culture shock

I wasn't prepared for the shock of arrival at the place I'd planned for, dreamed of and struggled to get to. After packing and cleaning the house in Ballarat - stuff of nightmares and to raw and horrible to describe - and an aborted start to the drive, leaving Tom on the street in Adelaide and dashing with Dad across the continent in three days, the unease of Perth and the shopping for furniture, all of it came with me when I arrived here and undid me.

Looked at objectively this house, while on the highway and noisy, is cool, clean, small, within strolling distance of the beach, a perfect ‘Bess’ backyard and very little to do to maintain it all. But when I walked in here I was utterly traumatised by everything that had happened and had the strongest urge to flee as I’ve ever had. I was on my own and I just had to calm myself down, find the positives here and concentrate on them. But I wasn’t really able to feel okay about it all until Bess and I walked down to the beach that evening. The walk is along a tree-lined road, past well maintained houses whose reticulation sprinkles the footpath. At the end of the road is a parking area with a clean toilet block and a boat launch straight onto the beach. The beach – on the shores of Geographe Bay – is calm and warm. The water laps gently against the white sand and that first night, the almost-full moon was rising over the water. I walked east along the beach first, Bess in the water hoping a ball would miraculously appear, then when I turned back westward the fishermen were silhouetted against the setting sun. I was overwhelmed by how stunning it all was, how tranquil and relaxed, how much it felt like a holiday place. I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that I will live within bare feet walking distance from all this for at least 12 months, will get to see it in all weather and time of day. I haven’t taken my camera down there yet – like perhaps if I start sharing it, it will cease to be so beautiful – but I think I might tonight. I find myself looking at the clock, waiting for that magic time of the evening, but actually now I think about it, I can go anytime and then go again.

Today, for the first time on my own, I took Bess around to Dunsborough – some 15kms around the bay. We found an almost deserted swimming spot and dipped into the warm water – a lovely temperature from the heat of the day. I didn’t even have a towel; just air dried a bit then drove home. I ate biscuits and dip in my bathers on the back patio with a sandalwood stick wafting over me. Is this my life now?

…later

I did take my camera down to the beach and ended up getting there just after the sun went down. I knew a huge moon had to be rising at some point but all was dark on the eastern horizon. I took some photos (below), walked along and then gave up and turned back. Halfway back something made me turn and I was just in time to see the pregnant-orange moon plop over the horizon and swim above the faint lights of Bunbury. It was huge and dominating but silent and serene at the same time. I stood and watched it but it was also getting dark and I had to make it back along the beach and then home so we left. And now I’m home again – my first night on my own and it seems I’m going to have to get used to that again.

Home Stretch

Things got a bit hectic, but I am now living in a furniture-less house, devoid of most appliances, belongings and - most annoyingly - chairs. I'm sleeping on my camp mattress in my room with just my clock radio to wake me up three times for these last days of school. There are camping things around waiting to be packed into the car and the kitchen is still functional but that's about it. Oh, the TV is still there as it is going to Melbourne next week.

I'm thoroughly sick of dealing with STUFF though. Everything individual thing in my house had to be picked up and decided upon - bin, garage sale, give away, Vinnies, take in car, put in box.... - I had a moment the other day while throwing things in the skip of sheer hatred for all these things, possessions I don't even remember deciding to get - many things I never bought and just inherited when others couldn't work out what to do with them. The wasted time, expense and effort of buying these things is mindblowing and I'm determined to have a minimalist lifestyle in which if something is not reguarly used or admired it goes. If someone gives me something that I don't want I will just thank them and then get rid of it, knowing that the thought was there somewhere.

Currently I'm waiting at school for the boyfriend to bring the last of the furniture - a couch and two sofa chairs - here for the Year 12 common room, and then that will be it. Oh no, actually I have to ring Vinnies again to get them to come and get the wardrobe that was left behind on the last pickup. THEN I will be done with stuff. Or at least until I have to get rid of all the excess plates, glasses and pots and pans in the kitchen. THEN I'll be done. Then I'll be gone too.

Hooray.

The Culling of Stuff

Because I won't pay thousands of dollars to move virtually worthless possessions, I'm doing a massive cull. I aim to leave here with my bed, bedside table, 4 picture boxes and 10 packing boxes, plus the kennel for Bess. Considering the fact that it took THREE trips in a truck to get all my stuff here that is a serious amount to get rid of. We will have a massive garage sale, we've sold some things on ebay, some will be given away and the rest chucked.

To give you an idea of the amount of stuff I'm talking about, here is the 'garage sale room'. There is a lot of furniture that will be sold (including what you can see in here under all the junk!), but this is pretty much all of the "stuff" that needs to find a new home:


And just a moment ago I finished cleaning out the pantry. There are three boxes of stuff that is out of date and either open and half used or unopened. It is all stuff I haven't touched in the almost two years we've been here. I've tried to find somewhere to send it, but really I can't give it away - most of it is years out of date. These aren't small boxes either...


I do feel bad about having all these things/food/junk/stuff/crap/bits and pieces. It is all unnecessary and surplus to what two people need to live very comfortably. I am very much looking forward to getting to Busselton and having very little and trying very, very hard to minimise the amount of things I collect.

The other exciting bit of news is that there is a new community garden in Busselton - this is so much better than trying to grow stuff ourselves. The garden is all organic and run workshops on worm farming, composting and other organic gardening things. Can't wait! I've decided that we should have a rule to only ride our bikes to the garden.

The other decision I've made is to buy an electric scooter to ride to school. I'm sure this will be totally doable, I just need to practice riding one to feel that I'll be okay, which I'm sure I will be. A new challenge to be embraced.

Is this enough positives yet?

New Job = New Start?

After all the stress of worrying that things wouldn't work out I've finally managed to get a job I want in a place we want to be that pays significantly better than my current wage. It is a good job. Really, it is the job for which I've put up with all the shit of this year because in many ways it has been the way my CV looks now that got me the interview in the first place. While this new school is slightly posher than my current one, and the hours I'm required there are slightly longer, I am getting paid more and we will be living very close to it and, most importantly, I'm just a teacher there - no extra responsibilities or demands - the demands of teaching are enough for me. The plan then, is to stay there for two or three years full-time, save every single penny I can and then do something else. I have to promise that to myself because while I have taken this job and am happy about it, it isn't really, honestly what I want to do. I still need to find that thing.

There was a show on SBS that I stumbled upon the other night. I think it was called 'Roadtrip' but that seems a bad name for it. Three early-mid 20s travelled around together in a green motorhome and conducted interviews with successful people about career and life balance, happiness, regrets, family and associated things. They are looking for help in deciding the direction of their lives - what do they believe is success? how much should they do what they want over what they should? should lifestyle determine work or work determine lifestyle? These are questions I'm grappling with and while it was interesting to watch, it was also slightly scary that I've been asking this questions now for over ten years, with no real answers. And this new change....I wonder if it will provide any help with these things?

One guy interviewed (I got momentarily excited because his name is Tim Winton, but turns out it isn't the Tim Winton I'd want to hear from!) had a very interesting phrase he used to describe the process or moment of changing life - 'reaching escape velocity'. I like this phrase - it embodies in it the kind of energy and faith needed to get away from the things society thinks we should do, like work full time to be able to afford to buy the stuff that keeps the economy going. He also made the comment that the context of a profession does all it can to keep you there and pull you back in if you do try to break away. This is exactly how it feels - no one around you believes there is any other way of living life besides working full time and working yourself to death to move up and be successful etc, etc. It is very difficult to believe anything different when no one else does and there is no one to talk this stuff through with who doesn't have an agenda.

But this is all for later. For now, the upshot is that I have a job that allows us to move more easily between here and there. Once there, I can continue to explore these things.

Juggling a Jigsaw

The juggling act, the jigsaw, use any other metaphor you like, of moving interstate is at the moment quite mindblowing. It seemed such a simple idea. Beautifully simple. Leave a place we don't like for somewhere better. Many, many people talk about it and it is another thing to decide to do it, but on a whole other level to go through the process. Even for me, the veteran mover, the modern nomad.

Today I met my replacement. She who now has my job with all its joys and fucking insanity. I'm happy for her and I wondered, as I watched her walk off down the street, did she feel excited about it? was she at ease with her decision? You can't tell much from the back of an almost-stranger's head. Mostly I felt relief and the now-familiar panic. Relief that the school found someone decent. The panic is for my own situation. And then I went and taught a double of Year 7s with a splitting headache.

I have a phone interview on Friday for a school just south of Perth. Mum and Dad drove down there today to check the area out and did not fill me with excitement about it. It seems...soulless. And if there is one thing we want to avoid it is a lack of soul or heart or community or sense of the place where one lives as being special and part of a deliberate decision about one's life. We don't want to end up somewhere where other people have ended up. Plus, although the school is supposed to be a good one the staff carpark has an enormous fence around it. It's the little things, you see, that make a place what it is. And I'd really prefer to live in a place without large fences and 'dodgy' streets. Is this too much to ask?

There are other jobs to apply for, here and there. Mostly in Perth because I can only apply for non-government jobs until my government approval comes through (any time from now to eternity). But, frankly, how many of those government schools would I want to work in?

In fact, do I want to work in a school at all?

How this will all work out, will I go to WA with a job I want, a job at all? What I will do when we get there? Where we will live and how? And as this cycles around and around my head I wonder what I'm doing in the first place considering that only thing I'm 100% sure of is that I don't want to be here. And there is the niggle - will elsewhere really be any different?

Adelaide Thoughts

I find myself in Adelaide at an English teachers' conference to which I won a scholarship. The prospect of travelling and remaining as 'sustainable' as possible is actually quite difficult, although I think that on balance I've managed to do okay. Essentially this is because I didn't fly. I came over on the train, which besides being fun, is - I think - a much more sustainable way to travel. (I also just watched this thing about 'slow life' I think it was called, in Japan, and it really was nice to have a 'slow' experience of getting here). Of course I purchased food on board that would not have been sustainably made. And really, food is the biggest issue. Because I'm in a hotel without cooking facilities and my lunch is provided at the conference, I don't have a lot of choice in what I eat. It has to be made by someone else and for the masses = generally unsustainable. The hotel seems quite good with their energy usage - those long life bulbs and not changing sheets/towels every day, although their tvs are on standby power. Of course, I'm not that good at home so I can't say much. But, I have only travelled in buses and trams since I got here and mostly I've walked, so that's good. On Thursday I have a free day during which I'll hire one of the free bikes they provide here to do a bit of sightseeing. Then it is back on a bus and the train home.

I did see something quite disturbing today, however. In a session about the multiliteracies of children (younger than 10) we were being told about Penguin Club - kind of like Second Life for kiddies - and how one of the main activities is playing games (that seem to resemble blue collar work) for coins they can swap for clothes and things for their igloos. The 'economisation' of these children into functional consumers at younger than 10 is very scary.

Oh how I love my bike/oh how I hate the cold

The bf and I just went for our first ride together and it was lovely - really nice just coasting along and chatting. It was a tonic to all the other stuff - for awhile anyway. Photos are coming... I'm going to also buy a little trailer so that I can go shopping etc with it as I can't wear a backpack while riding (hurts my sholders). That will encourage me to not drive the car when I'm just doing jobs around town at all. Won't that be awesome!?

But I'm so fricking sick of the cold. I hate being trapped inside - where it is cold anyway. I hate wearing layers and layers and layers. I'm sick of having a sniffly nose and freezing fingers. And we have *months* left of these 10deg days. I keep looking at the forecast temps in Perth and sighing. Dad rang the other day when he was SITTING OUTSIDE to have a cup of tea. Geeze. Bring on Spring.

And there was this whole things with a beanie I knitted but it is just too depressing to talk about right now. Suffice to say that heads are quite large.