With my current position, jobs seem to come in at a feast or famine rate. To my utter gratitude, mostly feast ... and the last little while it has been the epitome of that. As I write, I have not had a day off since April 20, and won't be getting one until May 4. While I'm very grateful for the opportunity that I've had to work, last night was a draining night. The children weren't bad - nothing horrible happened ... I was just having to deal with a teenage boy ... who acts and talks more like a vindictive teenage girl suffering from PMS, I'm sure everyone can surmise how much fun that combination is! ;)
I had had enough, my patience was drained, so when my superior said that I could shove off about fifteen minutes early, I eagerly accepted instead of my usual offering to stay a little later. I got in my car, and slowly drove up the hill to get on my way home. My car (knock on wood) is another incredible blessing in my life, to say that it has been a hero of sorts would not be an over exaggeration, but if my car is my hero, then any small hill is it's kryptonite.
With pats and encouragement from me, my car inched it's way to the top of a hill that begins just outside of the house I was working at, and as the car reached the summit, I found myself staring straight into the eyes of two large kangaroos directly in front of me and the car. It was cold, and dark outside, and it was just the kangaroos, my humble little car, and me. I just sat and stared, my headlights framing their large forms. Music was playing from the radio in my car, but the cold night air made everything feel more quiet as I watched on, astounded by the beauty of the wild kangaroos.
They soon grew tired of staring at me, and gently sloped their necks towards the grass of house I was facing to continue their nibbling. I might be a boring specimen ... but I found them infinitely more enchanting than they did me. My engine quietly hummed beneath me ... as I watched them graze, feet from my car.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement to my right, and when I turned, there was a third kangaroo nibbling on the grass next to my car. I just sat in the cold, enjoying their company ... as they lazily nibbled on the grassy bits around me.
Finally, after the kangaroos and I had finished enjoying a couple "easy listening" songs from the radio, I decided that I had better head home. I began to turn my car, and the kangaroo to my right hopped away in utter silence, back into the forest that must be it's home.
Every experience has it's highs and it's lows, and I would have to admit that hanging out with wild kangaroos at 11pm ... is a high for me.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
¡Felices Pascuas
I had a bit of moment today at church. The YSA Sunday School teacher asked us, "Who had been raised in the church?" Five out of the six of us raised our hands.
In Gilbert ... or Utah ... this would be pretty common, I'm used to adults being raised in the church ... but there was something different about this scene.
The teacher of the class, Juan, from Chile, was raised in the church. Sariah, sitting next to me, from Hong Kong, was raised in the church. Erin, my Aussie roommate, raised in the church. Simin, German/Australian, raised in the church. The only convert there was my good friend Yina, from China.
A room of ADULTS from several different corners of the planet (only one from America). Adults, who were all once in nursery, primary, the youth program, took institute classes, a few even serving missions ... all of us raised within the warm arms of the gospel.
The sheer "international-ness" of the church has never hit me so deeply.
Juan sometimes struggles with English, as do Sariah and Yina sometimes ... but the language of the church is our common language. It is the common thread that connects our presumably completely divergent lives.
This Easter, my mind turns to the beautiful message of the gospel, and the opportunity that we have for eternal life because of an almost incomprehensible sacrifice that was performed on our behalf nearly two thousand years ago, by a loving Elder Brother. And for the bravery, and faith of a young boy in New York nearly two hundred years ago, that has made it possible, for six people ... from six different countries ... to jointly partake in the good news of the gospel, and for five of us, to have had the good fortune to be taught such beautiful truths, in different corners of the world, since infancy.
To all nations, kindred, and tongues, indeed.
In Gilbert ... or Utah ... this would be pretty common, I'm used to adults being raised in the church ... but there was something different about this scene.
The teacher of the class, Juan, from Chile, was raised in the church. Sariah, sitting next to me, from Hong Kong, was raised in the church. Erin, my Aussie roommate, raised in the church. Simin, German/Australian, raised in the church. The only convert there was my good friend Yina, from China.
A room of ADULTS from several different corners of the planet (only one from America). Adults, who were all once in nursery, primary, the youth program, took institute classes, a few even serving missions ... all of us raised within the warm arms of the gospel.
The sheer "international-ness" of the church has never hit me so deeply.
Juan sometimes struggles with English, as do Sariah and Yina sometimes ... but the language of the church is our common language. It is the common thread that connects our presumably completely divergent lives.
This Easter, my mind turns to the beautiful message of the gospel, and the opportunity that we have for eternal life because of an almost incomprehensible sacrifice that was performed on our behalf nearly two thousand years ago, by a loving Elder Brother. And for the bravery, and faith of a young boy in New York nearly two hundred years ago, that has made it possible, for six people ... from six different countries ... to jointly partake in the good news of the gospel, and for five of us, to have had the good fortune to be taught such beautiful truths, in different corners of the world, since infancy.
To all nations, kindred, and tongues, indeed.
Friday, March 23, 2012
oh so fowl!
This morning after work - I decided to head down to the lake, about a two minute drive from my house, and embraced my inner "old lady" and just hung out with the birds for a bit.
One of the symbols of Western Australia, is the black swan. They're beautiful. There's something almost magical about a black swan ... they seem so out of place ... for me at least, they have an air of mystery to them. But their beauty still matches that of their white cousins, with their long slender necks, and graceful movement in the water ... it's as if they know they are the prima ballerinas of the lake.
I wish that I was a better photographer so that I could capture it a little better.
Also below, I have a picture from the Frangipani tree in the front yard. I wish that I could explain to everyone how sweet they smell, they've been in bloom the whole time I've been here, and require little care. Sweet, sturdy, and dependable Frangipani ... I think I have a new favorite flower.
One of the symbols of Western Australia, is the black swan. They're beautiful. There's something almost magical about a black swan ... they seem so out of place ... for me at least, they have an air of mystery to them. But their beauty still matches that of their white cousins, with their long slender necks, and graceful movement in the water ... it's as if they know they are the prima ballerinas of the lake.
I wish that I was a better photographer so that I could capture it a little better.
Also below, I have a picture from the Frangipani tree in the front yard. I wish that I could explain to everyone how sweet they smell, they've been in bloom the whole time I've been here, and require little care. Sweet, sturdy, and dependable Frangipani ... I think I have a new favorite flower.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
the first REAL shift.
So it's absolutely official!
On Friday I had my very first real shift with the Department for Child Protection. And it was quite the experience! I had just finished three orientation shifts, and a friend (Pat) had called me, asking if I would be willing to cover a shift for her because her dog Winston had been feeling poorly (hehe- you can tell that I hang with a bunch of pommies!), and she had been unwell herself.
I agreed to take the shift (any shift offered to me, I'm gonna take!) and so I left my home around 11:00 and took the train to Midland (an hour and half away from my house) where Pat met me, and then took me to the house in Swanview, she was also going to pick me up from work because she knows that I still don't have a car (heaven bless Pat!).
I rocked up to (arrived at) the house finally at 1:30pm and as I walked towards the front door I saw a familiar face ... it was Josh. We had gone through training together ... and it was then that I realized that Josh must be doing an orientation shift. That was a bizarre realization for me ... especially when I realized that I was meant to be the person (full fledged staff at this point) whom Josh was meant to "shadow". Only one day of training separated us, and I was meant to train him?
As I entered the house, a sweet 16 year-old boy came bounding out and said very happily sang, "Hi, Molly!!" And then quickly gave me a hug. This I appreciated all the more because I've gotten very used to the common, "Who the f*** are you?" when I rock up to the houses ... haha, so hugs are AWESOME! And I was surprised that he knew my name.
This boy, whose name I learned is Isaac* led me to the office so that I could meet the other staff members, and complimented me on my accent the entire way. By the way, Isaac is the first person to have ever said that he liked my accent, so I really enjoyed that! I met staff, and filled out some of the requisite paperwork, before going out to the lounge and joining two of the boys in a game of Uno (pronounced 'you-no' here).
Then it was time for the official hand over, where I learned that two of the boys were to be taken to the Youth Centre and be supervised (the older one was fine to go on his own, but the younger one was new - and has a bit of an arson history and so needs some supervision), and that I was meant to drive them, and that Josh was meant to shadow me.
My heart immediately leaped to my throat. I hadn't driven in Australia yet. I've been using public transportation ... and while I'm very comfortable driving on the left, I hadn't ever driven in a car that had the steering wheel on the right hand side ... and now my first go of it was going to be in a completely unfamiliar environment (I live an hour and half away), and with two teenage boys in the back ... and someone who was technically meant to take notes from my book ... to say I was stressed would be an understatement.
I wasn't used to the car and ended up honking the horn by accident twice as I slowly pulled us out of the drive way, having to back out. I was a little horrified ... the kids on the other hand, LOVED IT. They thought it was the funniest thing, and the twelve year old aboriginal boy (named Oscar*) in the back was giving me detailed advice ... how a 12 year old knows so much about driving ... I'd rather not know.
When I went to turn on the turn signal another roar of laughter came from the backseat ... I had used the same hand that I would use to turn on the turning signal in the States ... which here in Australia, didn't turn on the turn signal ... but turned on the windshield wipers (let's just say I definitely did that more than once). A couple of other bloopers like that and we finally made it to the Youth Centre, where one kid hung out with his girlfriend and played pool, while the 12 year old played ping pong, and an Xbox game that involved him needing to stab people in the throat and other equally violent things. I'm usually pretty lax when it comes to violence in games, but after hanging out with these kids the last little while, I've come to realize that they don't need any encouragement in the violence department, and now look at these games and television with a wearier eye.
Josh and I had just walked into the youth center and had a seat, before a woman walked over to us, and said that we were very rude not to introduce ourselves, and gave us both the third degree because we might be pedophiles or something. Josh turned and immediately said, "Oh sorry, I'm shadowing Molly today" and pointed to me. Great. So I apologized for our rudeness and explained that I was new and that I wouldn't make the same mistake again. This woman's name happened to be Molly as well ... and when she learned of our shared name became softer with us (well, marginally - haha). She described the program a little to us, and when she told us the age of kids that they allow to come to the Youth Center, I chimed up that actually both Josh and I, without being there to supervise kids were technically young enough to still hang out at the youth center (without being harassed). Come December I would be considered too old, but as of right now, the services of the Youth Center are opened to me as well.
At one point in our few hours at the youth center, Oscar (the 12 year old) decided to take a smoke break - yep, you read that right. Most of the kids I've been looking after smoke, and none of them are allowed to smoke in the house, so they all congregate together in the backyard to smoke. Who sells cigarettes to kids? And where do they get the money to buy the expensive packs?
Well, the kids don't buy them. They go around and collect "bumpers" which are the little ends that adult smokers have thrown on the ground after a smoke break, and the kids collect the little cigarette buts, disassemble them, and then roll their own cigarettes from all the tobacco that they collect from the ground, trash cans, you name it.
We ended up leaving but the older kid who had been hanging out with his girlfriend was going to see if he could sleep over at a pal's house (which he's allowed to do, if it's alright with his pal's mom). So we followed him to the house in case the kid's mom said that tonight was not a good night for a sleepover, and that way he'd still have a way to get home. On our way there, another one this kid's buddies did a wipe out on his bike and cut his leg up pretty badly ... and his entire calf was saturated red with blood.
My kid jumped to get the first aid kit from the car (while it was still moving - slowly - but moving) because the window was rolled down. I grabbed the pack from him, and got out of the car to check the kid out. I put on a glove and started cleaning him up using the small little alcohol swabs in the kit but decided it was a much bigger job than my little alcohol swabs could handle and sent him home to his mom who he said was home so that she could wash it out with water, and sent him home with a gauze bandage.
It had been a pretty full few hours at work.
Once we finally were back at the house and the kids had had dinner, I was doing some dishes when all of a sudden I heard a familiar voice on the television. And I ran towards it ... one of my very best friend's cousins was the one getting arrested on the show COPS, and I said as much. The boys already held a level of respect for me because they assume the scar on my arm is the result of being stabbed (and not from my dermatologist), but now that I know someone who's related to someone who was arrested on COPS ... I approached almost idol status ... at least for a few minutes. (But still, before I left, I was conned over giving the kids extra ice cream - haha ... oops)
All in all - it was a slightly terrifying ... but also exciting ... first official shift as a full fledged staff member :)
On Friday I had my very first real shift with the Department for Child Protection. And it was quite the experience! I had just finished three orientation shifts, and a friend (Pat) had called me, asking if I would be willing to cover a shift for her because her dog Winston had been feeling poorly (hehe- you can tell that I hang with a bunch of pommies!), and she had been unwell herself.
I agreed to take the shift (any shift offered to me, I'm gonna take!) and so I left my home around 11:00 and took the train to Midland (an hour and half away from my house) where Pat met me, and then took me to the house in Swanview, she was also going to pick me up from work because she knows that I still don't have a car (heaven bless Pat!).
I rocked up to (arrived at) the house finally at 1:30pm and as I walked towards the front door I saw a familiar face ... it was Josh. We had gone through training together ... and it was then that I realized that Josh must be doing an orientation shift. That was a bizarre realization for me ... especially when I realized that I was meant to be the person (full fledged staff at this point) whom Josh was meant to "shadow". Only one day of training separated us, and I was meant to train him?
As I entered the house, a sweet 16 year-old boy came bounding out and said very happily sang, "Hi, Molly!!" And then quickly gave me a hug. This I appreciated all the more because I've gotten very used to the common, "Who the f*** are you?" when I rock up to the houses ... haha, so hugs are AWESOME! And I was surprised that he knew my name.
This boy, whose name I learned is Isaac* led me to the office so that I could meet the other staff members, and complimented me on my accent the entire way. By the way, Isaac is the first person to have ever said that he liked my accent, so I really enjoyed that! I met staff, and filled out some of the requisite paperwork, before going out to the lounge and joining two of the boys in a game of Uno (pronounced 'you-no' here).
Then it was time for the official hand over, where I learned that two of the boys were to be taken to the Youth Centre and be supervised (the older one was fine to go on his own, but the younger one was new - and has a bit of an arson history and so needs some supervision), and that I was meant to drive them, and that Josh was meant to shadow me.
My heart immediately leaped to my throat. I hadn't driven in Australia yet. I've been using public transportation ... and while I'm very comfortable driving on the left, I hadn't ever driven in a car that had the steering wheel on the right hand side ... and now my first go of it was going to be in a completely unfamiliar environment (I live an hour and half away), and with two teenage boys in the back ... and someone who was technically meant to take notes from my book ... to say I was stressed would be an understatement.
I wasn't used to the car and ended up honking the horn by accident twice as I slowly pulled us out of the drive way, having to back out. I was a little horrified ... the kids on the other hand, LOVED IT. They thought it was the funniest thing, and the twelve year old aboriginal boy (named Oscar*) in the back was giving me detailed advice ... how a 12 year old knows so much about driving ... I'd rather not know.
When I went to turn on the turn signal another roar of laughter came from the backseat ... I had used the same hand that I would use to turn on the turning signal in the States ... which here in Australia, didn't turn on the turn signal ... but turned on the windshield wipers (let's just say I definitely did that more than once). A couple of other bloopers like that and we finally made it to the Youth Centre, where one kid hung out with his girlfriend and played pool, while the 12 year old played ping pong, and an Xbox game that involved him needing to stab people in the throat and other equally violent things. I'm usually pretty lax when it comes to violence in games, but after hanging out with these kids the last little while, I've come to realize that they don't need any encouragement in the violence department, and now look at these games and television with a wearier eye.
Josh and I had just walked into the youth center and had a seat, before a woman walked over to us, and said that we were very rude not to introduce ourselves, and gave us both the third degree because we might be pedophiles or something. Josh turned and immediately said, "Oh sorry, I'm shadowing Molly today" and pointed to me. Great. So I apologized for our rudeness and explained that I was new and that I wouldn't make the same mistake again. This woman's name happened to be Molly as well ... and when she learned of our shared name became softer with us (well, marginally - haha). She described the program a little to us, and when she told us the age of kids that they allow to come to the Youth Center, I chimed up that actually both Josh and I, without being there to supervise kids were technically young enough to still hang out at the youth center (without being harassed). Come December I would be considered too old, but as of right now, the services of the Youth Center are opened to me as well.
At one point in our few hours at the youth center, Oscar (the 12 year old) decided to take a smoke break - yep, you read that right. Most of the kids I've been looking after smoke, and none of them are allowed to smoke in the house, so they all congregate together in the backyard to smoke. Who sells cigarettes to kids? And where do they get the money to buy the expensive packs?
Well, the kids don't buy them. They go around and collect "bumpers" which are the little ends that adult smokers have thrown on the ground after a smoke break, and the kids collect the little cigarette buts, disassemble them, and then roll their own cigarettes from all the tobacco that they collect from the ground, trash cans, you name it.
We ended up leaving but the older kid who had been hanging out with his girlfriend was going to see if he could sleep over at a pal's house (which he's allowed to do, if it's alright with his pal's mom). So we followed him to the house in case the kid's mom said that tonight was not a good night for a sleepover, and that way he'd still have a way to get home. On our way there, another one this kid's buddies did a wipe out on his bike and cut his leg up pretty badly ... and his entire calf was saturated red with blood.
My kid jumped to get the first aid kit from the car (while it was still moving - slowly - but moving) because the window was rolled down. I grabbed the pack from him, and got out of the car to check the kid out. I put on a glove and started cleaning him up using the small little alcohol swabs in the kit but decided it was a much bigger job than my little alcohol swabs could handle and sent him home to his mom who he said was home so that she could wash it out with water, and sent him home with a gauze bandage.
It had been a pretty full few hours at work.
Once we finally were back at the house and the kids had had dinner, I was doing some dishes when all of a sudden I heard a familiar voice on the television. And I ran towards it ... one of my very best friend's cousins was the one getting arrested on the show COPS, and I said as much. The boys already held a level of respect for me because they assume the scar on my arm is the result of being stabbed (and not from my dermatologist), but now that I know someone who's related to someone who was arrested on COPS ... I approached almost idol status ... at least for a few minutes. (But still, before I left, I was conned over giving the kids extra ice cream - haha ... oops)
All in all - it was a slightly terrifying ... but also exciting ... first official shift as a full fledged staff member :)
Saturday, February 25, 2012
clang clang went the trolley, ding ding went the bell
I've been working, YAY! And with that, I've been taking a lot of buses and trains. This past week I've been going to the Keith Maine Centre which is situated within a State Park up north of the river, and it takes about 2 hours to get there, and 2 hours to get back (thank heavens that I didn't have to be there until 9 am).
My trip consists of a twenty minute bus ride, a 70 minute train ride, and then a coworker and I share a drive for thirty minutes more before we get there. I usually spend my time listening to music or talk radio on my mobile and sometimes sneak in some general people watching ... but it can be a little awkward on the train, because the seats face one another (so other people are watching right back at you ... kind of like trying to people watch in an elevator), and if you're not in a seat, and standing, you've got two different sets of people staring at your waist. But I've gotten pretty good at still sneaking in the people watching.
It seems like there are always a wide assortment of characters that travel with me. There's the suave young professional ... who wears fitted gray slacks, a light 'salmon' colored shirt, and tie, with bright polished pointed black shoes, while reading the latest on their IPad, most of them look like models who've escaped from a GQ "Business" shoot (I'm not kidding either, they all look like they come from central casting). There's the slightly older professional, who wears a full suit, a clunky expensive looking watch, and reads the paper, never lifting his eyes off the page, bits of gray salting his hair almost as much as his light aftershave salts the air. There's always at least one elderly woman, dressed in fine, pressed clothes, and holding a feminine sun hat and large purse in her lap, a gentle smile waiting at the corner of her mouth whenever her eyes meet with someone else's. The middle aged woman absolutely engrossed in a thick book with pictures of virile young men on the cover embracing scantily clad women with long waist length hair. The hoards of school aged teenagers, who fill the cars with satchels, black school shoes, about five or so different uniform variations, and the giggles and laughter of youth. And of course, the ever present backpackers and hippies. Nose ring, barefeet, singlet, and yoga pants, the groups only really differentiated by the presence of a backpack.
Once I was on the train, and a young woman (mid twenties or so) on a motorized wheelchair came on board (the kind that you direct with a joy stick), with some Transperth Staff assistance. She thanked the staff member for the help in getting her on the train, and the people around her for making sure that there was room for her. Once we were on our way, she decided she wanted her mobile. At which point, she stood up, and walked behind her wheelchair looking through the things that were hung on the back. Eyes stared with absolute awe, and some slightly naive disgust as she walked around her motorized wheel chair. I almost busted out laughing as I watched the expression of one man dressed in a construction worker uniform, as he looked on mouth slightly agape, and eyes the size of grapefruits.
Or one time, I was on the bus, and a woman in her sixties was talking to a handsome young man in his twenties. They were strangers, and she kept telling him how handsome he was, and asking about the girlfriend that he must "surely" have. The guy was really cool about it, seemingly more flattered than creeped out, and seemed to really enjoy talking with her, until he had to get off (in front of a gym ... haha, oh but of course!), and the woman flirtatiously said goodbye to him.
My favorite though, has to be a guy who came on the train at Claisebrook and got off in the city. He was holding a guitar and sat immediately across from me. He raised the guitar to his lap and gently began strumming the strings before deciding to just go for it, and began flat out playing the guitar on the train in front of me. I took my ear phones out of my ears (why listen to the radio, when you've got a live show). He never looked up from his guitar. He was so engrossed in his music. And he played until the train doors opened in the city and he jumped up from his seat and left.
You don't get to have these stories if you're driving!! ;)
Next week I start working in the houses ... phew! We'll see what that's like! ;)
Monday, February 13, 2012
Morning Tea
I had induction for my new position on Friday, and today I had my very first official day of training. I left this morning just before 7 am to make sure that I would make it on time. I was the first to arrive (arriving 30 minutes early), and I was quickly ushered into the lobby area of the building where I was told to enjoy some coffee, tea, and biscuits.
This is perhaps one of my most favorite bits of Australian professional culture. Every work place that I have been to so far, is equipped with a small kitchen, that has a sink, a hot water dispenser, and a dishwasher. The Learning Center where I'm beginning my training, is no different. You might be wondering why there is a dishwasher in just an average office building ...
Well, I was grateful for my stint at Morton Seed and Grain, which had instructed me on the appropriate cultural practices for this moment in an office kitchen. ;) Step one. Grab REAL mug from cabinet (as in ceramic ... ya, you heard me). Step two. Pour water from special hot water dispenser. Step Three. Steep Peppermint tea bag in mug. Step Four. Grab a teaspoon from the silverware drawer (yes, there's a proper silverware drawer at work, with REAL spoons, forks, knives) ... if there aren't any more tea spoons in the drawer ... look at the coffee/tea/sugar station, there is always a collection of 'already used by someone else to stir" teaspoons, that you can bravely pick out, and put in your coffee/tea for a stir. Step Five (and most important step) grab an Arnott's biscuit from the biscuit jar, for dunking purposes.
I enjoyed my tea and biscuit until people starting filing in, and our instruction began.
At 10:30 am, we broke for Morning Tea. Where everyone indulged in another 'cuppa', and a second biscuit.
At Noon, we broke for lunch.
Then, again at 2:30, we broke for Afternoon Tea. Where everyone indulged in yet another 'cuppa', and their third biscuit.
By the time I left work today, I was feeling a little bit like a hobbit ... waiting on elevensies and my fourth biscuit for the day.
But instead, I went home, and had Tea (dinner) with my roommate.
If you didn't quite catch that ... here is the Australian meal order:
Breakfast
Morning Tea - cuppa and a biscuit
Lunch
Afternoon Tea - cuppa and a biscuit (or it can be an assortment of snacks instead)
Morning Tea - cuppa and a biscuit
Lunch
Afternoon Tea - cuppa and a biscuit (or it can be an assortment of snacks instead)
Tea - (Dinner)
Below is a picture of high tea, which replaces afternoon tea, where you drink tea and eat fancy petit fours and sweets, and allow yourself to feel really fancy ... this we don't do at work ...
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Stuff Perth People Say
Alright, so this is a bit of fun! It's a youtube clip poking fun at some pretty common Perth-isms. I think that my favorite line from the clip is:
"Forty dollars for a pub steak?! ..... Ya, alright." hehe. Oh Perth!!
Hope you enjoy!
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