Let the planning begin!

My annual leave is getting closer, and it's almost a month away from now. Thirty-two days, to be exact.

I've already started planning what to do over the Croatian summer. Well, my friends have, since it's a bit harder for me to plan from so far away. Luckily, I have people around me who are equally eager, so I'm sure it'll be fun.

I still have tons to do. There are lots of small projects I need to wrap up before I go, but I also need to pre-plan some for September, when I start work again.

I'll also have to have my living room ceiling changed while I'm away, which means moving everything from the room while packing, preparing, sorting stuff out etc. It will be an interesting couple of weeks, especially since I only have a certain amount of time in between finishing work and leaving to the airport. It's plenty, of course, but the weeks before that day will be busy busy busy.

This makes it a bit easier.

A busy weekend

Compared to me usually being quite lazy on weekends, this one was super busy.

Went to a concert on Friday, got shitfaced and hungover, went out for a burger on Saturday, chilled out, cooked lunch and then went to a housewarming party on Sunday, went out for lunch with A today, as it's Westralia day and we didn't go to work...

Not that I didn't do any work today, but I didn't go to the office.

Plus I kind of like and cherish the peace and quite of my home, so I'll enjoy it a bit longer before I go to bed...

Birthday snapshots

The fridge is filled up all right

My first batch of home-made hummus

And it's done!

Chopping up chives

My summery salad: cottage cheese, sour cream, garlic, cucumber, salt, pepper, chives, a pinch of red paprika - refreshing and tasty!

More yummy alcoholic presies - gotta love it!

Enough wine?

Re-growing spring onion after I chopped up the green parts into the salad

A long weekend

Being that tomorrow is Queen's Birthday, which is a national holiday in Western Australia, and it's been a sunny day, the amount of people hanging around Kings Park was insane.

Australians usually go berserk when there's a sunny day and they go out, have a barbie or a picnic, go fishing or simply enjoy a walk through the park or along the river. You could see eager swimmers on the first sunny days of spring, even though the water is not that warm quite yet.

H & G invited me to join them for a picnic in Kings Park, so I joined them and some other friends for a sunny Sunday arvo. There's a wild flower festival taking place in Kings Park at the moment, but it's also a botanical garden at the same time, and a very popular chill out place for all Perthlings.

It was really lovely and, even though I was late and pretty much unprepared, we had a nice picnic, a bit of a chat and a couple of beers. There was tons of people, people playing frisbee and parents walking their kids. We took a spot just by the edge of the park, so it was a bit quieter and cosier. A blanket, some cheese and olives, Brazilian mango paste and some weird fruit... It was a feast!

There were parrots dropping by for a nibble of it all, shamelessly circling our blanket and eyeing us from the branches above. It was lovely and sunny and cosy and perfect for rolling around the grass barefoot.

Life updated

I’ve wanted to write a lot, but I just haven’t had the time. There always seem to be more pressing matters - whether they indeed are more pressing or not.

Maybe it’s a good thing that I don’t let the time run me over, so I hope you don’t mind me skipping a post here and there.  Sometimes it’s more important to get some sleep, prepare a nice dinner or simply chill out with no stuff on one’s mind.

Life’s been really busy with every passing day and with every new segment of work and life I’ve been involved in. Much more paperwork, many more meetings and dozens of e-mails I get to be CC-ed in make me have to try to get my head around things. I usually do that by taking notes, but when I got to five notebooks at the same time, the point was kind of lost.

Check notebook one for info about the details from the notebook three. Right.

I’ve also been travelling and out in the field a lot lately. Even though I’ve only been to two field surveys, I’m starting to do more and more. I’m actually supposed to lead the next one, which was confirmed for the next week just today. That means I’ll be flying out next Monday again, and flying back on Friday – right in time for the Australian Football League Grand Final.

A large part of your regular Australian’s social life spins around sports, especially football (the Australian kind) and, to a lesser extent, cricket. Soccer is also really in, but it takes a bit of insanity to wake up at four in the night to watch the English league.

I digress. I just use it as a chance to hang out with people, have a couple of laughs and, finally, trying to work out the rules. But considering that I managed the Cricket World Cup in India, I reckon this will be a piece of chocolate cake.

The thing that needs a lot more focus is located outside the city. Being in the desert is not as hard as it sounds, but dealing with people in their own environment, among their own kin and on their land is something that needs mastering.

People have been asking me how it is working with the Aborigines, sleeping out in the open and dealing with everything the desert brings. To tell you the truth, it’s not that different from what I experienced in India – people sitting in a circle on the ground, sipping tea and cracking jokes.

It gets a bit different once you get included into the stuff that’s going on, their personal issues, intra- and inter-community relationships and alike. That’s where your social, negotiation and human skills are supposed to surface. And not even decades of experiences can prepare you for that.

It’s definitely going to take some time to adjust to going out there on a regular basis, spending long (and I mean looong) days out in the bush, and communicating, co-existing and living with these guys day after day.

Most of the things going on are culturally sensitive and often related to a certain gender only. That means that the topic needs to be dealt with in a certain way, respecting the customs, the elders and everyone in general. It’s definitely a special feeling going to places that not even some Aborigines can go to, but it carries a lot of responsibility with it as well.

I just hope I can fill in the boots.

Other than that, I’ve just been trying to take it easy, not respond to all the stress piling up (Australians are luckily the type of people who take it all easy), and enjoy the free time I’ve got on my hands.

I joined H & G for a walk yesterday, and it was lovely. It was sunny and nice and there was a cool breeze that kept it all nicely wrapped up. We went for a round of the Waterfront, grabbed a couple of beers and caught up after a couple of busy weeks that everyone’s had.

 Hm, so may of my posts end up being I-posts, which I’m trying to avoid. It’s just hard to write about stuff that’s going on without starting a sentence with I. Or without writing in the third person, which might be an even worse solution.

I will try to write in more detail though, kind of more on a story side than diary style. So we’ll see how that goes…

For now, here's a couple of photos from yesterday arvo down by the Swan river waterfront...

And last but not the least, the tired, beer craving me, having a drink at the Waterfront.

Day Three

I've already had my ass kicked for not updating my blog, but there's a good and valid reason.


The first day after I woke up, I tried plugging in my computer to update you guys a bit and everything was OK until I realized there was no WiFi. Being that I had already managed to e-mail H, I really couldn't figure out what the problem was. In the end the electrician checked it out and realized the whole house had a dead fuse, so it didn't have anything to do with me in the end.


We finally got it fixed now and I had to spit 34 bucks for converters, but I can finally plug my comp in normally.


Today was spent with A, who I met up with at Perth train station after I went to a new shop opening in North Perth with H and G.

This is not at work, but some of the people are from the office in fact

We went for a walk around Kings Park, which is a huge green area and where there's a magnificent view of Perth CBD (Central Business District). Later on we went to Fremantle, which is a city south of Perth that possesses a more of a hippy, relaxed vibe and is filled with cafés and restaurants.

Perth CBD

Kings Park

We had lunch and a beer, and then a coffee; I met her husband R and we talked a bit about Australia, a bit about Croatia and a bit about Peru. All in all, a lot of fun and so awesome to see my old, dear friend (disclaimer: by old I mean from a long time ago, not her being old...).

Mozzarella-filled fried things with tomato sauce (AUD 14.90)

Now I'm home, chilling out and skyping, and posting this...


More to come...

Coastal weekend

Being that I'm taking off really soon and that I haven't managed to hang out with some people properly, my friends Z and P invited me to go to Life Celebration Festival with them and their one-year-old son P.


The festival's being held at Fort Punta Christo, an awesome abandoned fort outside of Pula, Croatia, which has been used for all sorts of parties, festivals, camping sites and so on. It's a really nice and interesting place located on the top of a peninsula, surrounded by rocky beaches, pine forests and lonesome lighthouses.


We were camping and chilling most of the time (especially because of little P), so we'd only drop by the floors that played music from time to time. It was rather hot during the day, so we'd go down to the beach, swim a bit to cool down, and simply chilled in the shade.


Another friend, G, took a crazy ride from down south (it took him about twelve hours by boat, several buses and a car), but he made it in the end, at least for a night of partying.


On the way back we stopped at a place famous for its sea food and had a yummy lunch at the bottom of an old staircase. Here's a photo from around there. And being that this really sounds like a dear-diary post, I'll just leave.





Love you, guys!

Flooded

Last night, as I was going through some photos and trying to decide what to pack, what to throw into the trash and what to leave behind, all of a sudden I was struck by emotions.


Maybe I wasn't expecting it, or I was hoping it to hit me later on, but it's happened. I was talking to my mum and she asked me who I was meeting (as I was heading out). Probably caused by her question (which was, by the way, dangerously lingering between annoying and nosy), images of those people started rushing through my head.


And before I could figure out what was going on and get my grip, I was flushed with memories, images, funny stories, emotions and what not. And for the first time, there was a hot potato - not in my hands, but in my throat.


I'm starting to wonder why goodbyes are so hard. Why does everything get changed all of a sudden? How come all those kilometres all of a sudden make a difference?


I know they do, don't get me wrong. But the date seems to influence emotions much more than the kilometres. As the date's getting closer, everyone's more sensitive than the other. Emotions swell up, memories keep popping up and it's all a lot more messy.


Who knows how it'll end. Maybe I'll be weeping for my country, for the nation that annoys me, for the transportation that can make everyone go berserk. Maybe I'll miss avoiding eye contact in the tram, or crossing the street, trying not to get run over.


I'm completely clueless.

The Coast

Well, guys, I'm off to the Adriatic!


Since everyone's gotten super paranoid about me leaving, some off my friends too some time off work and they're taking me to the coast. (In fact, they had to take the time off to use the vacation days and I'm tagging along, but let's stick to the first story...)


I shouldn't be back until the end of next week, but I might write up some post drafts and publish them once I'm back to civilization.


Leder[hosen]!

Photo of the house we're staying in (from last summer)

Gotta love Skype

I'm chatting to my friends as we speak. More like talking. Finally, more like living...


My best friend Ante, who's moved to Austria, his boyfriend Damir and Anita, who's in between work in the Seychelles and a yet unknown location. They're all in Austria, while I'm at home, sipping beer (more like pouring it down), while they're indeed sipping a one-and-a-half-litre bottle of white wine.


We're planning out next vacation together, looking for flights, taking photos and laughing our asses off. All over again.


Gotta love Skype.


Although it makes me realize all the things I'll be missing...

I'm the one 'holding the horns'...

Dinner at Sandra's

Sandra's one of my only friends in the neighbourhood.


I've never really liked it nor the people, probably because of being picked at a lot during my childhood. And when you're surrounded with a bunch of morons living in picket fences, it's not unnatural to keep being picked at even after your childhood. All in all, I don't really like the hood, I don't like the people, I don't like the mentality and I'm pretty much looking forward to leaving this place and coming back as a visitor only.


My best friend Ante moved abroad more than a year ago, so I've basically been stuck here on my own, especially on the not so rare occasions Sandra would spend her time working, away, with her boyfriend or whatever else. No wonder I've chosen the path of lonesome book reading, documentary watching and night jogging (which I'm too lazy for nowadays).


So, Sandra's my only friend in the neighbourhood.


Don't get me wrong. There's some people I hang out with, have coffee on the weekend or take late night walks with, but I've knows Sandra for years and Ante since we were four or so. There's not much one can do in order to make up for that. And now since I'm moving to Australia, I would like to use as much time as I can with my friends and I'm guessing Sandra had the same feeling, so she invited me for dinner.


Her sister is an awesome cook, so they'll try Jamie Oliver's spinach-cheese pie together. They also added a zucchini soup and lettuce, chicory and rucola salad. I, being that I caught a cold, started off with a mint-thyme tea and a home-made walnut schnapps. I have to admit it was a really nice mixture of flavours, pleasantly spicy (rosemary, pine and muscat nuts, chilli etc.) and surprising at times.


Being that it's my birthday on Friday - and there was another friend whose birthday is on the same day the girls made some muffins as well and put a candle on it. Sweet, my first birthday cake.


I have to say I had a lot of fun! The back of my head started hurting from all the laughing, we were listening to the radio station that kept popping up hits we joked around at and I can only hope I'll spend many more evening like this one.

Preparations

Three kinds of muffins (also for the doggy bag)

Don't mind the number - it's the only one they could find

Yummy!

Multiblogging

I have kind of mistreated this blog by writing more and more on my Croatian one, but that might change.


I initially started writing in English during my travels and then somehow kept it going that way. Probably because of a lot of my friends who live abroad and who I speak English with, but also because (truth be told) most of the people speak it anyway.


Some are too shy to leave comments or take the step of writing their own thoughts, but it's an exercise for me, especially now when I have to focus on my English skills even more.


The reason I started writing a bit more in Croatian is that barely visible line, so thin between the language and yet fiording (I just made that up) a giant gap between expressions.


Sometimes I just miss the little phrases I'm used to. Naturally, some phrases are just untranslatable. The swear words can't be respectively mirrored. Sometimes fuck just doesn't cut it.


And being that I'm supposed to move to Australia within the next couple of months, I started thinking that I should probably keep a thorough blog about it. Who knows, someone might even use the information.


On the other hand, I don't want to make a boring blog that deals with the immigration process and initial resident issues. I'd like to keep it simple and, as much as possible, fun to read. Well, at least not boring.


Then there's the problem of the readership - again. Who'll read the English blog? My family certainly won't. (Now that I think of it, I probably don't want them to read it either.)


As you can see, I can't really seem to make up my mind, but it'll probably end up being one blog I'll try to update as regularly as I can, but I'll add links to the other ones, just for the possibility that someone maybe wants to go back in time and read what I've been ranting about.


So, there you go - another pointless post. 1:0 for me.

Thursday night out

Last night was alright. I spent it with some friends I don't get to see that often. We hung around at the ex-squat, which has been turned into an autonomous cultural center, where I was invited to play a chill set. So I met up with Cloud, had a beer and went inside the maze of rooms and halls.

There's a big opening in the wall, slightly but noticeably bigger than a regular door. The sliding doors were open, but I still couldn't see inside, since it was covered with a big black cloth. I move the cloth away and suddenly I'm feeling like I've just stepped from the Witch's Closet into Narnia.

It's a rather small space, much smaller than the rest of those in the squat, but it's way larger than anyone's living room. Compared to the rest of the squat (which was at this time insanely clean, shiny and awkwardly scented), this room really does look like someone's flat. A bit like mine, in fact.

Considering the vast size of the space, it still looks way-too-obviously crammed with stuff. It's like someone had to move suddenly and just dumped all this here. But it certainly has the at-home feeling to it.

There's a couple of armchairs, two big couches and some chairs to fill in the space. Some bean bags have also been left lying around for whoever needs to squeeze in. There are ― from what I can count ― seven or so computers which the guys use to surf, play games or mix music. They're Linux people after all. But mainly psychedelic.

There's three pieces of string art illuminated by a couple of black-light lamps lying half hidden around the room. It barely gives you an idea of the space around you, but the bright-lit threads serve as a form of lighting nevertheless.

There's an L-shaped bookshelf in the corner and a small kitchen squeezed into the corner right opposite. There's a mocca maker on the cooker which reminds me of India. Change subject.

I look around the room trying to absorb whatever I can catch glimpses of in the half dark. I see a poster of Patrick Swayze and some penguin drawings on the wall. I notice Cloud is also looking around, as if she's trying to vectorize the whole area in order to be able to get out of it when the time comes.

So we sit there, drink beer and wine and spirit, chain smoke cigarettes and it's all fuzzy and nice and warm and we're thrilled not to have to be hanging out outside. Or in bars, which are overcrowded anyway. I'm playing some music, but the mixer is broken, so I can't really hear what I'd like to play next. I just put my headphones back in the backpack and played spontaneously. It was a new experience and the feedback was okay. From all those nine or so people that were there.

So, after six hours ― which felt like two and a half ― we head off home. They guys came by car, but since I live so far they call it Mongolia, I usually just thank myself for the offered ride and hit the tram station. It's okay outside and not that cold really. Besides, I could use some fresh air.

I'm standing at the tram stop and checking out what's going around. It's late Thursday (or better said, early Friday), so there's not many people out. On the opposite side of the street is a punk, trying hard to hold on to her Taft-secured coiffed styling, roll a cigarette and keep as less possible surface of her bottom on the cold pavement as possible.

I think I giggled a little, but I couldn't hear it due to the loud trance music coming of out my headphones. My night tram isn't coming for another twenty minutes, so I take another one that comes after only a couple of minutes, simply to cut the journey into smaller pieces. Not the ride home ― journey.

Night trams during colder times aren't what you'd call my favourite thing, since they're most often full of drunkards using the opportunity to warm up a bit. But it being a Thursday and all, I manage to take a seat. Diagonally from me, there are three girls sitting and one standing up, holding on to the one who's squeezed in the middle. Not really holding on; more like patting her on the back, since she seems completely spaced out. There's a handkerchief by her feet on the floor, so I figure she'd already vomited and her girlfriends tried to cover it up. Well, ain't that sweet...

They're all wearing black except one, who's got brown leather boots. She's the one who looks the most scared of them all, maybe because she's trying to figure out how to get her friend home and trying to convince herself that everything will be okay. I think to myself that I might ask them if they need some help (since heaven knows I've been the one who's spaced out oh so many times), but I see a series of images in my head ― like in Guy Richie's films, you know ― and I retreat. I reckon I'd seem like a total perv anyway.

The patter seems to be the most confident and I figure she's going to work it all out. I get out at a stop, hoping that I've hit the right one. Cloud got me some kind of a pastry earlier, so I nibble on it and cross the block to get to my tram stop. I zip up my jacket, but it's not really that cold in fact. I roll another cigarette and it seems like it's the five-hundredth that evening. I don't care, since a track by Ocelot is playing and I feel like dancing.

I often start moving waiting to cross the street or at the bus stop, so I often get looks, but I don't really care. So many people are crazy in this city anyway and I assure myself (and you) that I'm probably one of the less creepy ones you can run into. There's some more people coming to the tram stop; three girls and a guy. One of them is also completely wasted and I can see her make up all smeared up from meters away. I wear specs, so that distance is worth mentioning.

She sits down on the bench with her head in her lap and the whole bunch seem to be talking to her in shifts. She starts yelling, so they take a step back and the guy walks away, clearly pissed off. One of the more-or-less sober girls follows him and the other one is blankly standing in front of the messed-up Witch of the East. And she's not happy about it. She's checking her watch every now and then. Eyeing me eyeing her. I pretend to look in the distance. And I squint ― that's my distant look.

I have no idea what's going on actually, since there's some out-of-this-world Norwegian forest sound wrecking my ear drums and I don't really care. I'm having my cigarette and I don't really care. It all looks like a mute drama to me; or like a pre-audition rehearsal in front of the jury-occupied room door. The drunk dragon is flapping her arms around, her outfit completely disobedient to her moves. The friend is pretty much pissed off beyond recognition by now and is as me looking forward to the tram finally coming any minute now.

The tram is taking too long and I'm sucked back into my music universe. I reckon it must be pretty weird seeing someone dance in the city in the middle of the night, but it's one of the little joys in my life. I mean, it's not like I'm using some MC Hammer moves or what not ― I just don't suppress the urges that I get from the music and I simply move to it.

I think to myself again how it's a crazy world and I add another mental check in my notebook. By this time, I'm already smoking my third cigarette. When I exhale, I can't really tell where the cigarette smoke ends and the frozen breath begins.