Kalgoorlie

Kalgoorlie is a famous mining town about 500km north-east of Perth. It's known for its Super Pit mine that gapes right on the edges of town. It got its name from the word karlpurla, which means place of the silky pears, plants native to Australia.

I fly there often because it's on the way to the areas that my company covers. It's not a regular mining town, because it's grown so much and thus turned into a proper town. Nevertheless, it's not a place I'd want to hang around for long. Too busy for a town, too expensive for a non-metropolitan area and in general a place you get to or leave from.

Since I seem to have landed/taken off at night, I haven't actually seen the mine from above before until yesterday. That's why I decided to write something about the place.

Being that it's located in the desert, the rainfall is minimal. It was therefore important to get water to the ever-more-rapidly spreading town. It was founded during the gold rush at the end of the 19th century and a very expensive project for that time was proposed - a pipeline which would connect Kal to Perth.

I heard a story about the pipeline being finished and a big inauguration being held in Kal. All the public and the newspapers and the locals were there when they opened the pipeline, but no water came out. Charles Yelverton O'Connor was the one to make John Forrest's project reality. I was told he committed suicide when he realized the project was a failure.

The history writes a different story. Under the constant pressure and criticism, O'Connor committed suicide by shooting himself while riding his horse into the sea in Fremantle, where he constructed the famous harbour.

The pipeline project supposedly took place about a year after he committed suicide and it still enables the 25,000 people to lead their lives up in Kal.

Kalgoorlie's Super Pit
(Photo taken from the Internet)

Flying and all that comes with it

Today's rant goes to all the retards who think they're above us, the common folk, who actually switch off their electronics when the seat belt sign is on.

a. It happens for a reason.
3. After three announcements, you don't snap back at the flight attendant and talk back like you're fricken twelve.
d. Be ashamed of yourself. The same amount of times you'd been warned.

No, you're not special. No, it's not all about you. No, you're not the only one who has kids. Geez!

Tsk tsk tsk...

A lovely little photo for an obnoxiously big (lady)jerk

Gray

Finding the first gray hair is pretty much depressing all over.

I knew I had it coming, but I didn't expect them so soon. So by the time I was twenty-five, I had more of them than my older brother did.

Then you find one in your beard.

And note that I don't actually have a beard. I'm incapable of growing one. It's just this annoying stuff growing out of my face. I can't grow a proper one, but if I don't shave it I look like a dweeb.

Not tolerable.

Then you find one coming out of your nose. You pluck it out (because they're unnaturally long) and hope it will never come back.

And the other day I scratch my ear and experience pain. I caught a hair in between my fingers and pinched it. Geez.

I'm not getting old. I am old.

(No photo.)

Preface

Every time people from one culture look at people from another, they need to remember that, sometimes, this is not easy to do.

It is because, as we grow up in our own cultural spaces, we learn singular ways of looking at and thinking about the world without even knowing it, and it means that there are as many ways of looking at life as there are people and cultures. In this context, we also need to remember that all cultures think equally well, they just think differently. It makes it hard to appreciate the difference if we don't acknowledge at the beginning that it's there.

Sometimes it is important to try to see how the process of our looking actually takes place, and this is also a fair question for the people we look at to ask of us. It is often very interesting to see these processes and relationships between people as they actually are.

From Fighting for Survival - The Ngaanyatjarra of the Gibson Desert by Liz Thompson

John Forrest National Park

H, G and I went to the John Forrest National Park today, some 35 kilometres north-east of Perth.

It's a place of pristine nature, with a feeling that gives you the chills. Ancient trees, giant boulders, an abundance of various species of plants, freshly emerged wild flowers, parrots screeching from the treetops, kangaroos peeking from the bushes only a couple of meters away, waterfalls...

It's just magical! And as pictures speak better than words, here you go...
(Look closely for extras...)

Just a Sunday morning blurb

Since I moved away, I've been getting more and more feedback from people. And I mean people back in Croatia. How I am, how I was, how I act, how I acted...

I was looking for something in my Inbox and ran into some old e-mails, which reminded me of that.

Australians are quite blunt and they'll openly point out that they think you're weird. Or you're doing something weird. Or both.

Sometimes you'll just get a full feedback in the third sentence they utter. One has to admire that.

The people back in Croatia seem to have, in a matter of speaking, opened up. Maybe it's easier to reveal their thoughts in an e-mail than it must've been in person, but I'm glad to hear it. Even though it's not always necessarily leaving me with with a nice feeling, I still respect the idea behind it.

Therefore, hugs to those who recognize themselves in this post! ;)

Sometimes I just wish I was aware of all that when I was there. I worked on it, but I was pretty much a failure (you should've seen me before, when I was even less aware, brrr...). But later I guess I was trying to make the best out of it, so I would simply choose to ignore all the not-so-good stuff in the background, regarding both others and me, and focused on the good.

And, now that I think of it, all that stuff didn't really matter anyway. Maybe it's just easier to let go now.

Out of sight, out of mind? Perhaps. But it's definitely much more interesting.

Life Snapshots

The improvised book shelf,
the sunlit shades and
the palm tree,
which I'm actually not allowed to have in my apartment,
as it's likely to
"leave markings on the furniture"...

Snow

You wouldn't expect this when you think of Oz, would you? ^^

Attitude

I admire people who speak their mind. Or maybe not admire. I think they just have it easier.

I had a lot of problems because of my big mouth. But I always had respect for the people.

If they were wrong, I would try to point it out and explain my stand. If it went out of hand, I would try to straighten it out.

Successfully or not, because I tend to lack subtlety. I'm not easy to handle, so I try to keep that in mind. It kind of gives me an edge.

But not everyone's like that.

Ignorance is a bitch. When someone is unobservant, they'll stomp over anything and anyone. They just want to prove their point. And they'll trample over whatever's in the way.

And as good as we can be, that can just be too hard to handle.

So maybe not admire. They just have it easier.

If you can go berserk about something and lose your nerves and go crazy about it all, and then just wave your hand and barely remember what happened, I don't know what you think. And how you function.

And whether I can trust you...

Today's gift to myself

Small things make me happy
haiku-themed refrigerator
magnets are today's.

Sunday

Well, today was fruitful.

I probably won't feel my fingers and upper body tomorrow. Or it might be even worse and I'll feel it all!

Indoor climbing is a lot of fun. I liked it when I first saw it, about fifteen years ago. I've been planning to start doing it as long, so I finally did it.

There's something in hanging on a bit of rope and depending on someone else, as well as your strength, precision and observation alone. It's a weird, yet liberating feeling. Or maybe I'm just excited by the fact I finally got to do it...

Oh, I'll have to clean my whole apartment next week (got inspection, tini-nini), so I'll finally take some new photos of my squalor and post them.

Here's a photo of another liberating thing I've done today!

Less on my head, more in the bin

Glasses

If you wear glasses, you're well aware of the fact that it's both the best and the worst thin leaving them on your night stand.

As I was waking up this morning - and it took me three snoozes - I turned around and noticed something on my otherwise completely white wall.

Being that I didn't have my glasses on, in my head it could've been anything from a mosquito to a condor. Paranoid up by all the hard-working poisonous-animals-in-Oz information providers (and completely leaving behind my First Aid course), I jumped up, got my glasses and threw the unidenified cockroachal menace out through the window.

Now I'm wondering how it got there in the first place (since there's only one unscreened window in the apartment) and whether he has a family. :scary music:

Trance

It's moments like these that make me miss being back in Croatia. Trance music, incense sticks, a couple of beers, and a smile on my face. Why does it have to be so far...

:yawn:

I’m sitting at my desk looking at the screen. I’m not sure how long my head can keep staying up. I try working out how to unnoticeably rest my eyelids on the top rim of my glasses, since I don’t see a way for them to stay open otherwise.

I slept in today. I must’ve hit the snooze button a dozen times. And even though I don’t remember what the dream I was having was about, it must’ve been something to hold on to.

The coffee mug seems to be kilometers away. See me straining to reach it?

Door knob

The media like to keep you paranoid. All the news, warnings and testimonies are made to make you worried. Paranoid. Scared.

I felt uneasy on my way from work. Even though I moved thirteen thousand kilometres from the bad neighbourhood I lived in, the idea of a loud, drunk bunch walking behind me simply makes me twitch.

Especially after being bombarded by all the incidents seen on the TV, I start getting the feeling that someone's after me. I was glad to catch the green light and leave the guys behind me. It's just annoying.

So I'm walking to my apartment, thinking about why this happens, why we get like this, and why I keep reacting. I tell myself it's a defence mechanism - one of those that keeps the humanity going.

Yeah, let's go with that.

I enter the courtyard and check out the mailbox, but there's nothing there but junk mail. It seems like the postmen mind the no junk mail sign as much as the people seem to mind common sense.

So I climb the stairs and realize my front door is open. The screen door is closed, but the door is open. The whole paranoia film whooshes back and I'm standing there like an idiot, holding the plastic bag of fruit and veggies I'd bought, and I see dozens of scenes from all the movies I've ever seen that has to do with break ins.

It crosses my mind that the boomerang I got last week would be a good thing to have in my hands. The unlucky thing is it's right on the opposite side of the apartment, mounted on the wall. I peek behind the crack in the doors and, taught by numerous Hollywood movies, check if there's someone behind the door.

I drop the bag of goodies on the ground, since it's not going to help me anyway. I call my friend because it would be wise to have someone on the line in case I get, well, smacked on the head with a frying pan. No one's answering, so I just go in. I open all the rooms, check behind the doors and cover corner by corner, worried that someone might've just broken in as I was coming home.

I was just retarded. As I was leaving the flat this morning, I tried turning the knob, but I didn't try opening the door. The lock obviously didn't click well enough and the draft opened up the door sometime during the day.

I can only be lucky that there's only one other apartment at the top of the stairs and no one went straight for it.

I hate Australian door knobs.

Grrr, door knob, grrr!

Coffee/Tea

The only thing seemingly worse than a Monday at work is a Tuesday at work. Especially after a long weekend.

After all the coffees I've had, I switched to black Darjeeling tea. And considering the fact that it's the kind you need to drain as well, it seems like I drink half and eat half.

I feel my head tingling and I haven't even finished my second cup. Looks like I won't be falling asleep until Friday.

Sleep is overrated anyway, right?

Field work photos

I'm allowed to take photos on rare occasions when I'm out in the field. Either the people are too shy or the area is culturally too sensitive.

And even rarer do I have some photos of myself. So feast your eyes on Dorkster, Nooby Dorkster.





I also have a photo of me with dead kangaroos (as the locals were hunting), but I'll leave those out for the sake of digestion-ally challenged (even though it's a completely normal thing here, and a part of everyday life)...

Weather

Why are people so obsessed with weather?

It’s either too cold or too hot or too sunny, or it was too hot or too cold or too sunny. Sometimes it’s weather circumstances that have not yet come to pass (I have waited for so long to use that classical Lord of the Rings phrase), so it’s going to get too cold or too hot or too sunny.

Is that really the only thing we can talk about?

I remember one of the first lessons in my English class, when they mentioned how all English people discuss the weather as part of the daily chit chat.

But on another note (and in no connection to this topic whatsoever), I'll try to go around the mentioned fact and only mention (not rant) about the fact that spring has just started here and it's already 34 here today. Yesterday was nice and sunny - a perfect day for a picnic - while today might be a perfect day for the beach.

It's still think the water is a bit cold. And the sharks are a bit too big.

Spring in the city...