Day 3: Scoot-Scoot to Hideaway

I met P early on day 3. We had breakfast in Vila at a little French place. I can’t say no to crepes wit bananas and nutella. We set off on the scooter to see what there was to see. Outside of Vila, the people live in villages which are exactly what you would imagine. Some have minimal electricity, generators, etc. I followed P’s lead as he just pulled over and walked up to the village and into people’s ‘yards.’ In the US, this would not go over so well. Also, he kept his nice camera around his neck and was taking incessant photos. I was amazed at how welcoming the ni-Vanuatu were. Most speak fairly good English. I was impressed that most people spoke 3 languages: their mother tongue which varies from island to island, Bislama (so that different islands can communicate), and English or French to communicate with the tourists. Vanuatu used to be shared by the British and the French before independence. There is still some French influence evident, but as most of the tourists are English-speaking, locals have adapted.

As we traipsed through these people’s worlds, they smiled, thanked us for coming, and invited us back. We also stopped by a few schools (photographer’s love photographing kids) and generally got the same response. Within a few minutes of arriving, word would spread and someone with good English would find us and start talking to us. Upon learning that it costs about $120/yr/per kid to attend school while the average income is only about $10/month in some poorer villages, I was immediately racking my brain and trying to figure out the best way to help these people. Reforming the school system, making the government pay for it with tourist income, etc. It took me a few days to realize that maybe these people are happy just as they are.

We finally found the cemetery that P had been looking for. We sat under a huge tree and indulged in a meaning of life conversation in a way that only fortunate people can. Did the ni-vanuatu sit around pondering their purpose? Did they have quarter life crisis and have to take trips halfway around the world to find themselves? Probably not. P proposed that maybe it was because they were oblivious of the way Americans lived. Maybe they didn’t desire things because material objects weren’t in their face all day every day. Everything that the ni-vanuatu did was purposeful and linked with survival: working in the garden, making things to sell at the market, etc.

After leaving the cemetery, we headed to Hideaway Island. We caught the ‘free’ ferry and then paid 1000 vatu to enter the island. The snorkeling was well worth it. After using up all of our brain power on the intense meaning of life discussion, lazing on the beach felt well deserved.

Vanuatu Day 2: On the Way to the Cemetery

I’m not a clean freak or a hotel snob, but the one thing I can not handle is bugs in my bed. When I woke up, the dead cockroach on the floor didn’t bother me at all. Such things are to be expected in tropical climates. But the ants or whatever bugs in my bed were not tolerable. Especially for $40/night.

So, first project of the day: find new place to sleep. It was during this quest that I started to tune into the situation in Vanuatu. Essentially, the foreigners had come in, invested and wiped out the “middle class.” The locals had caught on to the fact that they could charge tourists lots of money and so in some places, they emulated the prices of foreigners. But, the ni-Vanuautu needed to live too. So prices of some things were still low. My strategy was just to pretend I was a local and do what they did.

First step was to get a ‘bus’ to the other side of town. The ‘buses’ are 100 vatu (about $1) for wherever you need to go. They’re unregulated mini vans with no pre-determined route that you direct by telling them where you’re going and reminding them by yelling ‘stop here please.’ I had experienced this same thing in St. Maarten and found it to be great. If the bus is semi-full when you get on, you get a free tour of some outlying villages or parts of the island you wouldn’t have ordinarily seen.

After a discouraging hour or so of looking for accommodations (1 place had changed names and was no longer budget, 1 place was full, 1 place I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I understood ‘no’ and ‘2 years’) I was headed back to town. Some guy on a scooter stopped and asked me if I knew where the cemetery was. I was a little tired of carrying my pack around, it was getting pretty warm, and I was sweaty. I shook my head just as the guy realized that I was even more lost than he was.

The guy ( I will call him P) turned out to be a really nice and helpful individual. He interrupted his quest to photograph the largest cemetery on the island to help me find a place to stay. He had rented a scooter and it must have quite a sight to see the two of us plus my (slightly large) pack on the scooter.
I ended up finding a little place about 5 minutes out of town. It was locally owned which made me feel a ton better about the $20/night. The ‘bungalows’ were actually pretty neat. There were 4 or 5 scattered up the side of hill amidst lush vegetation.

After my task of the day was complete, I headed to the market for lunch. Just like in latin America, the fresh fruit/ vegetable market had locals cooking up meals in the back. I found a table, sat down and asked what was for lunch. The lady said chicken or fish so I had a huge plate of fish with rice and vegetables. All for 350 vatu (roughly $3.50US) while my tourist Aussie friends were enjoying their $15+ meals at the restaurants down the street.

One of the most endearing qualities about Vanuatu is that the people (the ni-vanuatu) are so friendly and happy. While some are dirt poor, there are not children running after you begging for money, there aren’t shady scams ripping off the tourist. As a female traveler, I have to pay more attention to my surroundings and positions I put myself in. In Vanuatu, I never felt uncomfortable or that I was a walking target. I find that there are a lot of situations in life where acting like you know exactly what you are doing is key. I acted like it was completely natural for me to be the only white girl eating lunch with a bunch of ni-vanuatu.

I wasn’t able to completely avoid the touristy traps though… P and I took the scooter up to the Mele Cascades where we paid an exorbitant 1500 vatu ($15) to walk up to the falls. The swimming holes and size of the falls in general definitely made it worth it.

Vanuatu Day 1: At Home in Paradise

Before this trip, I didn't know anything about Vanuatu. I finished up a few school assignments (1 a week early which has never happened before) and off I went. Based on a few bits of random advice, I brought some food and expected the worst. Vanuatu consists of over 80 fairly small islands. I went to Efate to start with because it was the cheapest/most accessible from Brisbane. Port Vila is the main 'city.'

As I walked down the stairs off the airplane, I felt immediately at home. All I could see was endless green vegetation and blue skies. It was similar to Hawaii, just without the scent of plumeria in the air. The tropical warmth and feel was intoxication and I soaked it up willingly.

I took a taxi to the hotel I planned on staying at. The taxi was a rip-off ($18) and the accommodations which I had been told were back packer style had morphed within 2 years to ‘resort’ style. I figured it would suffice for one night even though a bit out of my budget. I quickly remembered that patience and going with flow is key to island living.

By the time I got settled in, it was definitely time for a beverage so I changed clothes and headed into ‘town’ (Port Vila). I found a great little café right on the water but was almost immediately disappointed to find out that there was free wireless access after 3pm. This was not where I wanted to be. I collected my overpriced but strong cocktail from the nice man with pink fingernail polish and settled in for some people watching and reflecting. I was surprised to see a version of drunk Jenga at the café. I was also surprised at the lack of young non-touristy backpacker styles.

In my experience, most males have a fascination with transportation vessels whether it is cars, motorcycles, boats or whatever. As previous boyfriends mentioned fantasies about life on a sailboat, I would immediately tune out and go to my fantasy of life on my own island. But, for the first time, I watched people taking their dinghy's in from the big boats anchored just outside the harbor and I wanted to be one of them. Surely I could overcome my motion sickness tendencies if it meant complete freedom.

Brisbane and Lone Pine

Last weekend I went to Brisbane with the intent of going to the Valley Fiesta. The Valley is ‘the’ trendy place to be in Brisbane. We made it to Brisbane around lunch time on Saturday and ate lunch at a ‘gourmet’ burger place which was actually really good.

We stayed at a friend’s brother’s apartment located just near the Valley which was the best possible location. Perusing the markets was really fun. Retro stuff is really in fashion here which is funny to me because a lot of people dress 80’s style thinking it’s popular. So if you’re dressing like it’s the 80’s, are 60’s and 70’s really that retro? I don’t know.

Brisbane (the capital of QLD) is a fun city. There’s a river that runs at a swirly diagonal through the city. We took the river ferry into South Bank (a main part of the city) and it was fun to see the city from the water.

We had a fun time going out Saturday night, but the best part of my trip to Brisbane though was our trip to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary on Sunday. Located just outside of the city, it’s the world’s first and largest koala sanctuary. It is also one of the few places you can still “cuddle” a koala. Supposedly, they ensure that each animal is handled for less than 30 minutes/day and has every 3^rd day off. I was sort of torn about actually holding the koala, but decided to do it. They instruct you to make a ‘basket’ with your hands and then they set the koala in it and put its paws on your shoulder. Or in my case, my shoulder and my boob. The koala is eating the whole time so it’s sort of oblivious to the fact it’s being held and photographed. The sanctuary employee (koala lady?) told us that they’re indifferent to being held. So that made me feel better. After, we got to stroke the koala’s back. Its fur is a lot more coarse than I was expecting. Still very cute though..

The cool thing about Lone Pine is that it’s almost like a big farm. Very few of the animals were in cages. The Koalas were split up into little areas that had a low fence sort of structure around them and included a few trees. So you could get within 3 or 4 feet of them with no (glass or wire) barrier. It was fun to observe the way the moved and situated themselves in trees. Koalas use up a lot of energy digesting their food so that’s why they have to sleep so much. Some of them were fairly active.

The other fun parts of Lone Pine are the wallabies and kangaroos. There’s a huge reserve where you go through the gate and then you can feed the wallabies and kangaroos. Its really neat to be able to just sit on the grass and watch the animals moving around you. They were so lazy and domesticated though! They knew that people all wanted to feed them so they would wait for the people to approach them rather than hop up to people. I momentarily contemplated chasing them so I could actually see them hop. There were a few moving around towards the back, but a lot of them were just laying down soaking up the sun. I didn’t realize how powerful their tails were and how they use it as sort of a 5^th leg. Very cool.

At the back of the reserve, there was a mama and a joey. Kangaroos have some crazy ability to hang on to a fertilized cell until the first baby is out and then re-instate the second one so effectively it’s like they’re continuously pregnant. Anyhow, it was really cool to see the joey in the mom’s pouch. Oh and there were a few random emus wandering around the kangaroo part too.

Rainbow at the beach

Life per usual

I haven't blogged in a while because... well... no good reason. I just feel like I should only blog about exciting things. But, the reality is that it's life per usual here in Australia. The honeymoon period has worn off. I can go to Wooly's and not spend 2 hours ogling the different products. (The Asian grocery store is still a challenge though). I know which bus I need to take. And I know that the Wednesday night bus driver is on a mission- he gets us back to Broadbeach in 25 minutes while the daytime drivers usually takes 30-50 minutes. I only cringe a little when I hear the word 'jumper' now. The word 'uni' has become a part of my vocabulary. I eat vegemite. And I like it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm so stoked to be here. But unfortunately I'm not wrestling crocodiles and hopping around with kangaroos every day. I'm a student trying to make it through my last 6 weeks of law school. I'm a visitor trying to meet Australians and learn what makes them different and also what makes them the similar. I'm a person trying to grow. And perhaps most importantly, I'm an inhabitant of the Earth trying to ensure that it has a future past 2050. This is my life.

A few thoughts on life and being 25.... My birthday was about 2 weeks ago and yes, I survived my quarterlife crisis. I think that the chocolate cake for breakfast courtesy of my roommate was definitely an integral part to overcoming the crisis. My previous study abroad in Spain occured when I was 20 and turning 21-another pivotal time. I find that I'm different aside from just being older. This time around, I knew exactly what I was getting into and did it anyway. With Spain, I felt a little bit like I was tricked into some things. With Australia though, I managed to botch my visa worse than with Spain. Definitely room for improvement in the preparation department! Here though, I don't pretend like I don't speak the language when the oh so pleasant topic of politics comes up. I've come to terms with the fact that most people hate Americans. ("drill, baby, drill" anyone?) It's sort of understandable.

Anyhow, the most important thing I've realized is something I've known all along- that life is a do it yourself sort of thing. I'm the one that is responsible for my happiness. I flip out every now and then about being 25 and not having started my 'real' career, etc. And then I realize that hey, I'm in Australia. In November I will be spending time at the Great Barrier Reef. Unfortunately, people who are waiting until they retire to see it will be too late. In December, I'm going to visit SE Asia. While security is something that humans are always lusting after, I'm ok with my path and the uncertainty that it brings. I'm happy with what I've chosen for myself.

So yes, more adventurous blogs to come. Brisbane this weekend, Vanuatu in a few weeks, 1 book to read, and 2 papers to write. Yup, life per usual

Trip to Byron and Nimbin

Last weekend, a fellow Floridian and I decided to make the trek to Byron Bay. Byron contains the most eastern point of Australia. It's also known for whale-spotting and just being a laid back hippie-esque sort of place.

Our adventure started when we hopped on the bus. We were quickly informed (after just taking a bite of our respective snacks) that there was no eating on the bus. Also, we had to buckle up. This is on a charter bus... No drinking either. No smiling, we thought, and surely, no having fun. Unless you count the blaring Johnny Cash tunes as fun. The bus cost $10 and took off from Surfers bus station. Two hours later, it was about time to arrive in Byron. We stopped at an "info" sign which looked like it could have been Byron, but by the time we debated about getting off the bus, the bus was already taking off again. The driver had made no announcement that we had left Byron. Finally, we figured it out and got him to stop along the highway. There had been random stops along the way and we were expecting to arrive at a proper bus station. Leave it to the Americans to miss the bus stop!

After walking back to town, we stocked up on supplies for the night (vodka) and located our hostel shuttle. The hostel was located about 15 minutes outside of town (walking). Byron has such a laid back feel. It is touristy but not in the same way as the gold coast. From my understanding, the artists went there and then it became "cool." Now, as a result, people are flocking there and driving the starving artists who made the place cool right out of town. Funny how that happens.

Anyhow, it's been a while since I've been in a hostel, but i was impressed. It was clean, laid back, and cool. We took the free shuttle into town and had dinner at a nice restaurant called "The Balcony" which overlooked one of the main streets in town. I tried kangaroo (an aussie delicacy) which was delicious. It was served seared with goat cheese, a sort of sweet brown sauce and a thin wafer. We ended up at the the Beach Motel listening to a live reggae band that was awesome. Byron was definitely colder than the Gold Coast, but the walk home wasn't quite as bad as expected.

The hostel had free bike borrowing so we jumped on and went to the lighthouse. I've been going through some serious biking withdrawal and the beach cruisers just whetted my appetite for more. The hike around the bay was fairly serious. Ok, maybe not so serious if you're not wearing $3 Locals slippers! Anyhow, the beach was pretty, large, and totally white sand. The water was absolutely beautiful. It was too windy (therefore too cold) to actually lay out on the beach. On the way to the lighthouse, we passed another beach with a few surfers. The waves looked really long and perfect for beginners. At the lighthouse, we spotted dolphins, but no whales. We also spotted some guy proposing to his girlfriend. It reminded me of a guy I met while climbing Mt. Chirripo in Costa Rica. He proposed to his gf at the top and she had no clue. I think the key element to a great proposal is surprise. It should be when least expected and without an "engagement photo crew."

On the loop back to where we parked the bikes, we walked through the "coastal rainforest." It was really quiet and quite peaceful. Upon returning to town, we had fish tacos for lunch. At this point, I'm seriously craving some good Mexican food despite all the great Asian food. We checked out the shops and ran into the alpaca that we saw from the bus. It probably wasn't the best idea to give him $1 and get a picture taken, but I think he's ok. He looked well-fed and well taken care of. And he was so furry and soft that I couldn't resist.

Saturday night, we went out to an Italian restaurant for dinner. Apparently there are 3 or 4 places to go at night in Byron. We went to one and it was terrible. Hardly anyone was there, but it was small, hot, stuffy, and expensive. We tried Cocomongo's a few times, but it was full and we weren't in the mood to wait in line. As I get older, my tolerance for a) waiting in lines and b) paying cover charges has pretty much completely gone away. It just doesn't make sense to me. Is the club really offering such a great experience that i want to pay to be a part of it just to pay for watered down drinks? I think this defies the laws of supply and demand. Shouldn't the bars be enticing us to come in by offering freebies? (i.e. $10 cover, all you can drink). I think this is like the case of bathing suits. Someone just decided one day that we should pay $80 for 1 sq. ft of fabric and we (as dumb consumers) said ok.

Anyhow, we ended upback where we started at the Great Northern Hotel. The beer was decent. I might have stopped for a lamington on the way home, but at least it wasn't a kebab!

By Sunday, the late nights were starting to take a toll, but we persevered. More free pancakes!! And onto the Nimbin tour. The bus arrived at 10am sharp. The only way to describe Nimbin is as a small alternative style hippie town of roughly 500 inhabitants. There was some land deal decades ago in which the hippies scored big. As a result, things happen in Nimbin that aren't allowed to happen in other places. I enjoyed driving through Lismore (flood central), passing the sacred rocks, the park, and the waterfall. The market was fun too. Things were way more expensive than expected but I had some juice and satay chicken that hit the spot. Healthy juice is very big here. I usually get some sort of mixture of carrot, celery, apple, beetroot, lemon, and ginger. It's great because you see them actually put the fresh veggies and fruit into the blender.

I have mixed feelings about the Nimbin experience though. The people there make their livings from the tourists. That's fine, but the tourists are buying things that are normally illegal. I'm just not sure if it's good policy as a tourist to support this way of life. Not just from a legal perspective but from an economical incentive perspective. Why work hard to make an honest living when you can rip off tourists? On the other hand, if it works and no one is getting hurt, why stop it? I was sort of surprised to see flyers for an "independence from America day." The Nimbin-ites are serious!

Completely exhausted (after a hot dog and white bread barbie) and ready to get home, we decided to forego the "no fun" bus and went with our Nimbin tourguide's offer of a free ride back to the Gold Coast. He was leaving immediately whereas the bus was leaving in a few hours. We climbed aboard with 20 american students studying at the Uni and I quickly remembered why I dislike large groups of American travelers.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. I could have spent a ton more time talking to folks in Nimbin and I would love to actually swim at the beach in Byron. The water was too cold this time, but maybe next time