on the radio, and articles and photos have been published in the local newspapers…but it tends to make the trip consist of sitting in the car in the day writing media releases, arriving in towns in the afternoon to make phonecalls and send out emails and attending meetings in the evenings with hopes of hitting the jackpot in terms of stories (which hasn’t happened yet).
Back to work now…
Sunday, 17 April 2005
Streaky Bay. Population 1,000.
A real beautiful little coastal town though. In fact, since I arrived on Friday night, we’ve been having gorgeous coastal scenes, passing through really nice beaches.
My arrival into Ceduna was a once in a lifetime one. Flew into Adelaide from Sydney. Met up with Jess, daughter of one of the riders, at the Adelaide airport. She was on the phone when they made the “first and final” boarding call. As she didn’t get off the phone fast enough, I had the pleasure of having my name called out over the airport PA system, informing me that my “fellow passengers” were waiting for me.
While walking on the tarmac to the plane, spotted one of the small 34 seater planes I took from Newcastle to Gold Coast. Assumed that was our plane until we passed it without stopping, and what came into view was probably the smallest commercial plane in the world.
It only sat 20 people, I literally had a window and aisle seat all at the same time, and once in the plane, one could not stand up straight at all. There were no overhead baggage compartments and hardly any space under the seat in front of me. Most amazingly, I could look right into the cockpit and have a pilot’s eye view of the entire flight. The plane was that small.
The Ceduna Airport was a little wooden shack, and the baggage carousel…well…this guy walked with this trolley towards the plane, unloaded the luggage and dragged them to this waiting area for us to claim our bags.
Talk about small country towns.
The weather has gotten much cooler now…the jackets are all coming out. Much more beautiful views and break stops here though, what with being right by the coast. Still rather dry however.
The days have been pretty easy so far. Late starts of about 8am, and riding into towns at a reasonable hour. Pace will pick up soon though…
A real beautiful little coastal town though. In fact, since I arrived on Friday night, we’ve been having gorgeous coastal scenes, passing through really nice beaches.
My arrival into Ceduna was a once in a lifetime one. Flew into Adelaide from Sydney. Met up with Jess, daughter of one of the riders, at the Adelaide airport. She was on the phone when they made the “first and final” boarding call. As she didn’t get off the phone fast enough, I had the pleasure of having my name called out over the airport PA system, informing me that my “fellow passengers” were waiting for me.
While walking on the tarmac to the plane, spotted one of the small 34 seater planes I took from Newcastle to Gold Coast. Assumed that was our plane until we passed it without stopping, and what came into view was probably the smallest commercial plane in the world.
It only sat 20 people, I literally had a window and aisle seat all at the same time, and once in the plane, one could not stand up straight at all. There were no overhead baggage compartments and hardly any space under the seat in front of me. Most amazingly, I could look right into the cockpit and have a pilot’s eye view of the entire flight. The plane was that small.
The Ceduna Airport was a little wooden shack, and the baggage carousel…well…this guy walked with this trolley towards the plane, unloaded the luggage and dragged them to this waiting area for us to claim our bags.
Talk about small country towns.
The weather has gotten much cooler now…the jackets are all coming out. Much more beautiful views and break stops here though, what with being right by the coast. Still rather dry however.
The days have been pretty easy so far. Late starts of about 8am, and riding into towns at a reasonable hour. Pace will pick up soon though…
Thursday, 14 April 2005
leaving again tomorrow afternoon to join the folks on the cycle tour.
two more weeks of frantic phonecalls to newspapers, radio and tv stations.
two more weeks of living out of a suitcase.
two more weeks of visiting small rural towns with main streets all of 500m long.
two more weeks of furious writing on a laptop in a car going 30km/h.
two more weeks of being paparrazi, sticking the camera in the cyclists' faces.
two more weeks of unreliable internet and mobile phone coverage.
two more weeks of unbelievable, once in a lifetime experience.
two more weeks of frantic phonecalls to newspapers, radio and tv stations.
two more weeks of living out of a suitcase.
two more weeks of visiting small rural towns with main streets all of 500m long.
two more weeks of furious writing on a laptop in a car going 30km/h.
two more weeks of being paparrazi, sticking the camera in the cyclists' faces.
two more weeks of unreliable internet and mobile phone coverage.
two more weeks of unbelievable, once in a lifetime experience.
Tuesday, 12 April 2005
spending money is gooood.....
started off the day in Sydney with a haircut - I now have short dark red hair with red highlights and an asymmetrical fringe. Look like some kind of teenybooper actually and got mistaken for a 18 year old.
Going back to do media work for the cycling dudes on Friday (send them an email if you can! They'll love it!). Hope will get taken seriously with my hair.
Also got a the Oz and NZ Public Relations Handbook, so I can be really studious and read about all the advice I can get with my job. Stupid book cost me $88! Thank goodness for book subsidies...
Fluffed around for other stuff as well...finally bought an autumn jacket in pink. Yes, pink. Not bright pink, or neon pink, but well, pink. The pigs will fly tomorrow. But at least now I won't be too hot or too cold.
And to make myself feel better by betraying my colours, I got a bright yellow scarf.
Oh, and finally donated blood. The blood bank here is really weird. It's in the middle of Sydney, but only opens for very limited hours during the day. No wonder they don't have much blood in the bank...the times when working people actually want to donate, they're closed! If it weren't for my day off today, I doubt I would ever be able to donate!
Bruna wants me to take tomorrow off as well (you can't get a better boss than her), but I may have to go back to work in the arvo...there's just too much media stuff to coordinate!
I am really loving this project at the moment. To be able to call up the media, sell the story idea to them, and then hear them say "yes, we'll like to interview them and feature them in our show/paper/etc." is really satisfying. And then to see it actually published in the newspaper or go live on air...
Who cares that my name is nowhere to be found? Who cares that at the end of the day, the cyclists are the ones that people will remember? Who cares that nobody even knows I exist?
Simply to be able to help them get the recognition they deserve is enough for me.
I love my job...
started off the day in Sydney with a haircut - I now have short dark red hair with red highlights and an asymmetrical fringe. Look like some kind of teenybooper actually and got mistaken for a 18 year old.
Going back to do media work for the cycling dudes on Friday (send them an email if you can! They'll love it!). Hope will get taken seriously with my hair.
Also got a the Oz and NZ Public Relations Handbook, so I can be really studious and read about all the advice I can get with my job. Stupid book cost me $88! Thank goodness for book subsidies...
Fluffed around for other stuff as well...finally bought an autumn jacket in pink. Yes, pink. Not bright pink, or neon pink, but well, pink. The pigs will fly tomorrow. But at least now I won't be too hot or too cold.
And to make myself feel better by betraying my colours, I got a bright yellow scarf.
Oh, and finally donated blood. The blood bank here is really weird. It's in the middle of Sydney, but only opens for very limited hours during the day. No wonder they don't have much blood in the bank...the times when working people actually want to donate, they're closed! If it weren't for my day off today, I doubt I would ever be able to donate!
Bruna wants me to take tomorrow off as well (you can't get a better boss than her), but I may have to go back to work in the arvo...there's just too much media stuff to coordinate!
I am really loving this project at the moment. To be able to call up the media, sell the story idea to them, and then hear them say "yes, we'll like to interview them and feature them in our show/paper/etc." is really satisfying. And then to see it actually published in the newspaper or go live on air...
Who cares that my name is nowhere to be found? Who cares that at the end of the day, the cyclists are the ones that people will remember? Who cares that nobody even knows I exist?
Simply to be able to help them get the recognition they deserve is enough for me.
I love my job...
Monday, 11 April 2005
i'm baaack....for 3 days at least.
so good to be back in my own room. It's not home yet, but it's still my living space.
And better yet that I can finally do some laundry and wear fresh clothes.
Best of all? The ability to finally have conversations with girls my age, not 40 year old MEN. (not that they were lacking in coversation or utterly boring or anything like that. They were really nice people whom I enjoyed talking to. But talking about Johnny Depp, Matchbox 20, shopping and things like that somehow don't really interest them...)
Day off tomorrow. Going to Sydney for a haircut, some shopping and to immerse myself in city life all over again.
I missed the smog.
so good to be back in my own room. It's not home yet, but it's still my living space.
And better yet that I can finally do some laundry and wear fresh clothes.
Best of all? The ability to finally have conversations with girls my age, not 40 year old MEN. (not that they were lacking in coversation or utterly boring or anything like that. They were really nice people whom I enjoyed talking to. But talking about Johnny Depp, Matchbox 20, shopping and things like that somehow don't really interest them...)
Day off tomorrow. Going to Sydney for a haircut, some shopping and to immerse myself in city life all over again.
I missed the smog.
Friday, 8 April 2005
The weather is finally cooling down a little. The sky is currently overcast and rain has been forecast. Currently on our way from Coolgardie to Norseman. The cyclists are covering almost 170km today.
Had been feeling really sorry for them the last few days. Starting their journey at 5am everyday, cycling 12 hour days in that unbearable heat, then arriving in town only in time to have a quick shower and dinner before they have to go for their meetings. Not being able to sleep till almost 11pm and having to repeat everything all over again.
Those guys are incredible. To be able to push themselves so much to the limit and still maintain an amazing spirit of good cheer, joking and still having fun.
The towns have gotten fewer. Was driving at about 30km/h for close to 8 hours before we actually managed to stop in a service station for a quick toilet break. Well, for me at least. Throughout the ride, the others had simply pulled over and went into the bush.
I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even think to look which toilet I was going into. I saw an entryway and simply rushed in. There were some pretty embarrassed conversations going around when two of the cyclists nearly tore the door to my cubicle down thinking the door was stuck. I had dashed into the gents without thinking. And yes, I saw the urinals, but simply thought it was a unisex toilet.
Honestly, if you had to hold 2 litres of water in your bladder for 8 hours, you wouldn’t be looking hard as to whether you were entering the correct toilet.
Still having problems with internet access. We either had phone lines in our rooms that did not work, or no phones at all.
First night, we had to beg the use of the motel owner’s computer.
Second night, I struck gold while chatting with a girl staying and working in the motel – she had keys to the town’s telecentre which was closed. Amazingly, she very willingly handed me the key and gave me directions there.
Yesterday, we were all in such a rush that by the time we returned to our motel, everybody simply crashed on their beds.
We had actually done good time yesterday, arriving in Coolgardie at about 3.30pm. But the TV news crew were late and so the interviews did not finish till about an hour later.
Then the motel we stayed in last night stuffed up big time, and our rooms were not organised at all. We ended up having to unload the luggage into an unused kitchen, load up the bikes and drive 30mins into Kalgoorlie to make a photoshoot.
By the time we got into town and the photoshoot was done, it was past 6pm and the guys had not had dinner or showered. And they had to return to the motel only to make the trip back to Kalgoorlie for the town meeting at 7.30pm.
I ended up sitting in the car with 4 of the cyclists, driving at a speed that I shall not disclose, with pizzas and soft drinks being passed all around me. We made it to the meeting only about 30 mins late.
The cool weather is certainly helping the guys today. They’re actually going at 50km/h! At this rate, I’d be able to get into town and sort out more media stuff! Provided I get mobile coverage…
Check out the website for daily photos update and the cyclist’s journals!
Had been feeling really sorry for them the last few days. Starting their journey at 5am everyday, cycling 12 hour days in that unbearable heat, then arriving in town only in time to have a quick shower and dinner before they have to go for their meetings. Not being able to sleep till almost 11pm and having to repeat everything all over again.
Those guys are incredible. To be able to push themselves so much to the limit and still maintain an amazing spirit of good cheer, joking and still having fun.
The towns have gotten fewer. Was driving at about 30km/h for close to 8 hours before we actually managed to stop in a service station for a quick toilet break. Well, for me at least. Throughout the ride, the others had simply pulled over and went into the bush.
I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even think to look which toilet I was going into. I saw an entryway and simply rushed in. There were some pretty embarrassed conversations going around when two of the cyclists nearly tore the door to my cubicle down thinking the door was stuck. I had dashed into the gents without thinking. And yes, I saw the urinals, but simply thought it was a unisex toilet.
Honestly, if you had to hold 2 litres of water in your bladder for 8 hours, you wouldn’t be looking hard as to whether you were entering the correct toilet.
Still having problems with internet access. We either had phone lines in our rooms that did not work, or no phones at all.
First night, we had to beg the use of the motel owner’s computer.
Second night, I struck gold while chatting with a girl staying and working in the motel – she had keys to the town’s telecentre which was closed. Amazingly, she very willingly handed me the key and gave me directions there.
Yesterday, we were all in such a rush that by the time we returned to our motel, everybody simply crashed on their beds.
We had actually done good time yesterday, arriving in Coolgardie at about 3.30pm. But the TV news crew were late and so the interviews did not finish till about an hour later.
Then the motel we stayed in last night stuffed up big time, and our rooms were not organised at all. We ended up having to unload the luggage into an unused kitchen, load up the bikes and drive 30mins into Kalgoorlie to make a photoshoot.
By the time we got into town and the photoshoot was done, it was past 6pm and the guys had not had dinner or showered. And they had to return to the motel only to make the trip back to Kalgoorlie for the town meeting at 7.30pm.
I ended up sitting in the car with 4 of the cyclists, driving at a speed that I shall not disclose, with pizzas and soft drinks being passed all around me. We made it to the meeting only about 30 mins late.
The cool weather is certainly helping the guys today. They’re actually going at 50km/h! At this rate, I’d be able to get into town and sort out more media stuff! Provided I get mobile coverage…
Check out the website for daily photos update and the cyclist’s journals!
Wednesday, 6 April 2005
My office has been transported from Fox Valley Road to a green Ford Territory travelling at 30km/h along the Great Eastern Highway from Perth to Sydney.
Am in a ghost town called Burracoppin as I’m writing this. There are traces of pubs, general stores and primary schools, but everything looks deserted and shut down for a while. Other than the cyclists I’m with and their support crew and the occasional road trains (huge trucks that transport all sorts of stuff from one end of the country to another) passing through, there isn’t a soul in sight.
It has been a really interesting 2 days on the road so far. Taking photos whenever possible, typing up press releases on the laptop in the car, downloading and editing photos…and then wishing that there is internet access in the next town I visit in order to send everything back to the office.
We are in such an isolated part of Australia that even mobile phone coverage is rare. My mobile has gone out of range more often than there has been reception. And during the short 30mins bracket where there is coverage, furious phonecalls are made to journalists, radio DJs, news producers as well as touching base with work.
Bill Bryson was really accurate when he called this the sunburnt country. The landscape so far has been of red earth, brown grass and everything is as dry as dry can be. This is an amazing country and I wouldn’t give up this opportunity I’ve had to see all these in a hurry.
Yesterday, we passed through Meckering, the site of a 6.9 earthquake inn 1969 that practically wiped out all the buildings in the town. And as I write this, we just passed the start of the longest rabbit proof fence in Australia which the movie is based on
Woke up at 4 this morning to set off from Cunderdin to Southern Cross. The nightsky is gorgeous over at this part of the country. The sky was awashed with stars and everything was so clear and felt so crisp.
Managed to catch one of the few gorgeous sunrise I’ve seen in my life, having always avoided waking up at strange unearthly hours. The road simply stretched on for as far as the eye can see, with flat sparse grassland to on both sides. You can imagine how magnificent the sky would look.
Jumped out to take a photo of the cyclists riding into the sunrise and nearly got blown away by a road train while standing by the side of the road.
While taking a break somewhere in the middle of nowhere, we saw a whole train of 79 big, fat, hairy caterpillars crossing the road. Still makes squirm thinking about it.
I still cannot get over just how dry, hot and harsh the landscape is. And yet, there is a strange resilience present, evident by the trees and bushes as well as beautiful multi-coloured birds flitting around. Not to mention the fact that people actually live around here, even if towns are small and few and far between.
Time to get back to work in my travelling office.
Am in a ghost town called Burracoppin as I’m writing this. There are traces of pubs, general stores and primary schools, but everything looks deserted and shut down for a while. Other than the cyclists I’m with and their support crew and the occasional road trains (huge trucks that transport all sorts of stuff from one end of the country to another) passing through, there isn’t a soul in sight.
It has been a really interesting 2 days on the road so far. Taking photos whenever possible, typing up press releases on the laptop in the car, downloading and editing photos…and then wishing that there is internet access in the next town I visit in order to send everything back to the office.
We are in such an isolated part of Australia that even mobile phone coverage is rare. My mobile has gone out of range more often than there has been reception. And during the short 30mins bracket where there is coverage, furious phonecalls are made to journalists, radio DJs, news producers as well as touching base with work.
Bill Bryson was really accurate when he called this the sunburnt country. The landscape so far has been of red earth, brown grass and everything is as dry as dry can be. This is an amazing country and I wouldn’t give up this opportunity I’ve had to see all these in a hurry.
Yesterday, we passed through Meckering, the site of a 6.9 earthquake inn 1969 that practically wiped out all the buildings in the town. And as I write this, we just passed the start of the longest rabbit proof fence in Australia which the movie is based on
Woke up at 4 this morning to set off from Cunderdin to Southern Cross. The nightsky is gorgeous over at this part of the country. The sky was awashed with stars and everything was so clear and felt so crisp.
Managed to catch one of the few gorgeous sunrise I’ve seen in my life, having always avoided waking up at strange unearthly hours. The road simply stretched on for as far as the eye can see, with flat sparse grassland to on both sides. You can imagine how magnificent the sky would look.
Jumped out to take a photo of the cyclists riding into the sunrise and nearly got blown away by a road train while standing by the side of the road.
While taking a break somewhere in the middle of nowhere, we saw a whole train of 79 big, fat, hairy caterpillars crossing the road. Still makes squirm thinking about it.
I still cannot get over just how dry, hot and harsh the landscape is. And yet, there is a strange resilience present, evident by the trees and bushes as well as beautiful multi-coloured birds flitting around. Not to mention the fact that people actually live around here, even if towns are small and few and far between.
Time to get back to work in my travelling office.
Sunday, 3 April 2005
in 30mins, I'm leaving for the airport to fly to Perth to start media work on the Circle of Courage Cycle Tour.
9 days on the road, living out of a suitcase and visiting small rural countrytowns.
I can already guess it will be an interesting trip. It's going to be a fantastic and unique opportunity to visit towns people normally don't and to get the off the beaten track experience.
On April 10, as the cyclists cycle across the Nullarbor Plains, I'll be making my way back to Sydney for about 4 days.
Then I fly back to join them in Ceduna, and return to Sydney again 2 weeks later.
Will try to update when I'm on the road.
9 days on the road, living out of a suitcase and visiting small rural countrytowns.
I can already guess it will be an interesting trip. It's going to be a fantastic and unique opportunity to visit towns people normally don't and to get the off the beaten track experience.
On April 10, as the cyclists cycle across the Nullarbor Plains, I'll be making my way back to Sydney for about 4 days.
Then I fly back to join them in Ceduna, and return to Sydney again 2 weeks later.
Will try to update when I'm on the road.
Saturday, 2 April 2005
the debate of the Marys...
For the last month or so, I have heard from various worships and sermons that imply Mary Magdalene and Mary of the Martha and Mary fame are the same Mary.
I am confused.
I have looked through the Bible and have not come up with something solid that confirms that theory. In fact, more often than not, what I've found seem to refute the relation.
And yet, 4 preachers I've heard have stated that. And a book written by a respected Seventh-day Adventist pastor has been based on the sole fact that the two Marys are the same, and that she is also the prostitute whom Jesus had the whole "he who has no sin may cast the first stone" incident. (do not even get me started on that one)
I honestly cannot find anything in the Bible.
I am still in the process of research, but would highly appreciate it if somebody is able to clue me in further on this issue. Even if it is just a point to a book or a website.
This is not to enhance my faith, or strenghten my belief in God, or to get into senseless theological debates that has nothing to do with a relationship with God.
Loving God and sharing God is not about who interprets the Bible best. Or who wins an argument about God.
This is simply a search to understand His teachings better.
For the last month or so, I have heard from various worships and sermons that imply Mary Magdalene and Mary of the Martha and Mary fame are the same Mary.
I am confused.
I have looked through the Bible and have not come up with something solid that confirms that theory. In fact, more often than not, what I've found seem to refute the relation.
And yet, 4 preachers I've heard have stated that. And a book written by a respected Seventh-day Adventist pastor has been based on the sole fact that the two Marys are the same, and that she is also the prostitute whom Jesus had the whole "he who has no sin may cast the first stone" incident. (do not even get me started on that one)
I honestly cannot find anything in the Bible.
I am still in the process of research, but would highly appreciate it if somebody is able to clue me in further on this issue. Even if it is just a point to a book or a website.
This is not to enhance my faith, or strenghten my belief in God, or to get into senseless theological debates that has nothing to do with a relationship with God.
Loving God and sharing God is not about who interprets the Bible best. Or who wins an argument about God.
This is simply a search to understand His teachings better.
Friday, 1 April 2005
Wednesday, 30 March 2005
One of the major complaints my friends and I had when I first became a Christian five years ago, was the fact that church service was no longer relevant.
To be more precise, a Seventh-day Adventist church service was too rigid, too traditional, too - dare I say it - boring. The hymns sung were too old-fashioned, the sermons preached were irrelevant and the fixed service that started with an invocation and ended with a benediction was not effective in attracting a younger audience whatsoever.
In the last five years, there has been a steady change in the way the church connected with its youth. The music became more upbeat, the sermons became more relevant and the creativity that emerged from this revolution blossomed and drew young people back. There was a real energy and it seemed that life was breathed back into something that was left for dead.
The irony of it all however, is that we have swung from one extreme to another and are once again stuck in a rut.
Church service for a younger audience nowadays has taken on a "lollipop" quality - sweet, feel good and with absolutely no substance. We have swapped an invocation, three hymns and a benediction, for a service with seven Hillsongs and a dance.
Is there really a difference?
Don't get me wrong. I love the energy and liveliness present in a praise and worship delivered with drums and electric guitars. I appreciate the fact that preachers tackle topics faced by a postmodern generation. And I certainly like the various creative expressions that should be part and parcel of worshipping God.
Unfortunately, in an attempt to make a stand against a rigid and irrelevant church, we have successfully created another. And sadly enough, we may have made the situation worse.
Praise and worship songs are almost always from the Hillsongs variety. Sermons preached more often than not touch on how much God loves his children, and that we can never stray far enough for Him to give up.
The messages are all true, but the messages are also all extremely emotional.
Oftentimes, I leave a church service feeling really good about myself and my relationship with God. I feel extremely glad that God still loves me despite the sinner that I am. I feel contrite, I feel on top of the world, I feel sorry, I feel forgiven, I feel close to God, I feel...I think you get the idea.
Whatever happened to actually getting to know God and His teachings even more?
Whatever happened to reading from the Bible and coming away with new insight and understanding?
Whatever happened to being fed and gaining some real substance instead of walking away with sugary sweet fluff?
I really appreciate the effort taken by the church to make it more relevant to young people. I completely admire the courage of these people to stand against traditional expectations and provide something more. Most of all, I respect their sacrifical heart.
But I'm also a searcher seeking. Seeking for a church that will feed and nourish me, and remain relevant at the same time.
To be more precise, a Seventh-day Adventist church service was too rigid, too traditional, too - dare I say it - boring. The hymns sung were too old-fashioned, the sermons preached were irrelevant and the fixed service that started with an invocation and ended with a benediction was not effective in attracting a younger audience whatsoever.
In the last five years, there has been a steady change in the way the church connected with its youth. The music became more upbeat, the sermons became more relevant and the creativity that emerged from this revolution blossomed and drew young people back. There was a real energy and it seemed that life was breathed back into something that was left for dead.
The irony of it all however, is that we have swung from one extreme to another and are once again stuck in a rut.
Church service for a younger audience nowadays has taken on a "lollipop" quality - sweet, feel good and with absolutely no substance. We have swapped an invocation, three hymns and a benediction, for a service with seven Hillsongs and a dance.
Is there really a difference?
Don't get me wrong. I love the energy and liveliness present in a praise and worship delivered with drums and electric guitars. I appreciate the fact that preachers tackle topics faced by a postmodern generation. And I certainly like the various creative expressions that should be part and parcel of worshipping God.
Unfortunately, in an attempt to make a stand against a rigid and irrelevant church, we have successfully created another. And sadly enough, we may have made the situation worse.
Praise and worship songs are almost always from the Hillsongs variety. Sermons preached more often than not touch on how much God loves his children, and that we can never stray far enough for Him to give up.
The messages are all true, but the messages are also all extremely emotional.
Oftentimes, I leave a church service feeling really good about myself and my relationship with God. I feel extremely glad that God still loves me despite the sinner that I am. I feel contrite, I feel on top of the world, I feel sorry, I feel forgiven, I feel close to God, I feel...I think you get the idea.
Whatever happened to actually getting to know God and His teachings even more?
Whatever happened to reading from the Bible and coming away with new insight and understanding?
Whatever happened to being fed and gaining some real substance instead of walking away with sugary sweet fluff?
I really appreciate the effort taken by the church to make it more relevant to young people. I completely admire the courage of these people to stand against traditional expectations and provide something more. Most of all, I respect their sacrifical heart.
But I'm also a searcher seeking. Seeking for a church that will feed and nourish me, and remain relevant at the same time.
Tuesday, 29 March 2005
Well, photos from my weekend at the Gold Coast are up.
Part of them at least.
More next month since I've maxed out the quota for this month.
Part of them at least.
More next month since I've maxed out the quota for this month.
Monday, 28 March 2005
i'm back!
back from a long weekend filled with glorious warm sunshine.
where i stayed with the sweetest couple, in a house caught between sugercane plantations and a gorgeous lake.
really, I cannot say enough about Letrica's grandparents. Grandma cooks this fabulous desserts that just threatens to fatten me up and Grandpa is really cheeky and fun to be around.
then there's her uncle who took me on two boat rides up and down the Tweed river just behind the house. We would have went water-skiing if it weren't for the fact that I was battling a cold and staying in the water for a prolonged period of time may not be the best thing.
of course, there was all the driving around and simply soaking in the beautiful scenes of mountains, rivers, rainforests and sugercane plantations...
and then going to the beach, walking along the sand, going to the headlands and just looking out into the sea for as far as the eye can see.
I think I got brown. It certainly was really hot.
But now I'm back in Sydney, where autumn has most certainly arrived. Where I have to start work tomorrow....ah..the long Easter weekend was way too short.
Photos will be up soon!
back from a long weekend filled with glorious warm sunshine.
where i stayed with the sweetest couple, in a house caught between sugercane plantations and a gorgeous lake.
really, I cannot say enough about Letrica's grandparents. Grandma cooks this fabulous desserts that just threatens to fatten me up and Grandpa is really cheeky and fun to be around.
then there's her uncle who took me on two boat rides up and down the Tweed river just behind the house. We would have went water-skiing if it weren't for the fact that I was battling a cold and staying in the water for a prolonged period of time may not be the best thing.
of course, there was all the driving around and simply soaking in the beautiful scenes of mountains, rivers, rainforests and sugercane plantations...
and then going to the beach, walking along the sand, going to the headlands and just looking out into the sea for as far as the eye can see.
I think I got brown. It certainly was really hot.
But now I'm back in Sydney, where autumn has most certainly arrived. Where I have to start work tomorrow....ah..the long Easter weekend was way too short.
Photos will be up soon!
Thursday, 24 March 2005
reorganised the photo album so that it's in some semblance of order now.
included some photos from the Staff Away Day.
watch out for more photos next week when I return from my long Easter weekend trip to the Gold Coast!
included some photos from the Staff Away Day.
watch out for more photos next week when I return from my long Easter weekend trip to the Gold Coast!
Monday, 21 March 2005
drove in peak hour traffic for the first time this morning.
went for a Staff Away Day to Bobbin Head National Park with beautiful views of the Hawkesbury River.
played a three-legged race, an egg and spoon race and a tug-of-war.
went on row boat for an hour and had to be towed back by colleagues who were in a motor boat.
absolutely exhausted.
went for a Staff Away Day to Bobbin Head National Park with beautiful views of the Hawkesbury River.
played a three-legged race, an egg and spoon race and a tug-of-war.
went on row boat for an hour and had to be towed back by colleagues who were in a motor boat.
absolutely exhausted.
Sunday, 20 March 2005
5 consecutive days of early mornings and late nights makes a person go somewhat insane.
Had been waking up at an average of 5.30am for the last few mornings and I think it took its toll on me yesterday morning.
At about 7.15am, I opened my eyes and realised it was already light. At which I gasped, woke up almost immediately and went "Oh crap, I'm late." Late for my driving lesson which usually happens at 7am.
I sat up, silently cursed my alarm for not going off and grabbed my mobile phone.
"Paul (my driving instructor) is going to be so mad at me," I muttered to myself. Yes, I talk to myself, live with it.
Thoughts of him desperately trying to ring me on my mobile which I switched off the night before flashed through my head. I kept imagining how upset he would be and was rehearsing in my head a suitable apology for sleeping in.
My phone finally started up and I started scrolling through my phonebook for his mobile number when it suddenly struck me.
It was the Sabbath. A Saturday. I had no driving lessons that day. I had set my alarm for 8am coz that was when I wanted to wake up to get to church on time.
I wasn't late. I was early.
I am only thankful that I realised what was going on before I actually called Paul.
Now that would have been embarrassing.
Had been waking up at an average of 5.30am for the last few mornings and I think it took its toll on me yesterday morning.
At about 7.15am, I opened my eyes and realised it was already light. At which I gasped, woke up almost immediately and went "Oh crap, I'm late." Late for my driving lesson which usually happens at 7am.
I sat up, silently cursed my alarm for not going off and grabbed my mobile phone.
"Paul (my driving instructor) is going to be so mad at me," I muttered to myself. Yes, I talk to myself, live with it.
Thoughts of him desperately trying to ring me on my mobile which I switched off the night before flashed through my head. I kept imagining how upset he would be and was rehearsing in my head a suitable apology for sleeping in.
My phone finally started up and I started scrolling through my phonebook for his mobile number when it suddenly struck me.
It was the Sabbath. A Saturday. I had no driving lessons that day. I had set my alarm for 8am coz that was when I wanted to wake up to get to church on time.
I wasn't late. I was early.
I am only thankful that I realised what was going on before I actually called Paul.
Now that would have been embarrassing.
Friday, 18 March 2005
imagine my surprise when I received an email with pics telling me that my friends whom I met in England had a baby!
I didn't even know she was pregnant!
I didn't even know she was pregnant!
Thursday, 17 March 2005
the guy whose position and office i replaced is currently in Brazil and recently had a rather scary experience that left everybody in the office wondering if he would live.
amazing what you can put in a chewing gum...
excerpt:
After this we were walking and he bought a packet of chewing gum and offered me one. Having seen him buy the gum I didn't think much of it at the time. But now I am pretty sure that he swapped it for a pre-prepared gum in his pocket before giving it to me.
his conclusion about the whole thing?
I know now that chewing gum with a liquid centre can contain doping agents. I also am glad that they don't have Krispy Kreme donuts here because without a doubt it would be harder to resist a Krispy Kreme laced with 'Good Night Cinderella'.
amazing what you can put in a chewing gum...
excerpt:
After this we were walking and he bought a packet of chewing gum and offered me one. Having seen him buy the gum I didn't think much of it at the time. But now I am pretty sure that he swapped it for a pre-prepared gum in his pocket before giving it to me.
his conclusion about the whole thing?
I know now that chewing gum with a liquid centre can contain doping agents. I also am glad that they don't have Krispy Kreme donuts here because without a doubt it would be harder to resist a Krispy Kreme laced with 'Good Night Cinderella'.
goodbye summer, hello autumn.
seems like the Aussie summer is well and truly over. Not that we really had one in the first place.
But it's been wet and grey all day today. Feels a little like England actually. Gone are my sleeveless tops and short skirts with bare legs.
My wardrobe is gradually changing to one consisting of scarves, thicker long-sleeved tops and stockings.
Soon, the turtlenecks, thick scarves, boots and winter coats are going to come in.
And I haven't bought a heater yet...hmmm....could be interesting...
seems like the Aussie summer is well and truly over. Not that we really had one in the first place.
But it's been wet and grey all day today. Feels a little like England actually. Gone are my sleeveless tops and short skirts with bare legs.
My wardrobe is gradually changing to one consisting of scarves, thicker long-sleeved tops and stockings.
Soon, the turtlenecks, thick scarves, boots and winter coats are going to come in.
And I haven't bought a heater yet...hmmm....could be interesting...
Tuesday, 15 March 2005
i don't know why I didn't see it when I was there previously (maybe I was blinded by student's poverty), but Melbourne has turned out to be a rather good place to get shopping done.
Our meeting finished just before lunch this morning which meant that I had about 4 hours spare before my flight back. Obviously, shopping was the only alternative available.
I know everybody says so, but it is only after my fifth visit to Melbourne that I realise what a great shopping haven Melbourne is! Streets and streets of shops with great brands. Not to mention the unavoidable sales which would have been more but unfortunately, this isn't peak season.
Mental note to self: return to Melbourne during the Christmas sales.
No wonder people go to Melbourne for the weekend simply to shop...
Our meeting finished just before lunch this morning which meant that I had about 4 hours spare before my flight back. Obviously, shopping was the only alternative available.
I know everybody says so, but it is only after my fifth visit to Melbourne that I realise what a great shopping haven Melbourne is! Streets and streets of shops with great brands. Not to mention the unavoidable sales which would have been more but unfortunately, this isn't peak season.
Mental note to self: return to Melbourne during the Christmas sales.
No wonder people go to Melbourne for the weekend simply to shop...
Monday, 14 March 2005
i was only joking when i came up with the URL for the upcoming cycle tour.
never did I realise that they would talk me seriously.
Seems like the official website for the tour will now be [deleted due to Google issues].
don't bother surfing there now. It's not launched yet (and don't you dare steal the URL!).
Visions of clowns keep popping into my head whenever i think of the URL, it cracks me up. Especially when along with the images, I hear the circus theme song, which I will not bother describing.
On another note, I have to leave for the airport at 5.30am tomorrow to fly to Melbourne. Gah! Early mornings and me don't really go well together. Am especially not looking forward to returning to Sydney at almost 11pm tomorrow evening and having to wake up at 6.30am on Wednesday for driving lessons....
Three crazy early mornings in a row (I had to leave Avondale at 7am this morning to get to work on time), I think I should get an early night tonight...
never did I realise that they would talk me seriously.
Seems like the official website for the tour will now be [deleted due to Google issues].
don't bother surfing there now. It's not launched yet (and don't you dare steal the URL!).
Visions of clowns keep popping into my head whenever i think of the URL, it cracks me up. Especially when along with the images, I hear the circus theme song, which I will not bother describing.
On another note, I have to leave for the airport at 5.30am tomorrow to fly to Melbourne. Gah! Early mornings and me don't really go well together. Am especially not looking forward to returning to Sydney at almost 11pm tomorrow evening and having to wake up at 6.30am on Wednesday for driving lessons....
Three crazy early mornings in a row (I had to leave Avondale at 7am this morning to get to work on time), I think I should get an early night tonight...
Sunday, 13 March 2005
spent my weekend at Avondale and it was really nice to be back. Especially nice to be back during the weekend and know that i didn't have an assignment due next week or something.
It's a funny feeling, to be back where you had all these memories, and then realise that those are now things of the past. And to know that whatever experience and memory you had will be experienced by the people who are now surrounding you.
It'll be different, and yet the same.
It's weird to find that after spending 2 years away, there are people you knew who are still around. And who, well, are still the same and doing the same thing.
It's even weirder to be introduced to people and have them go, "Oh! So you're Melody. The Melody!"
I can only hope that whatever they've heard about me had been good things...
It's a funny feeling, to be back where you had all these memories, and then realise that those are now things of the past. And to know that whatever experience and memory you had will be experienced by the people who are now surrounding you.
It'll be different, and yet the same.
It's weird to find that after spending 2 years away, there are people you knew who are still around. And who, well, are still the same and doing the same thing.
It's even weirder to be introduced to people and have them go, "Oh! So you're Melody. The Melody!"
I can only hope that whatever they've heard about me had been good things...
Friday, 11 March 2005
goodbye all you stupid trojans and annoying pop-up boxes!
goodbye internet explorer!
hello mozilla!
yup! I finally got the mozilla web browser installed on my office computer.
I'm a happy camper!
goodbye internet explorer!
hello mozilla!
yup! I finally got the mozilla web browser installed on my office computer.
I'm a happy camper!
Thursday, 10 March 2005
Six riders will cycle across Australia in an endeavour to raise awareness about “at risk” behaviour among young people in small rural communities on April 5.
“Studies have shown that rural adolescents have some of the highest at risk statistics,” says Jonathan Duffy, Director of Adventist Health, a department of the Seventh-day Adventist Church in the South Pacific. “They are up to four times more likely to commit suicide and females living in a rural community are up to 11 times more likely to experience physical abuse. They are also more likely to use illicit substances.”
The Circle of Courage Bike Ride is organised by Adventist Health. The riders and their support team will start their journey from the Murray Street Mall in Perth on April 5 at 8 a.m. and finish off at the Sydney Opera House on May 5.
“I am very concerned about the increase of risk behaviour in young people,” says Mr. Duffy. “I want to challenge the adults in rural communities to take the leading role in developing positive community relationships. This will build resilience and self-esteem amongst the young people.”
Mr. Duffy and his team will be covering an average of 165km a day during the ride. They will be speaking at local community venues organised through community groups such as the Lions Club every evening. The riders will introduce to parents and other interested adults the Circle of Courage principles for building resilience in young people.
The Circle of Courage is a philosophy that invites people to see themselves as belonging to a community and take the step forward as independent people, able to make wise choices about how to live life.
Very soon, I'm going to become the expert in unknown towns of the southern end of Australia.
Being in charge of the media relations of this project means I have to track down all the newspapers and radio stations operating in all the towns they visit.
Which means having to actually know where places like Bookabie and Wagga Wagga are.
Have been studying the map of Australia for two days now and cross-referencing it with the list of newspapers and radio stations we have, and trying to find out which newspapers cover which areas.
On top of trying to write media releases, coordinate with town representatives and come up with press kits.
By the end of it all, I'm probably going to know more of Australia than some Aussies do.
And yes, I'm going on the cycle tour with the team, although it hasn't been decided if I'm going to be staying for the whole thing.
And no, I'm not cycling. If I did, there will be no media relations whatsoever happening during the entire trip. The only relations there's going to be will be my relations with the bed in a motel.
“Studies have shown that rural adolescents have some of the highest at risk statistics,” says Jonathan Duffy, Director of Adventist Health, a department of the Seventh-day Adventist Church in the South Pacific. “They are up to four times more likely to commit suicide and females living in a rural community are up to 11 times more likely to experience physical abuse. They are also more likely to use illicit substances.”
The Circle of Courage Bike Ride is organised by Adventist Health. The riders and their support team will start their journey from the Murray Street Mall in Perth on April 5 at 8 a.m. and finish off at the Sydney Opera House on May 5.
“I am very concerned about the increase of risk behaviour in young people,” says Mr. Duffy. “I want to challenge the adults in rural communities to take the leading role in developing positive community relationships. This will build resilience and self-esteem amongst the young people.”
Mr. Duffy and his team will be covering an average of 165km a day during the ride. They will be speaking at local community venues organised through community groups such as the Lions Club every evening. The riders will introduce to parents and other interested adults the Circle of Courage principles for building resilience in young people.
The Circle of Courage is a philosophy that invites people to see themselves as belonging to a community and take the step forward as independent people, able to make wise choices about how to live life.
Very soon, I'm going to become the expert in unknown towns of the southern end of Australia.
Being in charge of the media relations of this project means I have to track down all the newspapers and radio stations operating in all the towns they visit.
Which means having to actually know where places like Bookabie and Wagga Wagga are.
Have been studying the map of Australia for two days now and cross-referencing it with the list of newspapers and radio stations we have, and trying to find out which newspapers cover which areas.
On top of trying to write media releases, coordinate with town representatives and come up with press kits.
By the end of it all, I'm probably going to know more of Australia than some Aussies do.
And yes, I'm going on the cycle tour with the team, although it hasn't been decided if I'm going to be staying for the whole thing.
And no, I'm not cycling. If I did, there will be no media relations whatsoever happening during the entire trip. The only relations there's going to be will be my relations with the bed in a motel.
Wednesday, 9 March 2005
15 Words That Should Exist
1. ACCORDIONATED (ah kor' de on ay tid) adj. Being able to drive and refold a road map at the same time.
2. AQUADEXTROUS (ak wa deks' trus) adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub tap on and off with your toes.
3. CARPERPETUATION (kar' pur pet u a shun) n. The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.
4. DIMP (dimp) n. A person who insults you in a cheap department store by asking, "Do you work here?"
5. ECNALUBMA (ek na lub' ma) n. A rescue vehicle which can only be seen in the rearview mirror.
6. EIFFELITES (eye' ful eyetz) n. Gangly people sitting in front of you at the cinema who, no matter what direction you lean in, follow suit.
7. ELBONICS (el bon' iks) n. The actions of two people manoeuvering for one armrest in a cinema.
8. ELECELLERATION (el a cel er ay' shun) n. The mistaken notion that the more you press the lift button, the faster it will arrive.
9. FRUST (frust) n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept onto the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until he finally decides to give up and sweep it under the rug.
10. LACTOMANGULATION (lak' to man gyu lay' shun) n. Manhandling the "open here" spout on a milk container so badly that one has to resort to the 'illegal' side.
11. NEONPHANCY (ne on' fan see) n. A fluorescent light bulb struggling to come to life.
12. PETROPHOBIC (pet ro fob' ik) adj. One who is embarrassed to undress in front of a household pet.
13. PHONESIA (fo nee' zhuh) n. The affliction of dialling a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.
14. PUPKUS (pup' kus) n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it.
15. TELECRASTINATION (tel e kras tin ay' shun) n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before you pick it up, even when you're only six inches away.
1. ACCORDIONATED (ah kor' de on ay tid) adj. Being able to drive and refold a road map at the same time.
2. AQUADEXTROUS (ak wa deks' trus) adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub tap on and off with your toes.
3. CARPERPETUATION (kar' pur pet u a shun) n. The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.
4. DIMP (dimp) n. A person who insults you in a cheap department store by asking, "Do you work here?"
5. ECNALUBMA (ek na lub' ma) n. A rescue vehicle which can only be seen in the rearview mirror.
6. EIFFELITES (eye' ful eyetz) n. Gangly people sitting in front of you at the cinema who, no matter what direction you lean in, follow suit.
7. ELBONICS (el bon' iks) n. The actions of two people manoeuvering for one armrest in a cinema.
8. ELECELLERATION (el a cel er ay' shun) n. The mistaken notion that the more you press the lift button, the faster it will arrive.
9. FRUST (frust) n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept onto the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until he finally decides to give up and sweep it under the rug.
10. LACTOMANGULATION (lak' to man gyu lay' shun) n. Manhandling the "open here" spout on a milk container so badly that one has to resort to the 'illegal' side.
11. NEONPHANCY (ne on' fan see) n. A fluorescent light bulb struggling to come to life.
12. PETROPHOBIC (pet ro fob' ik) adj. One who is embarrassed to undress in front of a household pet.
13. PHONESIA (fo nee' zhuh) n. The affliction of dialling a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.
14. PUPKUS (pup' kus) n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it.
15. TELECRASTINATION (tel e kras tin ay' shun) n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before you pick it up, even when you're only six inches away.
Friday, 4 March 2005
Thursday, 3 March 2005
Interesting website alert!
Excerpt:
Church Marketing Sucks isn't simply about putting butts in pews or selling glossy postcards. It's about helping the church be the Church, and seeing lives changed as a result. If helping the church communicate better allows one person to finally glimpse the Gospel, then our work has been worthwhile. It may be fuzzy math, but God can worry about that.
Excerpt:
Church Marketing Sucks isn't simply about putting butts in pews or selling glossy postcards. It's about helping the church be the Church, and seeing lives changed as a result. If helping the church communicate better allows one person to finally glimpse the Gospel, then our work has been worthwhile. It may be fuzzy math, but God can worry about that.
I went horseriding yesterday evening!
It was such a fantastic experience to finally be able to ride a horse, especially with being so in love with the medieval period and fantasy stories and all. I've always read about horseriding and the amazing things the riders could do, and now I finally know how they feel!
Well, the part where they walk the horse that is.
And Ange had to give me a knee-up to get on the horse. I was lying face-down on the horse for a while after that, feeling absolutely disorientated with being so high up, as well as being clueless as to how to straighten myself.
When I finally managed to sit upright, and Ange started leading the horse, I seriously thought I was going to fall off. It was a completely strange rhythm and everytime the horse moved a leg, I slid further and further sideways.
Then Ange told me I had to straighten my legs more and should kind of only half-sit. That cleared everything up and once I got used to the rhythm, it was the most amazing thing ever.
Until the horse went up a hill. Then down a hill.
And then Ange thought it would be fun for me to feel how it would be like to trot. Seriously, bouncing up and down a horse was well, rather strange.
I had a brilliant experience though and absolutely loved it.
In fact, despite my initial hesitations, I have grown to love Warburton. Well, as much as one can love something after 4 days.
Nathan and Ange have been absolutely wonderful and were great company and hosts.
Taking me to watch Hotel Rwanda on Tuesday evening was amazing. Especially with being able to finally meet up with Kel, whom I've kept in touch with through emails for a year or so but never met face to face till then.
Then of course, there's the Three Sugars cafe (thanks Kel for the recommendation!) which is an absolutely delightful place to have a meal, read a magazine, listen to nice music and have a great lunch break.
And the 5 minutes walk to and from work, past beautiful views of the Yarra River and the mountain ranges...
I'll miss Warburton and my time spent here, but I certainly would not miss the millipedes.
It was such a fantastic experience to finally be able to ride a horse, especially with being so in love with the medieval period and fantasy stories and all. I've always read about horseriding and the amazing things the riders could do, and now I finally know how they feel!
Well, the part where they walk the horse that is.
And Ange had to give me a knee-up to get on the horse. I was lying face-down on the horse for a while after that, feeling absolutely disorientated with being so high up, as well as being clueless as to how to straighten myself.
When I finally managed to sit upright, and Ange started leading the horse, I seriously thought I was going to fall off. It was a completely strange rhythm and everytime the horse moved a leg, I slid further and further sideways.
Then Ange told me I had to straighten my legs more and should kind of only half-sit. That cleared everything up and once I got used to the rhythm, it was the most amazing thing ever.
Until the horse went up a hill. Then down a hill.
And then Ange thought it would be fun for me to feel how it would be like to trot. Seriously, bouncing up and down a horse was well, rather strange.
I had a brilliant experience though and absolutely loved it.
In fact, despite my initial hesitations, I have grown to love Warburton. Well, as much as one can love something after 4 days.
Nathan and Ange have been absolutely wonderful and were great company and hosts.
Taking me to watch Hotel Rwanda on Tuesday evening was amazing. Especially with being able to finally meet up with Kel, whom I've kept in touch with through emails for a year or so but never met face to face till then.
Then of course, there's the Three Sugars cafe (thanks Kel for the recommendation!) which is an absolutely delightful place to have a meal, read a magazine, listen to nice music and have a great lunch break.
And the 5 minutes walk to and from work, past beautiful views of the Yarra River and the mountain ranges...
I'll miss Warburton and my time spent here, but I certainly would not miss the millipedes.
Wednesday, 2 March 2005
“After they see this, people are gonna say ‘My God that’s terrible,’ and then go on eating their dinners.”
Chilling words uttered by a news cameraman to Paul Rusesabagina in Hotel Rwanda, on the footage he had shot of the genocide. Footage that Paul hoped would spur the world into doing something against the atrocities that were just beginning.
In three months, one million people would be brutally murdered in an event fuelled by ethnic hatred. True enough, the world turned a blind eye to the genocide that claimed Rwandan lives at nearly three times the rate it claimed Jewish lives during the Holocaust.
Hotel Rwanda is not just a brilliant action movie or one that celebrates Paul’s bravery that resulted in saving 1,268 lives. It is not just a true story that gives Paul the recognition he deserved.
It is a movie that makes you realise just how many innocent people gets killed, because the rest of the world does nothing.
The events surrounding Hotel Rwanda is not fiction. The streets of Kigali did run red with blood. Paul Rusesabagina did shelter people in the Hotel des Mille Collines for 11 weeks in the midst of it all. And at a time when Rwanda needed help the most, there was indeed no international intervention, expeditionary force or international aid.
Rwanda was swept under the carpet, the genocide written off as “tribal warfare” and deemed unworthy of attention. And in the movie, we step into the shoes of these victims, terrified and utterly deserted by the rest of the world. We feel their desperation and despair as they realise people will not do something just because an atrocity like the one they are experiencing makes the news.
As BBC journalist Steve Bradshaw says about us, “It is hard not to be carried away with the appalling cultural totalitarianism that is the precondition of genocide. We’re not trained to say ‘No’ when the state, our teachers, priests, police, neighbours and friends all say ‘Yes!’”
But Hotel Rwanda challenges that. Hotel Rwanda challenges you to stand up against such atrocities. Hotel Rwanda challenges you not to simply dismiss something as “terrible” and then go on eating your dinner.
“Ten years on, politicians from around the world have made the pilgrimage to Rwanda to ask for forgiveness from the survivors, and the same politicians promised ‘never again,'" says director Terry George. “But it's happening yet again in Sudan [and] the Congo…places where life is [viewed to be] worth less than dirt. Places where men and women like Paul and his wife Tatsiana shame us all by their decency and bravery."
Hotel Rwanda is worth a watch for the brilliant script that portrays the Rwandan genocide the world tried to ignore, but watching Hotel Rwanda will leave you wanting to do more, even when the rest of the world doesn’t.
Chilling words uttered by a news cameraman to Paul Rusesabagina in Hotel Rwanda, on the footage he had shot of the genocide. Footage that Paul hoped would spur the world into doing something against the atrocities that were just beginning.
In three months, one million people would be brutally murdered in an event fuelled by ethnic hatred. True enough, the world turned a blind eye to the genocide that claimed Rwandan lives at nearly three times the rate it claimed Jewish lives during the Holocaust.
Hotel Rwanda is not just a brilliant action movie or one that celebrates Paul’s bravery that resulted in saving 1,268 lives. It is not just a true story that gives Paul the recognition he deserved.
It is a movie that makes you realise just how many innocent people gets killed, because the rest of the world does nothing.
The events surrounding Hotel Rwanda is not fiction. The streets of Kigali did run red with blood. Paul Rusesabagina did shelter people in the Hotel des Mille Collines for 11 weeks in the midst of it all. And at a time when Rwanda needed help the most, there was indeed no international intervention, expeditionary force or international aid.
Rwanda was swept under the carpet, the genocide written off as “tribal warfare” and deemed unworthy of attention. And in the movie, we step into the shoes of these victims, terrified and utterly deserted by the rest of the world. We feel their desperation and despair as they realise people will not do something just because an atrocity like the one they are experiencing makes the news.
As BBC journalist Steve Bradshaw says about us, “It is hard not to be carried away with the appalling cultural totalitarianism that is the precondition of genocide. We’re not trained to say ‘No’ when the state, our teachers, priests, police, neighbours and friends all say ‘Yes!’”
But Hotel Rwanda challenges that. Hotel Rwanda challenges you to stand up against such atrocities. Hotel Rwanda challenges you not to simply dismiss something as “terrible” and then go on eating your dinner.
“Ten years on, politicians from around the world have made the pilgrimage to Rwanda to ask for forgiveness from the survivors, and the same politicians promised ‘never again,'" says director Terry George. “But it's happening yet again in Sudan [and] the Congo…places where life is [viewed to be] worth less than dirt. Places where men and women like Paul and his wife Tatsiana shame us all by their decency and bravery."
Hotel Rwanda is worth a watch for the brilliant script that portrays the Rwandan genocide the world tried to ignore, but watching Hotel Rwanda will leave you wanting to do more, even when the rest of the world doesn’t.
Tuesday, 1 March 2005
I think I've got to have had the weirdest experience of the year.
Bored from editing articles and facing the computer for hours, I decided to look out the window for a break.
Instead of the usual mountain view, I see a sheep trotting down the main pathway into the building. It looked perfectly prepared to saunter into the building and buy a book from the bookshop in the foyer or something.
Wonder if a giraffe would visit tomorrow.
Bored from editing articles and facing the computer for hours, I decided to look out the window for a break.
Instead of the usual mountain view, I see a sheep trotting down the main pathway into the building. It looked perfectly prepared to saunter into the building and buy a book from the bookshop in the foyer or something.
Wonder if a giraffe would visit tomorrow.
Adventures in the Warburton Motel
Walking back to my seat after a drink, I noticed a thin black something wriggling towards my bed.
Upon closer inspection, my worst fears were confirmed - it was a millepede.
I seriously fought the urge to scream.
Honestly, I hate any form of creepy crawlies. Tie me to a bungy cord and throw me off a bridge. Give me a parachute and tell me to jump out of an airplane. Get me to touch a snake even. But there is no way you can get me near a worm, a cockroach or a spider.
Yet, neither do I want the horrible thing in my room. Images of it crawling up my body and across my face while I sleep was flashing through my head.
I ran around the tiny motel room looking for help. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find, but I was running.
I picked up the newspaper and considered killing the creature with it. Then it struck me that I would have to then get rid of the carcass. And yes, even touching a dead worm sends shivers up my spine. The newspapers were thrown back onto the couch.
Get it out of the room, get it out of the room, get it out of the room...that was the mantra for the next few seconds as I watched it inched closer and closer to my bed.
Finally, I decided to brave the horror. I tore a couple of tissues away from its box and squatted in front of the worm, all the while wishing I was someplace else.
Next came the most traumatising task of getting the stupid thing to crawl up the tissue. I started cursing the fact that the piece of tissue was firstly too small, secondly too soft.
Seriously, getting the thing to actually crawl up the tissue was a nightmare. I tried to slide the tissue under the worm and succeeded only in turning it upside down. I bit down on my lips as it flipped this way and that.
After several tries, and believe me it was horrible, it finally got on the tissue.
That was when pure panic struck.
"Oh God, help me," I cried as I held on to this tiny piece of tissue with the worm crawling on it. I folded the tissue in half, hoping that it would lessen my fear.
My eyes caught sight of the back door. I rushed towards it, all the while keeping an eye on the worm, ensuring that it was more or less staying in the middle of the tissue.
I opened the door and unfolded the tissue. I started wondering how I was going to transfer the worm onto the ground outside.
Then I simply gave up and threw the tissue, worm and all, on the ground and slammed the door shut.
Somewhere in the backyard of the Warburton Motel, there is a piece of tissue with a worm on it.
Walking back to my seat after a drink, I noticed a thin black something wriggling towards my bed.
Upon closer inspection, my worst fears were confirmed - it was a millepede.
I seriously fought the urge to scream.
Honestly, I hate any form of creepy crawlies. Tie me to a bungy cord and throw me off a bridge. Give me a parachute and tell me to jump out of an airplane. Get me to touch a snake even. But there is no way you can get me near a worm, a cockroach or a spider.
Yet, neither do I want the horrible thing in my room. Images of it crawling up my body and across my face while I sleep was flashing through my head.
I ran around the tiny motel room looking for help. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find, but I was running.
I picked up the newspaper and considered killing the creature with it. Then it struck me that I would have to then get rid of the carcass. And yes, even touching a dead worm sends shivers up my spine. The newspapers were thrown back onto the couch.
Get it out of the room, get it out of the room, get it out of the room...that was the mantra for the next few seconds as I watched it inched closer and closer to my bed.
Finally, I decided to brave the horror. I tore a couple of tissues away from its box and squatted in front of the worm, all the while wishing I was someplace else.
Next came the most traumatising task of getting the stupid thing to crawl up the tissue. I started cursing the fact that the piece of tissue was firstly too small, secondly too soft.
Seriously, getting the thing to actually crawl up the tissue was a nightmare. I tried to slide the tissue under the worm and succeeded only in turning it upside down. I bit down on my lips as it flipped this way and that.
After several tries, and believe me it was horrible, it finally got on the tissue.
That was when pure panic struck.
"Oh God, help me," I cried as I held on to this tiny piece of tissue with the worm crawling on it. I folded the tissue in half, hoping that it would lessen my fear.
My eyes caught sight of the back door. I rushed towards it, all the while keeping an eye on the worm, ensuring that it was more or less staying in the middle of the tissue.
I opened the door and unfolded the tissue. I started wondering how I was going to transfer the worm onto the ground outside.
Then I simply gave up and threw the tissue, worm and all, on the ground and slammed the door shut.
Somewhere in the backyard of the Warburton Motel, there is a piece of tissue with a worm on it.
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