Fleeing from 'Peace'? Try again, Tony.

An ad by atat.ch church campaigning for the abolish of torture.

Something shocking happened in my country recently, something that made every decent Australian sick to the stomach.

Two boats, carrying a total of 203 Tamil asylum seekers from Sri Lanka, were intercepted by the Australia Navy in Australian waters, near Christmas Island. That is not the shocking part, up until recently, when the then-Labor government inhumanely slammed the door on asylum seekers, and the incoming Liberals put in place new policies with the same outcome, this was a fairly regular occurrence. Mr. Tony Abbott, and his government, gleefully point out that, obviously, its policies have been effective, because not a one single asylum seeker boat has landed in Australia for six months. Effective these policies have been; they have effectively shown the Australian people the sickening, inhumane levels their government is willing to sink to in an effort to ‘protect our borders’.

When the Australian Navy intercepted these two boats, the people were transferred from their unseaworthy, leaking vessels, into customs boats, and put through an “enhanced” (Abbott’s word, not mine) screening process. Under standard procedure, when as asylum seeker boat is intercepted, the people on board are asked 19 questions, the Tamils on board these boats were asked a grand total of 4: name, country of origin, why they had left, and where they planned to disembark. Then the customs boats were turned around and, in an undisclosed location in international waters, these people were handed back to the Sri Lankan navy, representatives of the very regime they had fled.

Of course, Mr. Abbott and his government have refused to confirm this, instead calling it “speculation”, but journalists from The Age, a paper owned by media entity Fairfax Media, were able to connect with the asylum seekers briefly, via satellite phone on the 28th of June. Mysteriously, the phone was cut off that day, and no further attempts to contact the asylum seekers were successful. Big surprise. And, while Tony Abbott and his government were still refusing to confirm that the boats full of Tamils even existed, the United Nations was expressing “profound concern”.

In 2009, a 26-year long civil war in Sri Lanka, between the majority Sinhalese, and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, in which atrocities on both sides were well documented, officially ended. Officially. So, if the civil war is over and, as Mr. Abbott claims, Sri Lanka is a peaceful country, why are boatloads of Tamils still fleeing internationally? Why are they telling tales of heinous tortures inflicted on innocent men, women and children, Tamil, all of them, but with no connection to the terrorist Tamil Tigers? Why did two Tamils on bridging visas in Victoria, who feared they would also be returned to their country of origin, attempt to immolate themselves - one successfully - rather than face the prospect of going ‘home’? What fate could be so terrible that you would rather burn yourself to death than face it?

Very few Australians could ever comprehend such a thing, and certainly not the ‘man’ at the head of their government. The UN has documented multiple human rights abuses against Tamils in Sri Lanka, and some of the refugees were able to tell their terrible stories to Fairfax Media before their communications were shut down. One man was forced to witness as Sri Lankan police stripped his friend naked, and inserted a PVC pipe through his anus; another was hung from the ceiling by his thumbs, and beaten with PVC pipes filled with sand, sometimes for up to six hours. Others were made to watch while their daughters, wives and sisters were brutally gang-raped, and a group of 35 Tamils, accused of being Tamil Tigers, were forced to sign confessions in Sinhala, a language they did not speak or understand.

On that note, while Tony Abbott claims Sri Lanka is a country “at peace”, Smart Traveller, a website run by the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, warns Australians to “exercise a high degree of caution” if they plan on going there. At peace are they, Mr. Abbott? Peaceful enough for their own people, but too dangerous for yours? Forgive me if I suggest you are engaging in racially based double-standards.

But, Australia has an agreement with Sri Lanka, or, as Immigration Minister Scott Morrison called it an “arrangement”. The long and short of this arrangement is that all boats carrying Sri Lankan nationals will be intercepted, and returned to Sri Lanka. Never mind that 90% of the people on board will be found to be genuine refugees, never mind that they will be facing jail, and torture, and the terrifying prospect of ‘disappearing’, every last Sri Lankan who attempts to enter Australia by boat will be sent back. Period.

The Abbott government claims the agreement is of international importance, and will help stop the “curse” of people smuggling. To this end, when Sri Lanka hosted the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in November 2013, Abbott gifted the country with two patrol boats, each worth about $2 billion Australian dollars (how about spending some of that money on your own people, Mr. Abbott?). Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper boycotted the event, to protest Sri Lanka’s failure to investigate war crimes committed by its troops during the final stages of its civil war, including the slaughter of as many as 40,000 civilians; while British Prime Minister David Cameron attended, but spoke on human rights issues. Two world leaders, both with close, international ties to Australia, were prepared to stand up, and show their people that they would not sit quietly while innocent people were being murdered and tortured. Australia’s leader, instead of taking a brave stance, handed the murderers $4 billion dollars worth of vessels with a specific purpose: war.

Of course, I’m sure Mr. Abbott wouldn’t put it that way. He would, no doubt, claim that the vessels were not war-time paraphernalia, but a genuine effort by Australia to help Sri Lanka tackle its next big issue, now that the civil war was over: people smuggling.

Mr. Abbott obviously needs a newsflash. People smugglers can only operate where there are people desperate enough to hand over everything they have, put their own lives, and the lives of their families, in the hands of people who don’t give a sh*t about them, and climb on board an over-crowded, leaking boat, then set off for shores unknown. Certainly, the people smugglers outright lie to them, claiming there are jobs, and houses, and all other sorts of luxuries waiting for them when they step ashore but, it Tony Abbott would really like to fight people smuggling, he needs to start lending a hand to the third world, and funding programs to give these people housing, clean water, enough food, and education. Then the people will be able to start rebuilding their countries, the people won’t want to leave, because they’ll have safety and purpose, and the people smugglers will be out of work.

That future is, I admit, so far in the distance that it seems unattainable, but, if Tony Abbott’s long term goal is to stop people smuggling, then this is the path he needs to tread. With Australia’s finances slightly out of shape at the moment, and the Federal Budget having already been delivered for the 2014-15 financial year, it will not be possible for Mr. Abbott and his government to start making changes immediately, but, it is certainly not too much to ask that they consider the foreign aid spend in future budgets, and what they might put it towards.

People smuggling is a heinous crime, but the way to stamp it out is not through inhumane refugee policies, or sending asylum seekers back to the very people they have fled from. The way to stop it is to help people in the countries where the people smugglers operate feel they have a purpose, and a reason to stay. If we educate both majority and minority groups about their responsibilities, to themselves and each other, and stand up in the face of human rights abuses and torture, I believe that, in the future, we can create a world free of people smuggling and, eventually, a world where no one need ever feel displaced. Idealistic? Maybe, but, if we work hard enough, it might just be possible.

Because toddlers have, and deserve, a voice

I just read the most terrible article. It literally made me sick to the stomach, and I felt I had to say something, or I'd be guilty of spreading the myth the article perpetuates. The myth that toddlers, and other non-verbal children, don't have a voice.

If you want to read the article, you can do so here, but, I warn you, it doesn't make for pleasant viewing. What's even more disturbing is that the woman who wrote it runs a popular parenting blog! Good God in Heaven, but, if we followed her advice, child protection would be knocking on every door in Australia!

The main gist of the article is this: that children have opinions, but they're not as important as the opinions of adults, and shouldn't be of interest to a parent. This makes me both sad and angry, the idea that parents shouldn't listen to their child's opinion. Now, this does not mean that a child, particularly a toddler, should be choosing where the parents go for lunch/dinner/brunch/breakfast/coffee, but any parent who does not listen to, respect, and value their child's opinion does not deserve to be a parent.

The article gives an example of so-called 'indulgent parenting', where a young couple and their toddler-aged son arrived at the cafe the author worked in a the time. They were there to have brunch, and, according to the author, the following exchange took place.

Author: Table for three? 

Parents: We'll need a minute. Sweetie, what do you want for brunch? Do you want eggs? Do you want to stay here? 

Toddler: DAK! 

Parents: (to toddler) Oh, OK honey. (to author) Sorry, he wants pancakes, you don't have those do you? 

Rather than recording her answer to this very reasonable question, the author proceeds to tell us that she laughed, yes laughed, at these parents. She tries to justify it by saying that she couldn't 'quite read their faces' but 'they've got to be joking', and that she 'chuckled', rather than laughed. Whatever she calls it, she laughed at potential customers, and then proceeded to viciously mock their parenting in her article. Did I mention that they left with their son? And so they should have! I would have left too if a staff member laughed at me. To me, it sounds like the author was simply annoyed that this family chose not to stay in her cafe, which means she missed out on a tip. Petty much?

The author then comments:

Maybe, just maybe, your child isn't making words at all and you are ridiculously projecting some kind of foodie personality on him already. That could be a possibility, couldn't it?

Or, perhaps his parents are more in tune with his babbling than you, who has only seen him once, could ever be, and know that 'DAK', is his word for 'pancakes'. Just because you don't understand it, doesn't mean his parents don't. Young children are constantly practicing their language skills, learning how to make intelligible sounds, and naming objects around them in their own baby language. Unfortunately, most adults don't understand this baby language, and we call it 'babbling', but it's an important part of a child's development. Dismissing babbling as 'nonsense', which this author does, is to say that a child's attempt to talk and communicate as adults do is worthless. Sounds like a classic case of 'children should be seen, not heard'.

But, I haven't even got to the most disturbing part of the article yet. Twelve paragraphs in, in ALL CAPS, the author makes the following statement regarding toddlers:

THEIR OPINIONS JUST AREN'T AS IMPORTANT AS OURS.

Well, I'm disgusted that any rational, loving parent could possibly believe this in any way, shape or form. If I heard any parent at the daycare say this, either to another parent, a staff member, or - God forbid! - a child, I would be reporting it to my director immediately, and recommending that the parent be offered some resources to educate them on the importance of understanding, and respecting, their child's opinion.

Respecting your child's opinion doesn't mean slavishly allowing them whatever they want. For example, if it's dinner time, and you're having steak and three veg, and it is your child's opinion that double chocolate ice-cream would make a better dinner, don't leap to your feet and get them a bowl of ice-cream. Instead, tell them that ice-cream is a treat for after dinner/weekends/birthdays or whatever you have decided. Tell them that it's important to eat their dinner, so they don't go hungry, but don't fall into the old trap of forcing them to eat. If they want to eat the steak, but not the vegetables, don't get too fussed about it. Ask them why they don't want to eat the vegetables. The likely answer is going to be 'I don't like them'. Ask them why, and get them to think about why they don't like them. If you get an answer along the lines of 'Because they're yucky', I would recommend just leaving it there. Keep trying with the vegetables but, as long as your child is not underweight, or in any other way unhealthy, don't push too hard. My sister hated vegetables all through her childhood, and even perfected the art of screaming with her mouth closed when my mum tried to feed her anything green. She's changed her tune now she's older, and enjoys her home made smoothies, and fruit and veggie juices. She even brought herself a home juicer.

The point? Your children's tastes will change as they grow older. Just because they don't like it now, doesn't mean they will be forever at odds with it. Furthermore, how would you feel if someone bigger than you tried to force feed you something you thought was disgusting? Something I was taught when I did my studies was that you should never do to a child what you would not be prepared to do to an adult.

What I'm trying to say is that, just because children can't verbalise their opinions doesn't mean they don't have them, and that they shouldn't be listened to. Babbling is an important stage in a child's language development, as they learn how to make sounds, and attach meanings to everyday objects. Don't write their attempts at speech off as 'cute, but meaningless', they have as much right to be heard as we do.

~ Jewels

Chromebook - My love affair with Google

It's been a while since I've blogged, I know, I've been busy. That always seems to be my excuse, doesn't it? Well, it's true. I've gone from twiddling my thumbs all day in Mildura to working my butt off in Melbourne, but I'm loving it. You know what I'm also loving? Pay day! I'm paid fortnightly at ECKids, so, every two weeks, a big, fat sum of money makes its way into my bank account. Some of it goes into my savings account, I'm hoping to go on a little trip next year, and some of it goes to pay my bills. The rest sits in my everyday account for me to spend at my leisure.

Clothes have been my major purchases since I started earning dollars, and I've splashed out on some fun things like classy sleepwear and cheeky underwear ;) However, my biggest purchase occurred yesterday, when I brought myself a new computer, and not just any old computer, but a Google Chromebook.

I've been interested in Chromebooks since they first came out in 2011. At that stage, I had already been using Gmail (Google email) and Google Docs (word processing) for several years, and was in the process of switching to Google Drive for document storage. Chrome was my preferred internet browser, despite the fact that I had a Microsoft Windows laptop at the time. I wasn't surprised to see that Google had entered the operating system market, although I did wonder how they'd go competing against Apple and, of course, the operating system king, Microsoft. It wasn't until very recently, when I seriously considered getting a Chromebook, that I started doing some more in-depth research about what the Chromebook, and Google's operating system Chrome OS, were about. 

Where Chromebook differs from other makes of computer is that it has no hard drive or memory of its own. Everything on the Chromebook is stored on Google Cloud, all on the web, and the computer itself is just a gateway to the Wonderful World of Google. Take Google Drive, for instance, which is Google's Office Suite. Docs is a word processor which can do everything Microsoft Word can, with a few formatting exceptions, and Google Sheets is a spreadsheet app that works exactly the same way as Microsoft Excel. There are some very large, successful businesses that don't use Microsoft Excel to do their spreadsheets, but do everything with Google Sheets. There is also Google Presentations, which makes slideshows in the same way PowerPoint does. While you're working on your document, Google will be automatically saving your work as you go, so if you suddenly run out of battery power in the middle of writing that important assignment, don't stress, Google will have saved it up to the minute for you.

Nothing is stored on the computer itself, all your apps (Drive, Gmail, Google Play Music [yes, you can store your music with Chromebook], Google Play, Calendar etc.) are all stored on Google's cloud, which means that, wherever you go, you can log onto your Google account and access all your documents, bookmarks etc. without your Chromebook. Although, I don't know why you wouldn't take your Chromebook with you wherever you go, because it's slim, compact and, most importantly, light. The Samsung model, which I have, weighs in at a measly 1.1kgs, and is about 11ich wide. It's smaller than most computers, but it more than makes up for it with a super-bright screen, and a spacious keyboard.

Anything you can store on a regular hard drive, photos, documents, PDFs etc., you can store on Google Cloud, simply by installing some handy (free!) apps from the Chrome Web Store. The apps on the Chrome Web Store are the 'software' for Chromebook, and you can find everything fun, friendly and practical in there. There's offline apps as well, so if you ever loose your internet connection (very frustrating, I'm sure you'll agree) you can still read emails, edit documents, and upload photos.

One of the best things about Google is that you only need to sign into your account once to access all your Google apps. To log onto the Chromebook, you just need to type in your Google password, and the world is yours, well, the world of Google, anyway.

Chromebook comes with most of the essential apps built in. Gmail, Drive, Chrome Web Store, Google Search, Youtube, Google Maps and Calender all come as standard with the Chromebook. From there, you can choose from, literally, thousands of apps to personalise your Chromebook. 

Speed is another thing the Chromebook as going for it. The Samsung model boots in less than 10 seconds (a standard laptop takes between 20 and 30 seconds to boot), and there's no need to install anti-virus, or updates, the Chromebook does that automatically.

Well, I don't know what else I can say about my Chromebook, other than I think it's absolutely the bees knees. I love it, and I can't wait to continue playing around on it and learning how it works. I'm sure you'll be hearing from me when I do.

From the Chromebook,

~ Juliana 

This is Life in Colour

Sometimes, in life, you surprise yourself. You do something you never thought you could do, and you do it well. I've had one of those moments. Last Friday (26/06/13) I completed my Certificate III in Children's Services, which is an entry level qualification into the children's services industry. It's taken my a long time to get here, and there's been several hurdles along the way. I was close to giving up dozens of times, and I suffered from prolonged periods of self-doubt and constantly asked myself 'Is that right for me?' After finishing my course, I'm still not sure about the last question, but I'll find out when I hit the big, wide world of children's services.

I heard the song 'Life in Colour' by OneRepublic the week I finished my course, and felt it described perfectly how I was feeling and what lay ahead. I've included a YouTube clip of the studio version (my favourite version) with lyrics. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have lately.

In other news, I've been busy as a bee, helping my parents plan their 25th wedding anniversary. They're arranging to renew their wedding vows, and we had the celebrant over last Sunday to discuss the ceremony and how everything's going to go. I'm doing a reading, and also saying a short speech. My dad's parents are coming over from New Zealand for the anniversary, and his brother and his brother's partner are coming across from Adelaide. My mum's sister and her children are coming as well, but they already live in Melbourne, so they're not travelling far. For my reading, I wrote a triolet called 'Perhaps in Heaven', which I've included below.

Perhaps in Heaven

Perhaps in heaven, love comes first

But I’ve found true love here on earth

And into it I plunged headfirst

Perhaps in heaven, love comes first

But if ever I’m at my worst

Remind me, dear, for what it’s worth

Perhaps in heaven, love comes first

But I’ve found true love here on earth

My parents really are soul mates, and have been very happily married for twenty-five years. They really embody the spirit of unity, and I hope and pray that they have many more happy years before them. I also hope that, one day, I'll find someone who I want to share my life with, and who wants me to share theirs. But, for now, I'm happy just sorting myself out, and celebrating my parents' wonderful milestone.

Last weekend, I caught up with my friend Michelle, who just got back from a six month student exchange in Sweden. She's become quite adventurous since going overseas, and has really grasped the idea that life is short, so you have to seize the day. We went out for hot chocolate at the Lindt cafe in Melbourne, and then to lunch in a tiny, cramped nook near Flinders Street Station which, truth be told, was absolutely marvelous. We then caught a tram to Docklands, and I took photographs of her while she had a go at ice skating. She told me that she had a go at ice skating on a frozen over pond in Sweden, and was keen to give it another try. I've done a little bit of skating, and it's not something I really enjoy, so I was happy to play photographer and stay off the ice.

I was very impressed by her skills, as Mish was quite a natural on the ice. When I went ice skating, I spend the whole time hanging onto the side of the rink, while my feet slipped and slid under me like I was on wheels. It was awful! Mish, on the other hand, glided around like Swan Lake on Ice (which I went to see once, and it was fantastic). After ice skating, I brought a coat in my favourite shade of blue which I'd seen on the way to the rink, and then we caught a tram back to Flinders Street and parted ways.

I'll be seeing Mish again sometime next week, as we're going to the Monet's Garden exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria some time. I'm not sure when yet, but my parents have been kind enough to pay for my ticket. The price was very reasonable, since we'll be viewing Monet, who is acknowledged as a master, but I'm absolutely down to the wire with finances at the moment, and wouldn't have been able to go if my parents hadn't paid for me. 

To finish this blog post, here is a lovely video of two babies playing with rubber bands. It doesn't take much to entertain a baby, as they are learning how the world works, and the simplest things excite them. You can have the most expensive, amazing, up-to-date, plastic-fantastic toys, but, at the end of the day, a baby is more likely to be interested in the world around them (and you!) than any toy.

Well, that's all from me for now. I'll blog again after I've been to Monet, and let you know what it was like, and if it's worth going to if you're in Melbourne. 

Until then!

~ Australian Kiwi

Puff, Pant, and Work Your Heart Out!

In case you didn't guess from the title of this post, it's about... (drum roll please)... EXERCISE!

(Oh, come on, stop groaning)

I've had a pretty intense two days exercise wise so far, and I've found a new, slightly longer training route for the Ride to Conquer Cancer.

While I'm on holiday, and have a lot of free time up my sleeve, I've started planning out my days. Sometimes, I find that time slips away on me when I've got too much of it, and I waste it doing frivolous things. My timetable is flexible, for if something unexpected pops up and I have to reschedule, but I try to stick to it as best I can.

Yesterday I got back into regular exercise, and I hit the gym for an intense forty-five minute cardio workout, courtesy of Les Mills SH'BAM. I've wanted to try out a SH'BAM class for ages, but haven't had the time, so yesterday seemed like too good an opportunity to miss to try it.

For those who don't know, SH'BAM is a dance-based cardio workout, and it's the most fun I've ever had doing exercise. The warm-up, the cool-down, and everything in between is dance. We do everything from hip-hop, to contemporary, to jazz ballet, and it's one hell of a workout. 

Now, I confess, I'm not a good dancer, I don't have much of a sense of rhythm. The class yesterday was small (only about six or seven people, because it's school holidays), and I took a spot up the front so I could see the instructor. For the few few tracks I felt like an elephant in a ballet studio, trying to get into the swing of things. The instructor kept saying 'less aerobics, more dance!', and I found it hard to get 'dancing' when I was supposed to be exercising. By the third or fourth track, though, I was starting to get into it and enjoy the class. I still had trouble with some of the moves, but I was less worried about that. It's not often I really get to let my hair down, and yesterday was definitely one of those times where I just let loose.

I would recommend SH'BAM to anyone wanting a fun, cardio-based workout. Don't worry if you can't dance, just go with it and, as the instructor said yesterday, 'feel the beat!'

I got home from SH'BAM and had some lunch, before having a shower and a nap. When I woke up, do you think I decided to sit down a relax? Of course not! I got on my cycling gear and headed out on a new, longer training ride for the Ride to Conquer Cancer. 

My original ride was only just 4.0kms, and it was flat most of the way, with only one hill. This new route is 5.2kms, and has a mixture of flat and hills. Some of them are really subtle slopes too, which you don't realize you're riding up until you're half-way up and you have to change gears to keep going. I suspect I'll be dealing with a fair few of those when I do the Ride in October. Also, my new route goes in a circle  it starts and ends at my house, where I actually had to turn around with my old route and go back the way I came to get back home again.

My new training route; 5.2kms

There's footpath the whole way, which is good, although parts of it are in very poor repair. It's not really a problem for me on my bike, but runners and power-walkers had better beware. Someone I know recently tripped on uneven footpath and ended up with nasty cuts and bruises to their face. They had  horrible scab on their chin for weeks, and a scar is still visible on their nose where their glasses cut into it.

I went for another bike ride this morning, going the same route. I forgot to lower my gear from yesterday, and accidentally did the ride in third, rather than fourth, gear. This is interesting, as I found today's ride, along the same route in a lower gear, harder than yesterday. Perhaps simply because I'm more tired after my intense day yesterday.

As always, donations for my ride are much appreciated. Chip in here, and your contribution will immediately benefit Peter Mac. 

Well, I'm off to have some lunch, and then I'm off to try on costumes for my fairytale and fantasy themed birthday party coming up soon.

~ Australian Kiwi

Twenty Years Living

Yesterday (09/03/2013) I said farewell to my pre-adult years and the joys of teen-hood, and celebrated my twentieth birthday.

I raked in a good haul, receiving from my sister the book Ransom by David Malouf, and a beautiful Birthday Girl champagne flute from my parents. My aunt gave me money towards a pair of bike shorts for the Ride to Conquer Cancer, and my friend over in Sweden sent me two Swedish shot glasses to add to my collection.

I was lucky enough to get birthday brunch and birthday dinner, as my sister had to work last night, and couldn't be at the dinner. We went for brunch at Theobrama Chocolate Lounge in Melbourne Central, and, while everyone else helped themselves to second breakfast and chocolate drinks, I went all out for the chocolate. I had a dark chocolate frappe with whipped cream, and a croissant drizzled in molten chocolate, with strawberries and vanilla ice-cream on the side.

In fact, I had a lot of chocolate yesterday but, it was my birthday, so, why not?

Birthday dinner with my parents and my aunt was a lovely affair. We had before dinner nibbles alfresco style, as it was cooler outside than in. We had a mixture of sweet and savory nibbles, with chips, bagettes, breadsticks and dips, along with licorice bullets, dark chocolate and party mix, gracing the table. Dinner, cooked by my wonderful mother, consisted of a main dish of chicken in a rich mushroom sauce, with two sides: homemade semi-dried tomatoes, and fresh asparagus in a seeded mustard dressing. Then, for desert, there was, of course, birthday cake, but also homemade chocolate truffles and peppermint cremes.

Facebook proved the place to be for birthday wishes, with my family and friends all over the world stopping by my wall to write a birthday message. I received wishes from Australia, New Zealand, and even Sweden!

So, twenty, what does it even mean?

It was my first birthday back in Melbourne, and I'm taking the fact that it went so well as a good omen for the rest of my year. A lot of good things have happened to me around this time, and I had a look at my astrological yearly forecast I had done at the Mind, Body, Spirit Festival last year. According to the forecast, at about this time, things swill start to fall into place for me, and difficult tasks do not seen as daunting as they usually would. The interesting thing is, I start placement on Tuesday next week, and have a lot of work to get through. Normally, the thought of interacting with children and having to take observations, organize activities etc. would terrify me, but I've been no more flustered by this than I would be by a feather floating past my ear. Actually I'm really looking forward to placement, and I'm seeking it, not as a difficult task, but as a fantastic experience in my industry.

I also managed to tick something off on my bucket list recently! I have just started lessons with my very first ESL student. We met last Wednesday, and got on like a house on fire. We'll meet weekly for as long as she likes, which could be a month, or we could be seeing each other for years!

So, I look at twenty as the beginning of something good, something powerful and special. After all, you only live once.

~ Australian Kiwi

Bucket List? Someone give it a new name!

Started my childcare course on Monday, and had quite an enjoyable, if very busy, week. Monday - Wednesday was all orientation, and classes didn't start until Thursday, but they sure packed things into that orientation week. Getting-to-know you activities, presentations by student services, forms and administration, timetables and class lists, it was all happening. I won't dwell on orientation, because it wasn't that much fun. The real fun happened on Thursday and Friday, when I started classes.

The course is structured differently at VU than it was at SuniTAFE, and I actually like the VU structure a lot better. At SuniTAFE, each unit was a different subject, which was why the course took a year to do, as there weren't enough hours and days in the week to do all the subjects over six months. VU does the Cert III course over six months as they group all the different units into six clusters: Professional & Legal; Community & Diversity; Health & Safety; Wellbeing; Play & Learning; Development. There's also a subject called Prac Support, which we do on Mondays when we're out on placement, but my first placement isn't until the week beginning March 11. I have two clusters a day - AM and PM - and have Friday afternoons off, which is an added bonus. A morning class run from 9am till 12pm, and an afternoon class from 1pm till 4pm. We have an hour break for lunch from 12 till 1pm, and one half hour break in the middle of our morning and afternoon classes.

My morning class on Thursday is Play & Learning, which is a practical class covering the units: Provide experiences to support children's play and learning; Support sustainable practice. In a children's services course, a practical class involves making toys, singing songs, reading picture books, and making presentations to and with our classmates as if they were children in our care. My teacher has us start the class by singing a song, and finishes by reading us a picture book. The song we sung last Thursday was Rock-a-Bye Your Bear by The Wiggles. The song has actions to it as well, so we had to do those too. I'mm not particularly familiar with The Wiggles, but I think I'm going to have to start familiarizing myself with them, and other children's entertainment groups. I'll probably have to start watching children's TV again too, and familiarize myself with the songs and characters from popular children's shows.

My afternoon class was Development, which covers the units: Develop an understanding of children's interest and developmental needs; Support the development of children. While my tutor said the class could be quite dry, I actually found it particularly interesting. Human development, as a topic, is inherently fascinating to me, and is part of what drew me to Children's Services. The most rapid development in humans happens between birth and seven years of age, and working in Children's Services involves caring for children during some of the most crucial developmental years of their life. We talked about toys and objects to support children's development, and how, for example, infants need different forms of play and activities to stimulate their development than, say, three-year-olds.

My Friday morning class was Wellbeing. This cluster comprises of three units: Provide care for children; Provide care for babies; Contribute to the provision of nutritionally balanced food in a safe and hygienic manner. This class was pretty fun, we got into groups and made posters about what wellbeing meant to use, and to children, by cutting out pictures from magazines. The posters are up on the walls of the classroom, and my tutor said that we'll be using them in her classes for 'inspiration' as the lessons progress.

I haven't had any of my other clusters yet, but I'll be posting when I do. Watch this space if you're interested.

Now, what about the title of this post? It's called 'Bucket List', isn't it? There's been nothing about a Bucket List so far! Well, here it comes now.

My 'Bucket List' (I hate that name so much! I know where it comes from, and what it means, but still...) is ever expanding and progressing. s of 2013, several more things have been added, and I've removed those things from previous Bucket Lists that I have already completed. So, without further ado, and in no particular order, allow me to present my bucket list:

• Finish my Cert III in Children's Services
• Find full or part-time employment in the Children's Services industry
• Teach ESL in Australia
• Work a winter season at Mt. Bulla in their creche
• Celebrate my 21st Birthday in New Zealand with my extended family
• Go on a TEFL internship to China or Vietnam
• Own a house rabbit
• Publish a novel
• Ride a train to the end of the line and explore the new area
• Experience my first kiss
• Be a bridesmaid
• Travel to Europe; especially Greece, England, Ireland, Turkey and Italy. 

I know it's not very long, but, as I mentioned already, my bucket list is a work-in-progress. Ever expanding and developing as I find new things I want to do.

Well, that's enough blogging for now, my fingers are tired of typing, and I think I'd like to go and read my book for a while.

~ Australian Kiwi   

Trying to figure out the time zone's makin' me CRAZY

My best friend left for Sweden on Friday night to do a five month study exchange. She hasn't even been gone for 24 hours and I already miss her like there's no tomorrow. I want her to have an awesome, amazing time abroad, but I won't lie, I wish she was here.

This is us, I'm on the right

I'm also a tinsey, tinesy bit jealous, but in a good way. She's in Sweden, on another continent in a whole different hemisphere, while I'm still in Australia. Don't get me wrong, I love Australia, but I'd still love to be doing a study exchange overseas. Although, if I get into the course I want, which is only six months, and get a job afterwards (the industry I want to get into is just begging for workers) I'll be able to start saving up to go on a TEFL internship to either China or Vietnam in 2014 or 2015, which I'm just dying to do. Maybe then I'll get my overseas adventure.

Until then, I've decided that, at least until I start my course, I'm going to make everyday in Melbourne an adventure, starting tomorrow. I don't know what kind of adventures I'm going to have yet, but I'll keep you all posted. I'll take my iPod with me and take some photos of where I go (maybe even some video, but no promises) and let you know how it all went.

I'm sure my friend will read this at some point, and, if you do, I want you to know that I miss you, and I hope you're not too jet lagged. Enjoy your day, whatever comes, I send me a postcard when you're all settled in. <3 p="p">

~ Australian Kiwi

"All the world will be in love with night"

In Love With Night

I wrote your name in silver stars,

That gleam aloft in darkened sky.

From Pluto all the way to Mars,

I wrote your name in silver stars.

In years to come they'll stand in bars,

And each of them will wonder why

I wrote your name in silver stars

That gleam aloft in darkened sky.

More poetry by Australian Kiwi, you're probably getting sick of it by now, but I like to share. Admittedly  the picture is not mine, I found that on the net, but the poem was written by my own hand, or, rather, typed by my own fingers.

I was inspired to write this by the line in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. In Act III, Scene II, Juliet gives her soliloquy about Romeo (you know, the one where she says the famous line 'Where for art thou Romeo?), and says '...He will make the face of heaven so fine/That all the world will be in love with night'. I have always felt an affinity with night, and this poem is a tribute to the beauty of the night sky, but it is also a love poem. I have dedicated it to someone I have deep, romantic feelings for, but, unfortunately these feelings are not returned. 

Yes, I do sound like a love struck idiot, don't I? Sitting around writing poetry about the night sky and my true love. *sigh* Oh well, I enjoy writing poetry, and it helps me relax.

One of my dreams is to go somewhere where I can lie on the ground at night, look up at the sky, and see nothing but stars from horizon to horizon. I have been told that you can do that in outback Australia, but I don't think I want to go alone. I'm not one for camping, and the only way I'd be getting into outback Australia would be in a caravan, and I'm not too fond of those things either. But, it would be worth it to see the stars. I know that, literally, stars are glowing balls of gas millions of miles away, but, to a poet's mind, they are so much more.

When I was a little girl, I used to believe that stars were the people in heaven. When my Nana Mac died, I found it very comforting to look up at the stars and imagine that I could pick her out from all the rest of them. Sometimes the stars are little hearts, beating in sync with my own, and other times they are the tears strewn across the universe by the weeping moon. They can be beautiful and radiant, or they can be cold and melancholy. A star is many different things to one person, depending on their mood when they gaze at the sky. 

On the subject of stars, perhaps the most famous work on them is Vincent Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. I remember studying this painting in primary school, and being swept away by the beauty and sur-reality of it. I'm actually not a great fan of impressionistic art work, but something about 'Starry Night' really speaks to me. In some ways, I feel that I can see what Van Gogh saw the night he put his brush to his easel and painted what is now a classic artwork. He saw his dreams reflected in those tiny, pin-pricks of light strewn across the vast blackness. Unfortunately, Van Gogh's life was cut short by his eventual suicide, but his dreams live on in his artwork. This is how I see the stars now, as a reflection of my dreams, glowing brightly, waiting for me to catch them.

'Starry Night' by Vincent Van Gogh

I found another image on the internet called 'Starry Night Reimagined', which also struck a chord with me. It is a digital artwork, which shows an artist's impression of what Van Gogh might have seen the night he painted his masterpiece.

'Starry Night Reimagined'

I don't know who created this artwork, but all credit to them, this is a stunning digital work. Amazing what some people can do with computers, isn't it?

I could go on all night about stars, and how they remind me of my dreams and, by extension, the person I love, but I won't. That would be boring, but, my darling, if you come to me, I promise, from Pluto all the way to Mars, I'll write your name in silver stars.

"For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."

~ Vincent Van Gogh

~ Australian Kiwi

  

Imagine if the world was different...

Imagine if all you straight, 'normal' people had to stand on the steps of parliament house and rally for your right to marry the one you loved? Imagine if you were jeered at because you were different from the majority. Imagine if you felt you had to hide who you were because your own family might turn against you if they knew. What if you were told by the churches that your love was a sin? What if you had to listen to people say 'That's so straight' and 'Don't be so f***ing straight' like it was a sign of weakness? 

This is what gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex and queer people face everyday. Everyday that are subjected to abuse and criticism because they're not 'normal'. Who gave you the right to hurt your fellow human beings? Who gave you the right to take their rights away? What if it was you? How would you feel? Just think about it.

Gay, Lesbian and Queer Pride

Bi Pride Flag

Trans Pride Flag

Intersex Pride Flag

Are we too literal?

Have we, as readers, become too literal in our interpretation of the written word?

I recently publish a poem in my writing community which was originally titled 'A White Clad Woman All Aflame', and was accompanied by the picture below.

A Suicide for the Strong by Sarah Ann Loreth

A white clad woman all aflame,
Deadly sparks dancing in her hair.
Burning with lies, secrets and shame,
Yet she stands still without a care.

Deadly sparks dancing in her hair,
Greedy red tongues licking her skin.
Yet she stands without a care,
On the brink of total ruin.

Greedy red tongues licking her skin,
But she gives not one single cry.
On the brink of total ruin,

And here she stands prepared to die.

But she gives not one single cry,
Burning with lies, secrets and shame.

And here she stands prepared to die,

A white clad woman all aflame.

I intended the poem to be a metaphor for the innocence we lose as we grow from children to adolescents, and then to adults. The 'white clad woman' is innocence, and she is being burned by the fire representing the challenges we face as we grow up, the 'lies, secrets and shame'. Eventually there will be nothing left of her, hence she stands 'on the brink of total ruin' and 'prepared to die' as we must all shed our innocence and step out into the wider world at some point in our lives. 'She gives not one single cry' because she understands that she has now served her purpose for this person in this world, and will go and bestow her gifts upon another.

So, this was my intention. I published the poem and then went away to read a book for a while, when I came back and checked my reviews, I was shocked when I read review after review saying how disturbing my poem had been, and how my reviewers could not imagine anyone setting themselves alight. What was obvious to me was not obvious to them. I quickly replied to all the reviews, explaining my intention, and changed the title of my work to 'Innocence is Burning' and explained my metaphors in the author's notes section. 

But, here is what gets me.

Poetry lives on the metaphor. Without the metaphor, a poet cannot write, and when a reader takes a poem literally, they destroy the metaphor, and thereby destroy the work of the poet. 

To illustrate my point further, I will use another example. 

Take the poem 'Bright Star' by John Keats. Now, I know my poetry is certainly not in the same league as that of John Keats, but my point still stands. If you read 'Bright Star' literally, then we read John Keats' commentary on a star, which is very nice, but not the point of the poem. It is well known that Keats wrote the poem about Fanny Brawn, who he was deeply in love with, and not about a star. He uses the metaphor to compare her to a star, comparing her with the celestial bodies 'hung aloft the night', but we do not take his poem literally and say that John Keats was in love with a glowing ball of gas millions of miles away!

So, do you see my point? If poetry is taken literally, without the metaphor, it dies, plain and simple, and the day poetry dies will be a sad day for the human race.

~ Australian Kiwi

The Reunion of Hektor and Andromache

Through fields brooks run bubbling,
In soft daylight sweet birds do sing.
The grasses here forever green,
No sorrow have these fields seen.
Under skies of blue, brave men talk,
While arm-in-arm their women walk.


There is no night, no darkness here,
The souls do walk all free of fear.
To this place all heroes are bound,
Their shades step softly on the ground.
They indulge in earthly pleasures,
In Elysion, full of treasures.


But one great man steps lonely here,
His wringing hands once cast a spear.
He mourns and weeps all for his wife,
Whom he did cherish most in life.
Across his heart her name engraved,
Andromache who Greeks enslaved.


Under Troy's walls he met his doom,
She was taken to ply the loom.
She lay within her master's bed,
And none could count the tears she shed.
While Hektor waited here alone,
Her ghastly fate he did bemoan.


The other souls they whisper soft,
Great Hektor, he does look so lost.
He cries for dear Andromache,
And would do anything for she.
He'd free her from the world above,
And shower her with tender love.


Most wretched Karon's boat draws near,
He comes not even once a year.
A woman garbed in deepest blue,
Does sail slowly into view.
Upon her lips a haunting song,
Of one who has known many wrongs.


But, who is she that steps ashow?
Bold Hektor, shed your tears no more!
The woman garbed in deepest blue,
In Andromache come to you.
Walk forward, take her in your arms,
Protect her now from every harm.


Andromache, my lovely wife,
Without you all I've known is strife.
Long age were we torn apart,
And bleeding freely was my heart.
But now to have you safe once more,
I will know joy forevermore.


Oh Hektor, husband, bold and strong,
When you were lost the days were long.
I wept bitterly for my fate,
Forced to serve those I did hate.
But we are reunited now,
To feel grief, I know not how.


Come walk with me, Andromache,
For there is much here you must see.
The grasses here are always green,
Cold moonlight never casts her beam.
Warm sunlight here does always shine,
Now with you, Elysion's fine.

So his dear wife stretched out her hand,
And Hektor led her through the land.
He himself saw all with new eyes,
Saw that Elysion told no lies.
That in this place was bliss and joy,
As he had known in windy Troy.


Dear husband, stop, one moment please,
Andromache fell to her knees.
Brave Hektor knelt before her now,
And very gently kissed her brow.
I fear I may awake from this,
Forced again to serve a mistress.


Up on his feet bold Hektor got,
No, slavery is not your lot.
Andromache, come stand with me,
This is no dream, I'll prove to thee.
He lifted her up on her feet,
And kissed her gently, long and deep.


Now when at last they broke apart,
Joy did fill Andromache's heart.
You could not dream that kiss, my love,
Were you still trapped in the above.
This is the truth, I tell you so,
You left that world long, long ago.


My Hektor dear, I love you true,
I am so glad I came to you.
I have left heartbreak and toil,
And dwell now on blessed soil.
Now promise me we'll never part,
And heal now my broken heart.


Andromache, this I do swear,
My leaving you need never fear.
Together here we will now dwell,
To grief and sorrow, bid farewell.
Come close my dear, and kiss me now,
Seal with your lips my spoken vow.


She kissed him gently on the lips,
He placed his hands onto her hips.
He pulled her close and held her tight,
As he once did in Troy at night.
They lay together once again,
And both loved now as they had then.


For since his wife came to his side,
Not one tear has bold Hektor cried.
They spend their days in bliss and peace,
Their laughter never seems to cease.
Forever now they'll not know pain,
Or tears like bitter, winter rain.


Through fields brooks run bubbling,
In soft daylight sweet birds do sing.
The grasses here forever green,
No sorrow have these fields seen.
For now Andromache abides,
Forever young at Hektor's side.

This is a poem I wrote this afternoon. It's the longest poem I've ever written, seven hundred and twenty nine words! It deals with my two favorite characters in the Trojan War cycle, Hektor, and his wife Andromache. I will honestly say that it bothers me that the Trojans, who did everything right, were the ones who lost the war. They were noble, upstanding, gracious, and fought honestly. 

How many of us imagine Hektor and Andromache. Eric Banna 

as Hektor and Saffron Burrows as Andromache in the 2004 film

'Troy'

It annoyed me the first time I read the Iliad that it was Hektor who was slain when he fought Achilles, Achilles who had sulked in his tent and packed a sad because Agamemnon had stolen his slave girl. Achilles blamed Hektor for the death of Patroklos, but if Achilles hadn't been so besotted with his own importance, then Patroklos would never have gone out impersonating him, never would have faced Hektor, and never would have died. So, the real fault for Patroklos's death lies with Achilles. 

So, after defeating Hektor, Achilles has a chance to prove he is as noble as the Trojans, rather than a sulking child, but, instead, he pushes this aside and desecrates Hektor's corpse. When I talk to people who call Achilles a hero, I ask them whether heroes desecrate corpses. Most people stop talking to me at that stage and say I take the Iliad too seriously but, hey, I'll be the first to admit they're right. I do take the Iliad seriously. Furthermore, Achilles has left his 'dear comrade' Patroklos unburied for days! Without proper rites, Patroklos's shade cannot pass into the Underworld and achieve peace. It is only when Patroklos's ghost appears to Achilles and demands to be buried that Achilles grants his friend rest. Achilles does eventually return Hektor's corpse to the Trojans so they can hold a proper funeral for him, but the damage has been done.

'Achilles Triumphant' by Howard David Johnson

The Iliad ends with Hektor's funeral, where his mother, his wife, and Helen of Troy lament over him. But, later on in the Trojan War cycle, Paris kills Achilles with his bow. Achilles corpse is rescued by his countrymen, and they bury him with full honours. But, to make matters even worse, Achilles achieves Elysion! The isle of the blessed, where the virtuous and glorious go after they die, to live in peace and bliss forever. There is no mention in any of the epic cycles that Hektor, a much greater hero than Achilles, achieves Elysion. After his funeral, Hektor is very much brushed aside by the epic poets. Andromache merits a few mentions in later epics, when she is taken as a slave-concubine by Achilles's son, Neoptolemos. For Hektor and Andromache, the one couple in the Iliad who love rather than lust (Paris and Helen, and Achilles and Briseis personify lust), there is no happy ending. This has always bothered me.

T'he popular image of Achilles. Brad Pitt as Achilles in

the 2004 movie 'Troy

Even to the ancients, Achilles's treatment of Hektor's corpse was unspeakably vile. The Greeks prided themselves on being civilized, and to desecrate a corpse was an act of absolute barbarianism. While in early literature, Achilles achieves Elysion, in later poems he is depicted as just another soul wandering the Asphodel Meadows, where the ordinary folk go after death. This is clearly a much more acceptable place for a man who desecrates corpses and leaves his friends unburied. In truth, for these crimes, Achilles should have been sent to Tartaros, the hell of the ancient Greek world, but a hero like Achilles could not be thrown into Tartaros. The Asphodel Meadows are the happy medium between honoring a man who behaves like a barbarian, and punishing a hero.

So, what does all this have to do with my poem? Well, as I mentioned above, the fact that Hektor and Andromache never got a happy ending always upset me. They were a wonderful couple, and devoted parents to their son, Astyanax. But, because they were Trojans and, therefore, 'the enemy' they did not deserve the happy ending afforded to the Greek heroes. So, that is why I wrote the poem, to give them a happy ending. Andromache has been living a life of drudgery since she was taken from Troy, serving the man who killed her son, and the son of the man who killed her husband. By reuniting her with Hektor, who I have placed in Elysion, there is an end to her life of slavery, and a happy ending. She and the husband she loves can now spend eternity together in peace. 

'Elysium' by Unknown Artist. Elysium is the Latinization of

the Greek Elysion.

So, that was the point of my poem, to give the story of Hektor and Andromache a happy ending. I have written short stories where Andromache escapes Neoptolemos, but have never concluded them with her death and reunion with Hektor. I feel that, if anyone deserves a happy ending, it is Hektor and Andromache.

~ Australian Kiwi   

P.S. I've used two images from the 2004 film Troy, but I don't actually like that movie. It was a combination of bad directing, bad scripting, bad acting, and faithlessness to the source. I've seen the first hour or so, but it was so terrible that I had to turn it off. I have no intention of watching the rest of the movie, I have better things to do with my time than watch  bad movies.