Sorry for the hiatus, folks. I was locked in a battle of wills with my internet service provider that took 3 weeks to resolve. So basically all my blogging time was spent on the phone with technical assistance in the Philippines. Good times.
The Friday after I got the boot (for my broken foot)
Steve called and invited me to the fireman's comp the next day, since it was the
closest one to Melbourne left in the season. Mindful of the strong
chastising I had received from my Kzoo gal pals when I looked for a place
to live rather than attending a comp with Steve in December, I said
"OK" despite the fact that I was leaving for Manila in 6 days and the
semester was starting in 2 weeks. Oh, and it was supposed to be in the 90s and I was wearing a moon boot.
I was surprised by how much of a family event a fireman's comp is. The morning is the junior's comp, kids (boys and girls) aged 11-15 doing similar events to the seniors. We arrived in time to catch just the last few junior events. Lots of parents and aunts and uncles around, who stayed on for the seniors events where the dads and uncles and some of the older juniors participated. The kids hang around to watch. The younger firemen's wives and wee babies are there. They make the best sausages on the grill of all time for $3.50 - by far the cheapest meal I've had since moving to Melbourne. (I was telling Mom and Dad they should plan to come for one of these next fall and Dad basically said, "You had me at best brats ever.")
It's basically a bring-a-cooler-(they call them "eskis")-tent-lawnchair-and-stay-all-day activity. I did not bring an eski or a tent; Steve brought me a lawnchair. We did stay all day. By early afternoon, Steve had found me a family with a tent and an eski to hang out with so I could be out of the sun. The dad also had a moon boot. Birds of a feather. The mom had a dog who hated me for the first two hours after we met, but then decided she loved me. "It's because you're so tall when you stand up" the mom informed me.
Early in the day, I was trying to figure out why all the kids had the same numbers on their jerseys. "It's the team number," Steve informed me. Assigned in order from the first brigade formed to the most recent. His team, Drouin/Bunyip is C01 because they were the first combined brigade.
Speaking of teams, here's a list of the brigades that competed. Pronunciations in parentheses if the name isn't said the way I expected. Moe took me most of the day to figure out. (I don't understand where Australians get all the extra vowels.) Teams competing: Narre (Nary) Warren - Moe (Mooey) - Drouin/Bunyip - Pakenham - Hallam - Belgrave - Koo Wee Rup - Dandenong. Whenever I see the word "Dandenong" I hear the voice of the GPS lady, due to our scenic route back from Philip Island when Jean was here. But that's a story for another day. Anyway, I spent most of the day chuckling about team names announced over the loudspeaker.
The senior comp involves a lot of events with ladders, hydrants, hoses, carts and yes, water. It's all quite technical. Here's Steve prepping the hydrant for one of the first senior events while the juniors wrap up their awards ceremony.
"Prepping the hydrant" involves a lot of rubber bands so all the bits
of the hydrant stay arranged just so, which means that whoever is
running with it at full tilt can slide it right into the coupling and
get on with whatever is next... Like turning on the water so that they can shoot a target or two... and spray the passle of kids on the other side of the target. There was a lot of giggling and squealing and splashing as a side event to anything that involved a hose and water. It was hot enough I thought about taking the boot out there for a soak, but decided against it.
Here's Steve doing his best event, the ladder race, which he won. You can watch by following this link:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/lpjq6pn01em4ql5/MVI_1053.MOV
Sorry the video is sideways. I'm sparing you my first attempts where I turned the camera. Trust me that this is the better option. Steve is in the blue, yellow, and maroon for Drouin/Bunyip.
Steve also won the hydrant race, which you can watch by following this link:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/0nr9fjsy7s1gud6/MVI_1057.MOV
if I knew how to edit out the first part and the last part of that, I would have done it!
The next couple are of one of the team events. The videos are the same race but a couple different teams doing it. I can't remember what it's called... but it's fun to watch.
https://www.dropbox.com/s/oowxnooe05fq12d/MVI_1071.MOV
https://www.dropbox.com/s/awgzplbaffybup1/MVI_1072.MOV
https://www.dropbox.com/s/baoaxtkzplhkydh/MVI_1073.MOV
The teams that are really slick can hook and unhook
hoses while the water is coming out full blast. It was pretty amazing.
And I'd also like to thank whoever thought that the uniforms should
include white pants. :)
Observations, thinking, stories and photos from a US expat pracademic living in Australia.
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Saturday, 9 March 2013
Reality Check, Sometime in January 2013
Several weeks ago, like after I moved into my house, but before I got the boot, I was on the sidewalk near home waiting for a tram. I heard a car coming towards the intersection with the 80s classic "Always Something There to Remind Me" blasting on the stereo. I thought, "Sweet!" and turned to look in the car and see what young, hip kid had such a love for the 80s. Behind the wheel sat an overweight, middle aged lady, drinking her coffee while waiting at the stoplight. I thought, "And that's me. Well, @#$%."
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Ripper Weekend, 3 March 13
So yesterday I finally took my bike down the street to the shop to get pedals. Then I walked back to pick it up, and took along my bike shoes so I could ride home. I had the bike guy put a rack on the back, so I velcro-ed the boot to the rack and biked home. (Biking is allowed sans boot, as long as I don't stand up to pedal.) It felt so great that I decided to go for a spin around the park and figure out how to commute to work... and had my first wipeout of the summer because some fool car at a roundabout couldn't decide whether to go or not and some fool biker forgot to unclip from her pedals. I tipped over with both my feet still clipped in. Classy. On the bright side, no damage to my right foot, which is the broken one. I got a little scrape and a goose egg on my left knee. A bit stiff. So I'm hobbling a bit on both sides. I like to keep things balanced. ha.
The evening plan was to meet my friend Lucienne for dinner. We were going to do a bike ride, but my bike spent most of the day in the shop, so she went on her own. Since she was a little later than me getting ready, I agreed to walk over to her house, which is about 700m (1/2 mile) from my house. I figured it would help me get the stiff out after the wipeout. I arrived, she grabbed her keys and we set off for Sydney Road, by mutual agreement that we wouldn't eat again at the Union Hotel, our usual haunt, which is halfway between my house and hers. We turned the corner out of her lot and there on the sidewalk was an entertainment center cabinet. Solid wood. Not quite six feet long, maybe three feet high.
Ever since I moved in, I've been thinking I needed to get out to IKEA and get something to put under the giant TV my landlady left for my use, because the one she left me didn't really seem up to the task. And replacing someone else's giant TV isn't on my to do list.
Now, here, pushed up against the side of a building (code for "free" in Melbourne), was just the solution to my problem. A month ago, Lucienne and I had a similar experience when we encountered a perfectly good desk by the side of the road on a walk. After careful consideration, we left it there because I wasn't sure I needed it. (Those of you familiar with my family will understand how Herculean it was to leave that desk on the street.) This entertainment center, however, was perfect. Except that it was huge, solid wood, we were 700m on city streets from my house, I was wearing a moon boot, and neither of us has a car.
"What do you think?" she said.
"Mmmmmm," I said, and tried to lift it. "Ok, nope, too heavy. Forget it."
And then as I let go, it slid away from the building and began rolling toward the street.
"It has wheels!" we both exclaimed.
"Now?" Lucienne said.
"We can do it!" I said.
So we checked the cupboard ends and took out an old computer monitor, an old printer, and two dog leashes. At that point I was wondering if it was really free for the taking... but we were on a roll, so to speak. All we had to do was push it all the way down to the end of this street (just before the white speck at the very end in the picture) turn the corner, and go another 100 meters to my driveway...
We pushed it toward the driveway of Lucienne's apartment complex and had a bit of a struggle getting off the sidewalk; the cupboard was so long it got hung up a bit. We persevered, and then turned it so we could head across the street. It was going to be tricky because there was quite a bit of traffic and also a hump to get up onto the road. We diddled this way and that, and just as we were getting ready for a big push a voice yells, "You gals need some help?!" Shamelessly abandoning my independent Norwegian roots, I shouted "YES!" And this Australian fellow neither of us had ever seen before came running across the street. As he was crossing the street, I said, "Thanks for the help. I'll buy you a beer."
"I gave up beer for Lent."
"OK, when Easter comes I'll buy you a beer."
"Deal...You're not from around here, are you?"
He proceeded to pick up one end of the giant heavy thing, Lucienne and I on the other, and together we carried it across the busy street, and kept going, meanwhile, chatting about where I'm from, how Lucienne and I met each other, where she's from, where we live, etc.
After about a block I said, puffing a bit, "Are you sure you want to help us with this?"
"How far are you taking it?"
"Pretty far...all the way down past Union Road" (turns out he'd only been in the neighborhood 3 weeks and had no idea what I was talking about.)
"That's all right, no worries."
...Carry and chat a bit. More puffing...
"You're sure this is ok? Weren't you heading somewhere when you saw us?"
"Just going to drop in at my parents'. No worries."
We made it about two blocks, carrying it down the middle the street, me in the boot & boot cut jeans, Lucienne in her cute summer dress, and our hero in shorts and a t-shirt, chatting the whole way, before we girls begged for a rest. (We kept mentioning that it had wheels, but it was like he didn't believe us.)
"You're sure this is ok?"
"Yep."
"You're parents aren't going to worry if you're late because you were hijacked by two girls and a cabinet?"
"I was just dropping in, they didn't know I was coming."
After a rest in the street, we did another lift and carry and got almost to Union Hotel - the halfway point. Lucienne was bearing the brunt of the load because she was the shortest of the three of us. Good thing she's so fit from dragonboat racing. Again, we begged for a rest. This time we made it onto the sidewalk instead of the middle of the street. Lucienne and I were sitting on the entertainment center laughing and chatting it up with our new found friend when he said, "It just occurred to me that I left my car unlocked and running when I saw you needed help." That was 15 minutes and 350 meters ago. "Wait here, I'll be right back." So he took off running back the way we had come.
I wondered aloud, "So, if he's helping me move a free cupboard and his car gets stolen, do I have to buy him a new car?"
"If that's true, this could be the most expensive free cupboard ever," Lucienne said.
"I sure hope his car isn't that nice..."
A minute later he rolled up in a quite nice car, got out and said, "Wow, and I left my phone and laptop just sitting on the seat!" More laughing because a) I didn't have to buy him a car, b) we were a little punchy from carrying the giant cupboard, c) nothing got stolen, and d) we were only halfway to my house.
All three of us eyed the backseat of the car, and came to the conclusion, first independently and then as a group, that the cabinet wouldn't fit. We had some discussion about rocking up to the pub with it and sitting on it to have a beverage before making the rest of the journey. Instead, we persuaded our new friend that we could, in fact, roll it. "Oh, it has wheels!" he said. You can imagine the look Lucienne and I shared.
And so we rolled it the rest of the way, with a bit of lifting to get over intersections, and a brief encounter with an elderly neighborhood resident who stopped to chat us up. We agreed after the fact that she had cupboard envy. "That's really a nice cupboard. Where'd you say you got it?" We made it all the way back to my house with a big lift over the last bit of the gravel garden in front of my house. They helped me move the TV onto it and get the other electronic stuff out of the way.
Once it was all set, our new friend looked at it and said, "That's a rippa!"
"A ripper?"
"Yeah, that cupboard's a rippa!"
"And that's a good thing?"
"Yes! It's great - fits the TV perfectly!"
"I agree!"
I stuck my hand out and said, "Well hi. I'm Amy." He laughed and said, "Joel." Lucienne introduced herself, and then we laughed some more because the dang huge thing was, indeed, a rippa. And we just moved it, by hand, 700 meters through the city, 3/4 of the way actually rolling or carrying it in the street, to my house. All with the help of a stranger who left his car running and jumped out to help the two crazy girls moving a giant cabinet without any idea it was going to take a half an hour.
We headed back towards Joel's car and Lucienne's house and agreed that there would be food, and it would be at the Union Hotel pub because we'd had enough walking. Despite their protests, I bought them both dinner (because, yeah, new cabinet in my house!) and we chatted until almost midnight. Then I took their photo, which I plan to print and display next to the TV on the cabinet.
Turns out Joel is studying to be a priest and is doing the Catholic version of internship at a parish just up the road from our houses. So we know where to find him when Easter comes and he can have a drink.
I went up to his parish today for worship and sat next to a guy, who, before the service was over, was joined by a small person dressed in a full-on Spiderman costume, and visited by another small person dressed in a full-on dinosaur costume, who left his backpack on the pew - I noticed when the dinosaur tail on the backpack bumped my leg. There's something so right about getting to say, "God's Peace, Spidey."
Bike ride and wipeout, followed by two girls, a giant cabinet, a priest, Spiderman, and a dinosaur - this weekend was a ripper. Although I'm not sure that's appropriate use of the idiom...
The evening plan was to meet my friend Lucienne for dinner. We were going to do a bike ride, but my bike spent most of the day in the shop, so she went on her own. Since she was a little later than me getting ready, I agreed to walk over to her house, which is about 700m (1/2 mile) from my house. I figured it would help me get the stiff out after the wipeout. I arrived, she grabbed her keys and we set off for Sydney Road, by mutual agreement that we wouldn't eat again at the Union Hotel, our usual haunt, which is halfway between my house and hers. We turned the corner out of her lot and there on the sidewalk was an entertainment center cabinet. Solid wood. Not quite six feet long, maybe three feet high.
Ever since I moved in, I've been thinking I needed to get out to IKEA and get something to put under the giant TV my landlady left for my use, because the one she left me didn't really seem up to the task. And replacing someone else's giant TV isn't on my to do list.
Now, here, pushed up against the side of a building (code for "free" in Melbourne), was just the solution to my problem. A month ago, Lucienne and I had a similar experience when we encountered a perfectly good desk by the side of the road on a walk. After careful consideration, we left it there because I wasn't sure I needed it. (Those of you familiar with my family will understand how Herculean it was to leave that desk on the street.) This entertainment center, however, was perfect. Except that it was huge, solid wood, we were 700m on city streets from my house, I was wearing a moon boot, and neither of us has a car.
"What do you think?" she said.
"Mmmmmm," I said, and tried to lift it. "Ok, nope, too heavy. Forget it."
And then as I let go, it slid away from the building and began rolling toward the street.
"It has wheels!" we both exclaimed.
"Now?" Lucienne said.
"We can do it!" I said.
So we checked the cupboard ends and took out an old computer monitor, an old printer, and two dog leashes. At that point I was wondering if it was really free for the taking... but we were on a roll, so to speak. All we had to do was push it all the way down to the end of this street (just before the white speck at the very end in the picture) turn the corner, and go another 100 meters to my driveway...
We pushed it toward the driveway of Lucienne's apartment complex and had a bit of a struggle getting off the sidewalk; the cupboard was so long it got hung up a bit. We persevered, and then turned it so we could head across the street. It was going to be tricky because there was quite a bit of traffic and also a hump to get up onto the road. We diddled this way and that, and just as we were getting ready for a big push a voice yells, "You gals need some help?!" Shamelessly abandoning my independent Norwegian roots, I shouted "YES!" And this Australian fellow neither of us had ever seen before came running across the street. As he was crossing the street, I said, "Thanks for the help. I'll buy you a beer."
"I gave up beer for Lent."
"OK, when Easter comes I'll buy you a beer."
"Deal...You're not from around here, are you?"
He proceeded to pick up one end of the giant heavy thing, Lucienne and I on the other, and together we carried it across the busy street, and kept going, meanwhile, chatting about where I'm from, how Lucienne and I met each other, where she's from, where we live, etc.
After about a block I said, puffing a bit, "Are you sure you want to help us with this?"
"How far are you taking it?"
"Pretty far...all the way down past Union Road" (turns out he'd only been in the neighborhood 3 weeks and had no idea what I was talking about.)
"That's all right, no worries."
...Carry and chat a bit. More puffing...
"You're sure this is ok? Weren't you heading somewhere when you saw us?"
"Just going to drop in at my parents'. No worries."
We made it about two blocks, carrying it down the middle the street, me in the boot & boot cut jeans, Lucienne in her cute summer dress, and our hero in shorts and a t-shirt, chatting the whole way, before we girls begged for a rest. (We kept mentioning that it had wheels, but it was like he didn't believe us.)
"You're sure this is ok?"
"Yep."
"You're parents aren't going to worry if you're late because you were hijacked by two girls and a cabinet?"
"I was just dropping in, they didn't know I was coming."
After a rest in the street, we did another lift and carry and got almost to Union Hotel - the halfway point. Lucienne was bearing the brunt of the load because she was the shortest of the three of us. Good thing she's so fit from dragonboat racing. Again, we begged for a rest. This time we made it onto the sidewalk instead of the middle of the street. Lucienne and I were sitting on the entertainment center laughing and chatting it up with our new found friend when he said, "It just occurred to me that I left my car unlocked and running when I saw you needed help." That was 15 minutes and 350 meters ago. "Wait here, I'll be right back." So he took off running back the way we had come.
I wondered aloud, "So, if he's helping me move a free cupboard and his car gets stolen, do I have to buy him a new car?"
"If that's true, this could be the most expensive free cupboard ever," Lucienne said.
"I sure hope his car isn't that nice..."
A minute later he rolled up in a quite nice car, got out and said, "Wow, and I left my phone and laptop just sitting on the seat!" More laughing because a) I didn't have to buy him a car, b) we were a little punchy from carrying the giant cupboard, c) nothing got stolen, and d) we were only halfway to my house.
All three of us eyed the backseat of the car, and came to the conclusion, first independently and then as a group, that the cabinet wouldn't fit. We had some discussion about rocking up to the pub with it and sitting on it to have a beverage before making the rest of the journey. Instead, we persuaded our new friend that we could, in fact, roll it. "Oh, it has wheels!" he said. You can imagine the look Lucienne and I shared.
And so we rolled it the rest of the way, with a bit of lifting to get over intersections, and a brief encounter with an elderly neighborhood resident who stopped to chat us up. We agreed after the fact that she had cupboard envy. "That's really a nice cupboard. Where'd you say you got it?" We made it all the way back to my house with a big lift over the last bit of the gravel garden in front of my house. They helped me move the TV onto it and get the other electronic stuff out of the way.
Once it was all set, our new friend looked at it and said, "That's a rippa!"
"A ripper?"
"Yeah, that cupboard's a rippa!"
"And that's a good thing?"
"Yes! It's great - fits the TV perfectly!"
"I agree!"
I stuck my hand out and said, "Well hi. I'm Amy." He laughed and said, "Joel." Lucienne introduced herself, and then we laughed some more because the dang huge thing was, indeed, a rippa. And we just moved it, by hand, 700 meters through the city, 3/4 of the way actually rolling or carrying it in the street, to my house. All with the help of a stranger who left his car running and jumped out to help the two crazy girls moving a giant cabinet without any idea it was going to take a half an hour.
We headed back towards Joel's car and Lucienne's house and agreed that there would be food, and it would be at the Union Hotel pub because we'd had enough walking. Despite their protests, I bought them both dinner (because, yeah, new cabinet in my house!) and we chatted until almost midnight. Then I took their photo, which I plan to print and display next to the TV on the cabinet.
Turns out Joel is studying to be a priest and is doing the Catholic version of internship at a parish just up the road from our houses. So we know where to find him when Easter comes and he can have a drink.
I went up to his parish today for worship and sat next to a guy, who, before the service was over, was joined by a small person dressed in a full-on Spiderman costume, and visited by another small person dressed in a full-on dinosaur costume, who left his backpack on the pew - I noticed when the dinosaur tail on the backpack bumped my leg. There's something so right about getting to say, "God's Peace, Spidey."
Bike ride and wipeout, followed by two girls, a giant cabinet, a priest, Spiderman, and a dinosaur - this weekend was a ripper. Although I'm not sure that's appropriate use of the idiom...
Friday, 1 March 2013
You had me at... Dec 12
Back in December and then again for a bit in January I stayed with Steve, an airbnb host - the one who lives in the fancy hotel. Steve is a fireman. Here in Victoria, the volunteer firemen have competitions, or “comps” as Australians call them. Steve is part of a comp
brigade, so Saturdays he goes off to a comp all day, unless there's a brush fire in the area and they have to put it out. The comps run all summer
– that is, November through March.
In my early conversations with Steve about the comps, they struck me a bit like a lumberjack tournament but with fire-fighter
specific tasks. So instead of climbing trees with spiky cleats, they climb
ladders. Instead of running on top of logs in water, they run carrying hydrants. I don't know if anyone makes a chair out of a log with a fire axe, but you
get the idea. Here's a video I found on YouTube that explains a bit more about it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unSu4Q1xt-s
Like any respectable sporting series, there are
specific comps where the points add up to an overall season championship, and
there are comps that get you into the Victorian State Championships. Not every
firefighter is part of a competition brigade because it takes quite a lot of time.
They practice 4 hours every Wednesday night and then travel to comps all over
Victoria on weekends. “It’s good for your fitness,” Steve said. And since I’ve
never seen him take the stairs any way but 3 at a time without getting winded,
I’d say it’s true.
Sometime in December, after a
30 minute discussion about it, including an invite to come and watch some weekend, Steve said to me, “Have I sold you on it yet?”
My response, “You had me at ‘firemen.’”
My response, “You had me at ‘firemen.’”
Now that's a big foot, 6 Feb 13
So on the 5th I got an MRI and they gave me the films to take to the doctor. This was after I overheard the receptionist having a long conversation with the patient ahead of me about why they wouldn't give him his MRI films. I'm pretty sure neither party got what they wanted out of that conversation, so I was sort of surprised when they handed me a giant envelope with my MRI images. Which they also emailed to Dr. Castricum. Just in case of a technology fail, I hauled those films home and back again to his office the next day. Completely unnecessary, and mildly aggravating since the films were many, and heavy, and, as I've mentioned, his office is in the black hole of Melbourne Public Transport, which is particularly annoying for a girl with a bad foot.
Dr. Castricum turned off the lights and took me for a spin through the films. Xrays are cool, but MRI film is AMAZING. "Do you ever get tired of looking at this stuff?" I asked. "It's so cool!"
"I don't. It is really cool."
The verdict: Stress fracture. The solution: Boot for 2 weeks then weaning off it for a couple more. No running. No biking (fine, since my long awaited bike didn't have pedals anyway). He wrote me a prescription for the boot, and then sent me off to a small office in the next suburb over where I could get one.
"How far is this place?" I asked the receptionist.
"Not far," she said. "Maybe five minutes."
"By car?"
"Yes."
I love that the "not far" answer is always about how far something is by car. So I got out my trusty map on the phone and walked 25 minutes to the boot house. It basically looked like a counseling office - a little store front shop with a waiting room, and patients disappearing and reappearing from the back. A guy on crutches and his wife were there, he got a cast. A kid and his mom were there, the kid got one of those stiff, molded, wrist braces. Then the tall, lanky, cast maker who looked a bit like Lurch came for me. I sat down in his chair in the back, he read the prescription, had me take off my sandal and said, "Now that's a big foot." I managed not to comment, but it was difficult.
My reward: a one-month rental of a cam walker, plus my very own inflatable liner, just in time for the hottest streak of weather since I moved to Melbourne and a trip to Manila to spend time at the Australian Embassy. Nothing completes the government-job-business-suit look like a moon boot.
Dr. Castricum turned off the lights and took me for a spin through the films. Xrays are cool, but MRI film is AMAZING. "Do you ever get tired of looking at this stuff?" I asked. "It's so cool!"
"I don't. It is really cool."
The verdict: Stress fracture. The solution: Boot for 2 weeks then weaning off it for a couple more. No running. No biking (fine, since my long awaited bike didn't have pedals anyway). He wrote me a prescription for the boot, and then sent me off to a small office in the next suburb over where I could get one.
"How far is this place?" I asked the receptionist.
"Not far," she said. "Maybe five minutes."
"By car?"
"Yes."
I love that the "not far" answer is always about how far something is by car. So I got out my trusty map on the phone and walked 25 minutes to the boot house. It basically looked like a counseling office - a little store front shop with a waiting room, and patients disappearing and reappearing from the back. A guy on crutches and his wife were there, he got a cast. A kid and his mom were there, the kid got one of those stiff, molded, wrist braces. Then the tall, lanky, cast maker who looked a bit like Lurch came for me. I sat down in his chair in the back, he read the prescription, had me take off my sandal and said, "Now that's a big foot." I managed not to comment, but it was difficult.
My reward: a one-month rental of a cam walker, plus my very own inflatable liner, just in time for the hottest streak of weather since I moved to Melbourne and a trip to Manila to spend time at the Australian Embassy. Nothing completes the government-job-business-suit look like a moon boot.
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