Saturday, November 21, 2009

Timeline [Updated September 2011]

Order of events - so far!

01/16/09: Register for FSOT Written Exam
02/13/09: FSOT Written Exam
03/03/09: FSOT Written Exam notification




  • (passed with 167.02 on the multiple choice section, and a score of 8 on the essay portion)



    • 03/24/09: PN / QEP due (submitted 3/23/09)
      05/26/09: PN / QEP notification (passed!)
      06/22/09: Oral Assessment (OA) registration (set for 9/28/09)
      09/28/09: OA (passed with a 5.3 in Public Diplomacy)
      10/20/09: Physical Exam
      10/26/09: Security Interview
      11/02/09: Medical Clearance Process begun
      11/13/09: Security Clearance granted
      12/24/09: Medical Clearance granted - Merry Christmas!!!!
      01/05/10: Added to the Register - #83 out of 83 as of 1/5/10
      01/22/10: Now #95 out of 99 on Register. One step forward, two steps back...
      02/03/10: Now #85 out of 91 on Register. The mystery continues...
      02/20/10: Now #88 out of 95. Really??

      02/21/10: Registered for FSOT Written Exam Candidacy #2. Sigh.
      03/03/10: FSOT Written Exam #2
      03/24/10: FSOT Written Exam Results (passed)
      04/13/10: PNs due
      06/01/10: PN Results (passed)
      07/28/10: Oral Assessment #2, Annex 44 (passed with a 5.5 in PD)
      07/30/10: Candidacy #1 - 136/172, Candidacy #2 - 54/173
      12/20/10: Candidacy #1 - 154/209, Candidacy #2 - 57/209
      02/28/11: Candidacy #1 - 151/216, Candidacy #2 - 56/216
      04/18/11: Candidacy #1 - 156/226, Candidacy #2 - 73/226
      06/10/11: Candidacy #1 - 131/204, Candidacy #2 - 52/204

      06/15 - 07/13: Spent a month in Latvia studying Russian
      07/15/11: Language phone test for Russian
      07/15/11: Candidacy #1 - expired, Candidacy #2 - 42/191

      07/20/11: Results of Russian language phone test - PASS
      07/20/11: Add 0.4 to 5.5, get #4 on the PD list!
      08/01/11: Official offer to join the Foreign Service, 163rd A-100 class
      09/12/11: A-100 Orientation begins

      10/2011:  French language training begins
      11/2012:  Pass French language exam with 3/3 after four attempts (!)

      01/2013:  Begin tour#1 in Haiti
      01/2015:  End tour #1 in Haiti

      01/2015:  Begin Russian language training
      07/2015:  Pass Russian language exam with 2/2 after one attempt

      08/2015:  Begin tour #2 in Moldova
      08/2017:  End tour #2 in Moldova

      09/2017:  Begin tour #3 in Washington, DC in Office of Global Educational Programs in Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs
      01/2018:  Bid on NOW position as A/CAO in Baghdad, receive handshake offer for PCS to service in Iraq as of 05/2018 with no-fault curtailment

      Tuesday, October 6, 2009

      Hurry up and wait

      So now I'm fretting over the wait for the medical and security clearance. They aren't insignificant, and are - at this point - totally out of my control.

      I'm worried about some comment an old friend might make, or some stupid thing I did as a kid that might come back to haunt me. I'm worried about a medical condition of which I am currently unaware surfacing during the medical clearance process. I've gone so far as to virtually convince myself that all this blood, sweat and toil (so far no tears) will be for naught as that One Little Thing will derail the entire process for me and I'll be out on my can, never able to qualify for the Foreign Service again.

      In a way, it's much like my OA day: Long periods of stressful waiting for the inevitable short bursts of intense activity, followed by long periods of stressful waiting. It's really rather manic, and also rather maddening.

      Saturday, October 3, 2009

      The Big Day (and a bigger post!)


      So the Big Day has come and gone. It was fun. Really. I had a good time. Of course it helps that I passed the Oral Assessment, but I'm convinced that I would say it was fun even had I not advanced past the OA.

      I spent a few days in Washington, DC before my OA, scheduled for Monday September 28, 2009. I flew from the Twin Cities on Friday evening, and had a fine time in our nations capital. I've been to DC a few times before, and as this time I was traveling alone I was hoping to visit a few things my family wouldn't be as interested in and that I hadn't seen before.

      I stayed near the campus of George Washington University, about ten minutes' walk to the State Department Annex 1 where I would attend the OA on Monday. The George Washington University Inn was very nice, comfortable, clean and quiet, and not unreasonable at about $100 per night, given its proximity to the Metro, to a variety of sites, and to where I needed to be.

      By and large the weather cooperated, and I really enjoyed nice fall days walking to the White House (or rather, around it), and seeing the Holocaust Museum, the Newseum, the World War II Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and the National Archives. I also enjoyed seeing the Lincoln Memorial again, and when I ran down the steps toward the reflecting pool yelling "Jeennnnyyy!" I really had the attention of all the tourists. OK no, I didn't really do that, but I was hoping someone would. If I had done that, they would have certainly locked me up and then I would have missed my Oral Assessment, and that would just not do.


      My favorite shot of old Abe


      I spent my evenings enjoying the pleasant weather and having a nice meal, and then would spend time doing some additional walking in the city, preparing for Monday's OA, polishing my Statement of Interest, and reviewing my files. I also cased the joint to make sure I knew exactly where I was to be on Monday morning. (I highly recommend both visiting the city in advance to relax a little, and scoping out the testing location to ensure avoiding getting lost.) I don't tend to be obsessive-compulsive about anything, but my latent OCD came out of hiding to help me on Sunday night as I walked and re-walked my route, looking for a coffee shop and making certain there were no bumps in the road for Monday morning.


      The Oral Assessment

      I had set the alarm for 515 am (not significantly different from my normal work day) in order to make sure I had plenty of time to get ready for the day. In reality, I woke some time around 330 or 400, and gave up on trying to fall back to sleep some time around 430. I got ready for my day and walked to a Starbucks located inside George Washington University Hospital. Had a cup 'o joe and a breakfast thing, then walked back to my hotel. I had way more time than I had planned for, so then I packed up my backpack and got myself ready to head out. If I had gone straight there, I would have been about 40 minutes early, so I walked around a bit, watched the sun rise and stopped in the middle of the intersection of 24th and E to look fondly at the Lincoln Memorial down the block. I finally arrived at Annex 1 at about 645 (OAers are required to be there by 700).

      Annex 1 is not in any way clearly part of the State Department, but oddly all the surrounding apartment or office buildings have names like "Ambassador," "Consular" or "Diplomat." Maybe someone was trying to be clever. Upon entry into Annex 1 candidates are signed in and given a temporary ID badge, then bags are X-rayed. We weren't allowed to leave the building during the day, and everywhere we went (other than the bathroom and for about 25 minutes at lunch) we were escorted.


      After waiting in the lobby for about 20 minutes, we were taken upstairs to the Assessment Office (or some such thing). There were eleven of us all told (there was one no show; maybe s/he got lost looking for the building. We were told by the young assistant that this isn't uncommon). I don't recall everyone or each of their stories, but there were two guys from Texas (a PhD high school special ed teacher and a transportation coordinator), an older fella from Colorado (retired airline executive), a newly minted college grad from the Philadelphia area, another special ed teacher from Boston, several young women and a younger guy from the DC area, a young woman from Hong Kong, and me (high school social studies teacher in Minnesota). Of the eleven, five passed, and all five were from my Group Exercise.


      We filled out some paperwork for the first thirty minutes or so, and then waited in an anteroom (remarkably like a small waiting room at the doctor's office) until the start of the Group Exercise, which consists of three parts: The preparation phase, the presentation phase and the discussion phase. At this point, our large group was broken into two, one of six and mine of five. Each group was taken to a small room, where we were given instructions and a seat at a smallish round table, big enough for six. Each of us had one three-ring binder, a notepad and a pen and dry-erase marker for marking on the plastic cover sheets if we wished.


      In each binder was information about a fictional country. Background notes on the economy, basic history, principal players in the government, political structure and basic demographics were included. Also included was a proposal for some economic development project to be funded by the US Embassy, supporting documents in favor of and / or opposed to the project, and US country goals as well as the principal players from the US Embassy. The goal was to spend about 25 minutes preparing a six minute presentation for the others in the group, laying out the project, the advantages and disadvantages, supporters and any opposition, and then costs, both in terms of the actual cost and intangible costs like public relations or image of the US.


      Once the 25 minutes was up, four (or more) stone-faced assessors enter, clipboards in hand, and took their places around the perimeter, ready to note everything said or done. Short instructions are given, and then the presentations are allowed to begin. Each group member takes his or her turn presenting their respective projects, all the while trying to display for the assessors all the qualities (called the 13 Dimensions) needed to be an FSO. It can really be quite intimidating, but I made up my mind I was going to pretend the assessors weren't there at all.


      After all presentations were completed, some additional short instructions were given, such as how much the US Embassy had allotted for projects, and specifically that our team was to fully fund one project and partially fund at least one other project. Then a blank memo was dropped on the table, and we were to draft said memo explaining what our team had done.


      The discussion phase for my group went very well. We all worked well together, and no one was domineering or abrasive. We were cordial and cooperative, and, using our time wisely and dividing up the responsibilities fairly, we concluded by fully funding one project and partially funding two, using up all the US taxpayer money available. We were told to leave all documents, including our notes, on the table, and return to the waiting room while the next stage of our day was prepared.


      I was riding high at this point. I felt all morning long that I was going to do really well, that I would leave it all out on the table and be given a conditional offer at the end of the day. After the positive experience in the Group Exercise, I was still really stoked about how well it seemed to be going. Then came the first crash.


      There are two other parts to this OA process: The Case Management and the Structured Interview, both done individually. After a break of about 30 or 45 minutes, some of my group of 11 were taken to a computer lab to do the 90 minute Case Management, and the rest would do the SI. I was in the CM group, and I came away from the experience depressed, dejected, and utterly defeated feeling I bombed the exercise and that I should just cut my losses and go home now, saving everyone time and frustration. OK, I exaggerate a little, but I knew this hadn't gone well.


      In the CM, you are given a computer with Microsoft Word, a notepad and pen, and a larger three-ring binder than before, with quite a bit of information about a fictional country (in my case it was the same fictional country from earlier). In 90 minutes, I was to read through instructions from the Ambassador, along with many supporting documents such as emails, memorandum, work orders, budget spreadsheets and more, then create a two-page memo back to the Ambassador summarizing the basics about a conflict that existed between two or more subordinates that had developed shortly after I had arrived at the post. I was also to include recommendations and alternatives for solving this conflict. If I had another 30 minutes or so, I would have completed the CM and it might have been fine, maybe even good. However, I took too long researching and composing my summary, and was probably too wordy (shocker!). I had some basic bullet-pointed recommendations noted at the end which were going to be my finish with a flourish, but I ran out of time to make them into coherent sentences, and as a result they remained as grammatically stilted bullets that were going to puncture my dream.


      I left the computer room pretty unhappy, and really not ready to socialize or eat lunch, which was up next. The only place to eat is a Subway shop in the basement, and we were escorted there to fill our bellies and wash down our sorrows with a cold soda and a chocolate chip cookie. My only solace was that, in all my research, it seemed the CM was the Achilles heal for just about everyone, and that it was possible to pass the day while still failing one of the three exercises. Now I knew I had to rock the SI if I had any chance of passing the overall day after my miserable performance in the CM.


      We finished lunch and then I really hit the dumps as I had almost 90 minutes to sit in the waiting room with one other candidate until our turn at the SI came. I felt I could use the time to review my files and notes (which can be taken to the site, but must stay in a closet until the breaks) in order to prepare for the SI, but I couldn't stop thinking about the Case Management. Now I could see I was getting into my own head, and I needed to keep from psyching myself out. In the end, I simply decided to carefully reread the instructions for the SI given to us in our letter from the Board of Examiners, and then I would peruse a magazine, looking at the words and pictures but not actually reading anything at all. This strategy seemed to work out OK, as I calmed down and felt at least semi-prepared for the SI when my time came.


      The Structured Interview has three parts, each 20 minutes in length. There are two assessors who directly interview candidates, give no verbal feedback, and provide virtually no non-verbal feedback, all the while taking copious notes.


      In part one they ask about Experience and Motivation. Direct questions about your understanding of the job as an FSO, why you want the job, why you're qualified, et cetera. Not too hard if you've ever had a job interview of any kind in the past.


      Part two was tricky, and I couldn't wait for it to be over. It is called "Hypotheticals", and you are given a fairly complex scenario to read, after which they propose to you a twist in the story, and ask "How would you respond?" Each answer is followed by another follow-up, and another "How would you respond?" Fortunately, knowledge of the inner workings of an Embassy or the State Department are not necessary, for in fact you are being measured against the Holy Grail for FSOs, the 13 Dimensions. Really the assessors are looking for sound judgment, composure and ability to think on your feet, so if mistakes are made in the hierarchy of things, that doesn't appear to matter much. Still and all, the pictures they paint are tricky, and the ability to respond quickly and at least somewhat pragmatically is a bonus. I felt I kept repeating the same things over and over in my responses, but that didn't appear to drag me down.


      In part three the focus is on Past Behavior. Five scenarios are stated, each focusing on one of the 13 Ds. Each scenario has two options, A or B. Candidates are given a few minutes to read over all the choices, and make selections of either A or B for each. Then the assessors ask for an explanation as to why each option was chosen, based on a past experience. I felt this went really well, and that I was calm, composed, thoughtful and clear. In addition, I felt my stories really hit the mark they were asking of us, and as a bonus they hit more than just the dimension being assessed. At the end of this last 20 minute section, candidates are asked if they have anything they'd like to add, and as I was prepared for this, I added what I felt was a strong statement reiterating my desire to join the FS and why.


      My mood had recovered somewhat as a result of the SI, and while I wasn't back to my euphoric state of early in the morning (it was probably just lack of sleep, lots of coffee and adrenaline then), I felt better. No doubt some of this feeling was due to the fact that I was finished, and honestly, there was nothing more to do than wait until the assessors made their decisions.


      All eleven of us returned to the waiting room for small talk and the chance to experience one more swing of the moods as we all had the recognition that there was nothing left for us to do, that it was out of our hands. Then the mood swing began again when we were all called back to the computer room collectively, and told what to expect in the next few minutes. An assessor would come in and call out a name, and that person was to follow the assessor into one of the small interview rooms for the final decision.


      OK, this was it then. The decision was at hand, and I think we were all on pins and needles as we waited with nervous chit chat for the assessor to arrive. Finally, they began calling us out. We all waved goodbye, and said good luck as one person after another was led out. The joke going around among earlier candidates was that, if the answer was negative, a little trap door opened up in the floor and the candidate disappeared. My understanding was that, if your name was called early, this was a bad sign, and that only those remaining at the end would be those who passed. The caveat to this is that it's possible for all candidates to pass, just as it's possible all will fail. When my name was called, I was certain I had been called too early, and that as I left the room there were too many people remaining for me to have passed.


      However, as I entered the little room, I immediately noticed that there were four assessors and another candidate present. I was completely confused, as I was convinced I had not passed and then was a little miffed that they would tell me this in front of another candidate. My consternation only increased when another candidate entered the room, and as I reached to close the door for the delivery of the bad news, I was told to leave the door open, there were more coming. Now I was really confused. Ultimately, they had decided to deliver the news to us together as a group, for we had - all five of us - passed. The assessor told us it was very unusual for an entire group to pass together (he may have said it never happens, but I can't be sure as I kinda stopped hearing what he was saying).


      All five from the same group. I guess our cooperative behavior of earlier that morning paid off in ways none of us could have imagined. After a short debriefing, fingerprinting and submission of electronic security background forms, all five of us headed to Fifty-First State, a local watering hole for a few beers and collective pats on the back. As we parted ways (three lived in the area, and another had plans with friends in the area), I headed off to my hotel to drop off my gear and find a place for a good steak. I fairly glided to the Prime Rib on K Street for a nice filet and a couple glasses of Cabernet, finished off the evening with a really cheap cigar and coffee on the patio while I made the requisite phone calls home to family. I found that I could not stop smiling in wonderment that I had passed. This was what elation felt like, only experienced in the past on my wedding day and on the days my kids were born.


      As I talked to my family one last time that pleasant fall evening, I looked through the wrought iron gates of the White House, bathed in the yellow glow of artificial lighting, and reflected on the past nine months of work and waiting.


      Now the waiting would really begin, because I could do little as the medical and security clearance process can take a year or more, and then the final suitability review occurs before any actual work starts in this new adventure of mine. Hopefully it ends with an invitation to the A-100, the official start of training as a Foreign Service Officer.

      Thursday, September 24, 2009

      The Big Day

      Well, it's finally arrived. Now is when the rubber hits the road and waiting will be over - or the waiting may be just beginning!

      I leave for Washington DC to participate in the Oral Assessment on Monday, 9/28/09. The process started in January, and could be over at 500 pm Monday.

      Updates will follow next week, particularly if I pass (knock on wood)!

      Tuesday, August 25, 2009

      The longest (partial) year - so far.

      In late 2008, I made the fateful decision to give a go at the United States Foreign Service (alternately known as the diplomatic corps, and alternately again known as US Embassy staff).

      In January 2009 I registered for stage one: the Foreign Service Written Exam (insert dramatic music).

      I took the test one day in February, then received the email notification in March that I had passed! (Hurdle #1 accomplished.)

      I was then to submit written essays (known as PNQs), due in late March. I then received email notification in May that I had passed! (Hurdle #2 accomplished.)

      In June I was to register for the Oral Assessment, a one day "interview" of the type one rarely encounters if applying for just any old job (say, brain surgeon or something like that). The date was set in stone (September 28, 2009), and continues to approach with the speed of a turtle with polio. Given my available time since mid-June (summer break from teaching high school), I've spent the past weeks familiarizing myself with all things foreign service: reading books, perusing amusing blogs (unlike this one) posted by FSOs (Foreign Service Officers to the uninitiated) around the globe, and researching my little tail off to prepare for the Big Day.

      Once the Oral Assessment is complete on the afternoon of 9/28, I will have my answer. Sort of.

      If I pass, I will have acheived Hurdle #3, but Hurdles #4 - 7 (perhaps more) remain. Immediately after notification that I have passed (should I be so fortunate), I begin the Medical and Security Clearance processes, and then I must have a Final Suitability Review where my entire life is examined to determine whether all who poked and prodded through my past and present might have missed something that would disqualify me. Then I get placed on a list of eligible candidates for the Foreign Service, and then the waiting begins.

      The Medical & Security clearances can take months (maybe even a year or more), and just getting on the list is no guarantee of a job, so in reality I could be teaching for two years or more, and that's IF I pass the Oral Assessment in September. Whew.

      Needless to say it's been a long haul so far, but could very well continue into 2011 before there is closure. Or it could be over in one months' time. Not many applicants make it this far, so I feel quite proud of myself for making it this far. But as we say in baseball (or a modern political campaign): This is a marathon, not a sprint.

      Thursday, July 9, 2009

      Down Under Times volume IX

      (See: Back from the Memory Hole for an explanation of why these are posted now...)


      December 11th, 2001

      Hello again, and welcome to the final edition of the Down Under Times.

      It is with great sadness that I write these words, for they signal the end of our yearlong adventure. It truly seems as if we have just arrived, and now we must pack our bags -- all of them! -- and return to Minnesota. We have seen so much, yet there is so much left to see. I guess we will just have to return one day and visit all the places on our proverbial list, including Perth, Western Australia; the west coast and western interior; the Nullarbor Plain and a trip on the Indian-Pacific railway; perhaps a ride on the world famous Ghan rail line from Adelaide, South Australia (another place we haven't been) to the Top End, Darwin and Kakadu National Park; an Australian Rules Footy match; and on; and on; and on. And this doesn't include all the places we want to see again! It's an incredible place, really, and this has been one absolutely fabulous ride we've been on.

      Looking back over past editions of the Down Under Times, I realize with great regret (and I'm sure to your great relief), that there are many places and experiences we never shared with you, such as our trips around Victoria to places like Daylesford, Echuca, Paynesville, Bendigo, and Ballarat. Experiences like hosting a Fourth of July party here at the house for the staff at Fairhills; the sleepover Sophie's class had at Ferny Creek Primary School; my wonderful (!) and exciting (!) three nights spent at a rural camp with 150 or so Year 8 students; adventures while driving due to the mysterious lack of clearly placed street signs; etc., etc. But how can words relay all the things that we have done, all the things we encountered while here? They can't, and so we'll just have to have you over for 'tea' sometime and show you what we are able.

      I haven't had the chance to wow you with some of the unusual language we've come across. Words and phrases like "piffing yonnies"; "wanker", "wacker" and "wally"; a "slab of stubbies"; the "dog and bone"; "skinny milk"; "windcheater" and "jumper"; "bonnet" and "boot"; "panelbeaters"; "witches hats"; and a "shocking" number of others. It's all very interesting, and really makes you wonder what we say at home that baffles visitors from other parts of the world. "Fair dinkum!"

      You won't believe our children. They have literally grown several feet in the last year - Tommy is fast approaching five feet tall (not exactly, but it seems that way), and Sophie looked as much, and years older, when on stage in front of hundreds of people during her phenomenal final dance recital just yesterday. What happened to my shy little girl?? They are different people, just as we are, and have grown and changed and matured beyond their limited years. I daresay some of you will not recognize them.

      We really are mourning the fact that we have to leave. Obviously we are very excited to return home, but we would love nothing more than the opportunity to travel around another month or two, with none of those silly obligations like work and school holding us back. For those of you who are thinking that we must be enjoying a wonderfully warm summer here in the Southern Hemisphere, think again. Here in Melbourne, it fairly hasn't stopped raining for the last four months, and we've had no 30 degree days (86 F) since last autumn, so we're not basking in the heat as you might think. We have been unseasonably cold with temps around 13 degrees (55 F), and lots of clouds, fog and rain. Kate actually said it (twice), and now I'm putting it down for the record: "I never thought I'd say it, but I miss Minnesota weather". So there you are, proof that we really HAVE changed!

      Just as an added bonus, I have been compiling a list of the prices for various items while we've been here in Australia, and I have attached that as well. Take a gander over the list and next time you go shopping, see how prices compare. I have to admit to having no idea any longer what prices are like in Minnesota, but I'm sure the realization will hit me head on in just a few days. If you look over the prices, keep in mind several things.

      1. The exchange rate. Right now, one Australian dollar will get you about 52 US cents. Therefore, the temptation is to suggest that all prices on the list are essentially half price for Americans. While true for travellers, it is dangerous if one thinks that all things are inexpensive in Australia due to that. That is because of the second thing -
      2. Incomes. I have no idea what average incomes are like here in the Melbourne area. The important thing to keep in mind when comparing prices in different countries is the cost of living. If a loaf of bread in Minnesota costs one US dollar and that same bread costs two Aussie dollars, the cost of living is roughly the same. However, how much of a person's annual income it takes to purchase that loaf of bread is far more important when trying to determine the relative inexpensiveness or expensiveness of a place, and I simply don't have that information.
      3. There are 3.8 liters in one US gallon, and 2.2 pounds in one kilogram.

      The US is a different place than the one we left eleven months ago, and I have to admit to being a bit apprehensive about it all. We have no idea what most people in the US have gone through, just as most people in the US have no idea what we have experienced, either on this adventure or due to the attacks in September. It will definitely feel strange, but good I imagine, to be back on US soil after having been gone so long (although it really hasn't been all that long after all, has it?). Nonetheless, it will be good to be home. Dorothy (of Wizard of Oz fame) had it right.

      Speaking of coming home, for those of you who might be interested, here are our flight details once more. This time we have the flight number for the Northwest Airlines flight, which we didn't have last month:

      12/15 Depart Melbourne 1215pm Qantas flight #QF093
      12/15 Arrive Los Angeles 730am

      12/15 Depart Los Angeles 1140am Northwest Airlines flight #NW316
      12/15 Arrive Minneapolis 519pm

      Lastly, I must apologize. For some reason, I have become incredibly long-winded over the last year. I can't help it, so please treat me with kid gloves. I write them down more for myself and my kids than for you, although you provide a convenient outlet for my expression, and one or two of you might actually enjoy reading these things.

      Thank you all for your support this past year, have a wonderful holiday season, and we'll see you soon!

      The Panetti's Down Under




      Down Under Times Volume IX
      December 2001

      All the news that no one really needs to know, but is going to hear anyway!


      The End
      Welcome to the final edition of the Down Under Times. After spending eleven months, many dollars and a good amount of time in reflection, we have decided to close our imaginary doors and "put this paper to bed" once and for all. We hope you enjoyed your vicarious adventure Down Under -- even as we lived it -- and that you will assist us in creating even more and better memories in person after our return to Minnesota and the United States.

      Perhaps you will one day join us in our home as you are serenaded by that dynamic duo…those magical musicians…the creators of adventurous aural sensations -- Kate and Tommy Panetti! You see, Tommy has been taking guitar lessons for several months, and Kate has been learning to play the didgeridoo. Sophie has continued her dance lessons, expanding her repertoire to include tap and jazz, and she can perform a delightful dance while the sonorous strains of magnificent music grace your ears, while I sit on my butt and take it all in with you, sipping some wonderful Australian wine all the while. It should be great fun!

      The Great 2001 Election
      I'm sure you've all been waiting with bated breath for the results of the 2001 Australian federal poll, as the election is often referred to here. Well, the results are in and…(drum roll please)… the winner once again is the man with two first names…..John Howard! In case you've forgotten (and we'll excuse you if you did), he's the current Prime Minister, and his Liberal Party will maintain control of the federal Parliament, albeit by a slim margin. It's a sad day for the world of comedy that Abbott and Costello didn’t take over the reigns of governance here in Australia. What a treat that would have been! Oh well, there's always the next election.

      Things of an Unusual Nature
      Speaking of unusual things, Australia has its fair share of them besides marsupials (kangaroos, wombats and koalas, for instance) and monotremes. (The platypus and the echidna are both monotremes, mammals that lay eggs and at the same time suckle their young, and they also have one bodily orifice that functions for both excretion and reproduction. In addition, the platypus has a tail like a beaver and webbed feet like a duck, and the echidna looks like an overgrown hedgehog but has a long snout by which to use its sticky tongue to capture ants. Ain't this an interesting place?) There are some unusual things that occur during elections here as well. Here's a run down on a couple of them.

      Australia is the birthplace of the secret ballot, sometimes still referred to as the Australian ballot, which has spread around the world as the voting tool of choice. However, one of the more unusual aspects related to elections here is that Australian citizens are required by law to vote in every election. Australia, as far as I know, is the only place on the planet to have this requirement. (I have heard Sri Lanka does also, but don't know for sure.) Once a citizen reaches the age of majority (18 years old) they must vote or face a fine of fifty dollars. While this certainly removes the need for "get out the vote" campaigns, it doesn't necessarily guarantee a more educated voter. Actually, just because an Australian is required to go to the polls on Election Day and cast a ballot, it is not absolutely necessary to write anything on said ballot (this is called a "donkey vote"). Therefore this system is really the best of both worlds: It completely removes your free will when it comes to choosing whether or not to vote, but instantaneously reinstates your free will to cast an empty ballot. In addition, if an Australian citizen has never registered to vote, and has no intention of ever doing so, they can live their entire lives without voting, so in fact 'compulsory' really isn't so compulsory after all. Is this a great country, or what?

      Here is another interesting feature of Australian elections: Preferential voting. It works like this: First, you vote for everyone on a ballot, ranking him or her according to your preference. Then, if a candidate does not get an outright majority of first choice votes in an election, the candidate who had the least amount of first choice preferences cast for them is eliminated, and their votes are then redistributed among the remaining candidates until one candidate does have an outright majority. If the leading candidate still has no majority, the next to last is eliminated, and the process repeated, until an outright majority can be reached. Confused? How about a simplified example?

      Tony, Paul and Jessica are running for office, and there are 20 voters. When the election is over, Jessica has 9 votes, Paul has 6 votes and Tony has 5 votes. There is no majority, so Tony is eliminated and his five votes redistributed. If 4 of Tony's 5 votes listed Jessica as their second choice, Jessica gets those votes and Paul gets the remaining vote. Jessica will therefore win with 13 votes over second place finisher Paul, who had only 7, and Tony has been eliminated. Get it? I'm not sure I do, now that I look over that explanation.

      Undoubtedly there are other quirky things in Australian politics and elections that I know nothing about (some might argue that I actually know nothing at all, after what I just wrote), but there is one more that really intrigues me. Australia is a parliamentary democracy, a self-governing federation of six states and two territories, and has a written constitution dating from about 1901. Interestingly, however, Australia is technically still ruled by Queen Elizabeth II, who is really the Queen of Australia (at the same time as being Queen of England, among other things I'm sure), as well as head of state. Because she doesn’t exactly live down the road, she is represented here on Australian soil by a person called the Governor General, a person who is appointed by the Prime Minister and may be approved by Queen herself. Now, how exactly this could still happen, I can't say for sure, but theoretically the Governor General has the power, as the Queen's representative, to dissolve the Australian parliament if the Queen is dissatisfied (or, I suppose, if the Governor General is dissatisfied). This isn't as farfetched as it might seem, as it happened back in 1975, although some rules have been changed since then to make it more difficult. The really curious thing about the 1975 precedent was that, after the Governor General installed a favorable Prime Minister that the people of Australia did not elect, the people went ahead and confirmed the Governor General's choice when the new election was called several months later, and elected him anyway. I told you this was an interesting place!


      Splendid Isolation???
      To live in Australia for awhile is to discover that ones travel experiences are used regularly as a litmus test for knowledge and understanding of our planet, even though travel alone doesn't necessarily lead to more and better awareness of the world. Two small but personal examples leap to mind in support of this discovery. I was visiting a doctor several months ago simply to have a prescription filled. While I waited for him to find the local trade name for my medicine, he pops out with "Americans don't see or know much about the rest of the world, do they?" I sat politely in my chair and wondered to myself if I had gone into the wrong office, or that maybe I had "Insult Me" written on my forehead. I had only just met the man! Didn't my presence in his office negate this sweeping statement even a little bit? It was quite exasperating.

      The second example is perhaps even more pernicious. In one of the Melbourne newspapers (The Age) recently, a local columnist was reviewing a US television show -- a TV show! -- and she spent her entire column lambasting American international ignorance, with no small amount of specific examples from -- let me reiterate this -- a dozen or so people from a TV show. (It's apparently called The Amazing Race, in case you wondered.) The last sentence in the article expressed her "horror" that "70 percent of American politicians don't even own a passport" and that this fact explained "why so many Americans think we [Aussies] come from a landlocked European nation with a fondness for edelweiss." To begin with, I think she has her facts wrong (although I could be wrong here), and that it isn't 70 percent but 30 percent, and it isn't "all American politicians", but just US Senators (of which there are only 100 members). There is a vast difference, deplorable as it may be that 30 US Senators don't have passports. Then there is the issue (oft repeated) that Americans mix up Australia with Austria. Forgive me for suggesting that they do occasionally sound similar, particularly when spoken by an Australian, for if they have a broad accent, they pronounce the name of their country much like "Au stray ya", with the syllables all bunched together and the emphasis on the "stray" in the middle. I won't even mention the similar spelling -- oops -- guess I just did! Anyway, there are clearly some misconceptions that need clearing up, on both sides of the Pacific.

      First, let me say that there certainly are Americans who are uninformed of the "outside world", as if there is such a thing. This is an undisputed statement with which I wholly agree; which plays no small part in my motivation for being a teacher; and is undoubtedly true in every country on earth. However, to suggest that this may be of epidemic proportions in the USA (which is what happens when one prints such things in a widely read newspaper column) is a bit naïve in and of itself. For example, the above-mentioned columnist holds fast to the phrase "average American" in her article. Given that there are 280 million Americans (as compared with only 20 million Australians), it isn't terribly difficult to find an "average" American, and therefore by sheer weight of numbers, there are more "average" Americans than there are total Australians. I don't know if it's accurate or not, but given those numbers it is equally possible that there are actually more international travellers in the US than the total populations of some other countries. Of course I could be wrong. It has been known to happen.

      Second, according to a Minneapolis Star Tribune article I read just recently on the Internet, the American worker puts in more hours per year on the job than any other workers in the world do. (Perhaps this fact helps support the largest, most diverse economy on earth.) The result, of course, is that it is exceedingly difficult for Americans of an average stripe to find the time, with only two or perhaps three weeks of annual vacation (received only after a minimum of one year of work), for international travel. When top executives often get only four weeks of vacation per year, even they are limited as to where they might travel for any length of time, especially with lots of interesting places to see within our own country, and which are far more accessible.

      Lastly, and most importantly, the Australian "system" directly supports the man on the street in his quest for temporary escape to other parts of the world. Let me explain: In most areas of the Australian economic world, a concept called Long Service Leave exists, which should be (if it isn't already) the envy of the world. This is a system that directly allows employees the ability to take a long period of time off from work, with full pay. The most common explanation I have heard has it like this: If you work for the same company for 10 continuous years, you then become eligible to take up to twelve weeks of Long Service Leave (vacation) with full pay. If you wish, you may also tinker with the numbers, and take 24 weeks of Long Service Leave at 1/2 pay, or lots of other combinations that can be individually tailored and negotiated. You are then given an additional allotment of six more weeks Long Service Leave for each additional five years you stay with the company, and if you don't use this time you can bank it until you have a massive amount of leave available to you. There may be some variation on this theme depending upon the industry in which you work, but this is what I understand to be generally true.

      Two other systems exist that certainly entice Australians to travel abroad, if Long Service Leave isn't enough already. Maternity leave here is extremely generous, as a rule. It starts with twelve weeks of maternity leave with full pay, which is already a significant increase over the usual maternity leave in the US. Then, depending upon your industry, you may also be allowed twelve months unpaid leave with a guarantee to get your job back at the end. In education, it is an even more generous seven years of unpaid leave, with a guaranteed job at the end! Again, there may be some variation, but this is what I have been led to believe is true.

      The last practice that will make you green with envy is called Leave Loading. This would have Ronald Reagan and proponents of "voodoo economics" foaming at the mouth. Simply put, as an employee you are paid more money when you go on vacation in order to spur economic activity in the overall economy! My understanding is that it amounts to about 17% of your normal holiday pay (only) on top of your normal annual salary, which would amount to about $600 or $700 per year for the average worker. Theoretically you would spend this extra money and help keep the economy solvent. Australians generally look at you in utter disbelief when they discover that other parts of the world do not have such generous systems in place for the worker.

      One last note on the subject. Not quite as common as it seems to have been in the past is the practice of taking a year or two off before starting a university degree program, apparently called the "Gap Year". I have no idea how common it is with today's Australian university student, but it seems that it was quite common in days gone by. I don't know more than one or two people at home who did anything even remotely close to that, even if they could afford the time and the expense of a world wide year-long (or two) whirlwind tour.

      What does all this mean? To me it means that Australians by and large are more able to travel much greater distances for longer periods of time (particularly as compared to Americans); they have institutional support for this travel (or at least for the time off to travel); and they take advantage of the opportunity to do so. There is no question that Aussies are well-travelled people, and it is a testament to the "Aussie way of life" that there is such systemic support for such a lifestyle. For that they are to be applauded. It truly supports the notion that one should go to other places and know about other people. It also helps to explain why Aussies look askance at Americans who've never travelled abroad, or perhaps have only done a two-week trip around parts of Europe. Generally, Aussies don't seem to know that other countries don't have these same opportunities or support, and Americans often simply can't afford to do any more than the typical two-week trip around Europe, even if the exchange rate for US dollars is favorable. (Australians are keenly aware of the exchange rate, and the rate for Australian dollars has been historically low this year. Not too long ago, the rate was much closer to a 1:1 ratio, before their dollar was floated on the open market.)

      None of this excuses ignorance, mind you. That is where we come in, those of us trying desperately to teach students about the world, and to help them appreciate the big old orb of rock and water that we share. Everyone knows the old adage "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink". Well, the end result of all this is that we (teachers) are constantly trying to make horses drink when they often aren't terribly thirsty. It can be quite maddening really.

      Farewell to Fairhills
      I will truly miss the people I have come to know as my friends from Fairhills High School. They are indeed a wonderful group of people, and have made my time here more than welcome. I have many fond memories getting to know members of the faculty and staff during the year, both in the various staff rooms and outside of school. I can honestly say it would be an honor and a privilege to have any one of them stay with us in our home, should they ever decide to make a foray into Minnesota -- and I hope they know that I was absolutely truthful when I invited them all to do so. (Not all at once, mind you!)

      Fairhills is a school of about 900 students from grades 7 through 12. The standard in Australia is that primary schools cover kindergarten (called Prep here) through grade six, and high schools (almost always called "colleges" here) cover grades 7 through 12. Fairhills is located in an eastern Melbourne suburb, about 40 kilometers from the city center. It would be more than just to say that the staff here works exceedingly hard, and care a great deal about the education and general welfare of the student body. Like any school, all the blood, sweat, toil and tears meets with sometimes limited success, as there often seems to be an oversupply of not-so-thirsty horses in attendance. But also like any good school, faculty and staff continue to show up every day, do this difficult job to the best of their ability, and receive scant little praise for their efforts, all the while hoping that they might make a difference in the lives of as many of those 'horses' as possible.

      Students who wish to shine can certainly do so here, although it seems that academic and behavioral expectations (of students about themselves, not necessarily by staff) are lower than in most schools in Minnesota. A valid criticism of schools across the United States is that kids, parents and teachers are too focused on "the grade", which of course is partly done in order to help secure entrance to college one day. Here there are no cumulative grades or grade point averages, so therefore no intense focus on "the grade" as such. Similar to that US focus on grades, however, is the Australian (or Fairhills) student focus on "ticking the box", which simply means checking items off the list of things to do in order to say "I completed it", often without any real attempt at quality or to really learn the material. Obviously there are exceptions to this observation, but this is what seems to me to be prevalent.

      A few things that are not at all similar to schools in Minnesota, or even to the US in general, include a staggered end-of-year release time. At Fairhills, Seniors (year 12 students are not known as Seniors here, and neither are 11's called Juniors, or on down the list) completed their last day of class for the year on Friday 10/19, which was then followed by several weeks of intense state-wide examinations. For these Seniors, the school year ended for good on Friday 11/9, even though the school year technically runs until 12/21, six full weeks later. Juniors (or Year 11's as they are called), had their last day of class on Friday 11/9 and the final day altogether on Friday 11/23, interspersed with school-run exams. Even Sophomores (Year 10's) had their last day early, on Friday 11/23 with school-run exams for one week, ending their year on Thursday 11/29 (there was no school on Friday 11/30).

      For the remainder of the school (Years 7, 8 and 9), classes continue as normal (or as normal as they can be as a year comes to a close) until 12/10, when the "End of Year Program" begins. In some schools, this Program involves trips to the beach for surfing lessons; field trips (called "excursions" here) to the zoo or a museum; a day out at the mall for lunch and to see the latest movie; or other fun activities organized each day. Some schools use these last two weeks to "advance" students into the next grade level early. This is approximately what Fairhills is doing this year, so that my Year 8 students will gain exposure to Year 9 classes for most of the last two weeks. One difficulty with this program is simply getting the kids motivated to start something entirely new at the tail end of a year when all they seem to want is a break (that's all everyone wants!). As an added complication, the kids who move into a ninth grade math class, for example, may not actually wind up in February with the teacher they had these last two weeks, perhaps making the transition more difficult, not less so.

      The weekly schedule (called a "timetable" here, and the person in charge of organizing it is called the "Timetabler"), is quite different as well. As a teacher I only see my year 7-10 students four times per week, as opposed to five in most US high schools, and two of those class periods come in the form of a double-period. Year 11 and 12 students do meet five times, however, and generally have two double periods per week.

      Even the daily class schedule at Fairhills has at least one stark difference. Classes are scheduled to be 44 minutes in length, a fairly standard time for classes world-wide. However, when the bell rings and one class ends, the daily schedule has it that the next period has simultaneously begun, which means that everyone (teachers included) is automatically late to the next class. There is no scheduled passing time between classes, which effectively shortens every class, sometimes by up to ten minutes. Double periods are affected less, of course, because there is no break between the two periods.

      There are a relatively high number of schools per community in the area, which has the result of keeping class sizes low. As the initial cost is quite a bit lower than in a place like Minnesota where the severe winter climate demands higher construction and maintenance costs, the number of schools seems to be greater. My largest class here was 26, which was a real anomaly; most were in the lower 20's. Over and above the impact of the number of schools is the relatively high drop-out rate after Year 10. An official with DEET (no, it isn't an insect repellent - it's the state of Victoria's Department of Education, Employment and Training) told me in a meeting for the International Teachers Association that 40% of public school students leave before Year 11 begins, and the Department doesn't track where they've gone. One result is that this creates a whole class of potentially under-educated young people, although they may eventually return to some form of schooling at another stage in life. Another result is extremely low class sizes in the upper grades. My Year 11 History class had only 13 students, and a good friend and colleague here at Fairhills once taught Physics in a country school to one student! These are student-teacher ratios to die for!

      If school funding is a mystery to most Minnesotans (and I would wager that it most certainly is), the formula for funding in Australia is equally as baffling. Public schools are funded by the various states within Australia, and the amount given varies per school and by state. That is relatively easy to understand. However, one major difference here is that private schools also receive public dollars, sometimes in obscene amounts, even though these schools charge tens of thousands of dollars for tuition and school fees. A recent newspaper article in the Melbourne Herald Sun charted the private schools set to receive the most public dollars. Shockingly, a private secondary school called Wesley College charges $13,500 per year in tuition and fees, and in 2001 received $3.9 million dollars in taxpayer money. Under the current Howard government's plan, however, Wesley is scheduled to receive $8.4 million per year as of 2005! I highly doubt the tuition charged will decrease as the taxpayer subsidy increases. Wesley is just one example, but the article cites 21 other schools, all charging $10,000 plus per year, and all set to receive at least $1.0 million dollars EACH as of 2005. All this while teachers in many public government schools continue to teach in substandard portable classrooms that were built 30+ years ago and have long ago been condemned, and without first-class facilities like Olympic sized swimming pools or other luxurious amenities. Frankly, this lopsided system flies in the face of the whole notion of egalitarianism that Australia prides itself upon, and really exposes that belief as more myth than reality, particularly if one sees education as a great equalizer, as I do.

      Another vast difference between Minnesota (and, I daresay, the US as a whole) is almost the complete absence of security measures or procedures, at least like the kind we are used to. Kids are often free to wander all over the grounds of Fairhills during recess, lunch or before or after school hours. The grounds have no more than a simple Century fence around the outside, and the entire lot is accessible throughout the day and night to the general public. While individual buildings (meaning portable classrooms and the office area) do have locks, they are only truly lockable once all have left the room and the teacher locks it up. (That is, unless the teacher has left the padlock unlocked and a wayward student locks everyone inside the portable, which does occasionally happen - but not to me, of course. I was given good counsel early on to prevent such a thing.)

      The higher level of general freedom experienced by students at Fairhills does come at a price, however. The buildings are rife with graffiti and vandalism, and the grounds are fairly covered with litter most of the time. This is not the direct result of a lack of repairs or maintenance, although that is a part of it. Even when brand new garbage cans were placed around the grounds earlier in the year for the staff and students to use (which would meet with limited success anywhere kids might be), the "rubbish bins" are removed and used as backstops for pick-up games of cricket, or just stomped on and tossed in the woods. It can be quite depressing.

      Part of the problem is that, in the early 90's, the state government cut a large swath through education financing, privatizing some aspects of the educational system. One of those features was for buildings, grounds and maintenance, which is now contracted out to private small businesses. They do what they can, of course, but the repairs and maintenance needed are now quite extensive after years of neglect, and seems beyond the reach of the small family-operated cleaning business that takes care of Fairhills. We were told early in the year that the portable classrooms on campus (there are about 12 of them) had been condemned a long time ago, but there isn't the money to repair or replace them. Consequently, their condition only worsens with time and more abuse.

      It seems that some of these issues could be resolved, at least partly, if state government restored the balance that seems lacking in terms of the private / public funding matters I wrote about a bit earlier. I'm just an outsider looking it, however, so I may have the causes and solutions all wrong, but the effects certainly can't be denied.

      The Environment
      Australia is a very interesting place environmentally. It is the only country that is also a continent, contains the oldest land (geologically) on the planet, and is the driest habitable place on earth, even though it is surrounded by water. It has many United Nations World Heritage sites, and contains natural beauty and natural wonders that are really quite spectacular. While almost 20 million people live here, 90% of them occupy only 1% of the land, and so the continent is largely uninhabited. The Red Center (Alice Springs and surrounding areas) can reach temperatures well into the 120's and 130's (F), and southern Tasmania can reach 0. This is truly a place of extremes.

      One of those extremes concerns its forests and woodlands. Like any industrialized nation, the economy supports the exploitation of natural resources, and the lumber and mining industries are very important to the Australian economy. In terms of trees and forest products, however, Australia is the least wooded habitable place on earth (excluding Antarctica, obviously), yet they are the world's leading exporter of wood chips. Now, I'm not a forester or a science guy, but if a country doesn't have too many trees, how do they justify taking the little foliage they do have and chipping it into tiny pieces? Lumber I might be able to understand, but wood chips?

      As a highly environmentally sensitive place, Australia has lots of conservation minded people. Tasmania is the birthplace of the Green Party political movement, and was the first place to elect a Green Party member to public office. Many people have large tanks to collect rainwater for use in gardens and on lawns, as opposed to drawing from city service. (The Smiths have three 1000 gallon tanks, also used for bush fire protection.) Almost everyone we have met has a compost bin in their yard for recycling kitchen waste and other organic material, which is laudable. At the same time, while household recycling is common, it doesn't appear to have spread to other areas of society as easily. To take a trip into the city of Melbourne, for instance, is to not see much -- if anything -- in the way of places to dispose properly of recyclable material (cans and bottles). The amount of paper wasted at Fairhills in the process of photocopying has forests groaning, particularly when final reports (report cards) are being prepared.

      In terms of energy, Australia seems really good at building places that make efficient use of natural light, therefore theoretically lowering its reliance on electricity. Many places have lots of windows and inserted into many roofs of public buildings, as well as in private homes, skylights let in natural light. At the same time, homes are not well insulated, so any heating done to take the chill off simply dissipates through single-pane windows (the Smiths have double glazed windows, however) or through uninsulated or lightly insulated ceilings. Consequently, it feels much colder than it really should, because it is difficult (sometimes) to warm up and then stay warm.

      When it is warm outside, I have observed a colossal waste of energy as air conditioners in offices and retail stores pump out the cool air which goes straight out open windows and doors. As a result, according to the United Nations, Australia has the highest per capita output of greenhouse gasses in the world, and the figures are actually rising here while other industrialized nations show figures that are falling.

      This is not a real surprise when you see the number of older cars still on the roads (which have little or no emissions control equipment), or when you hear that most electrical generation is still produced by brown coal fired power plants, which produce large quantities of these gasses. Additionally, many personal homes utilize wood stoves to heat one or more rooms, which might smell nice in the autumn, but also adds to the environmental cost. Of course the US wastes enormous amounts of natural resources as well, and is the largest producer (overall) of greenhouse gasses, but this was something I didn't expect in such an environmentally conscious and sensitive place.

      Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (ok, maybe only Seaview Avenue)
      As well as bidding adieu to Fairhills, it is now time to say farewell to our wonderful neighbors on Seaview Avenue, and also to all our new friends here in Ferny Creek and the Dandenong Ranges. One family living here on Seaview Avenue had a rather unusual surprise in store for us. Little did we (or anyone else, apparently) know that the White family, living just four houses away on this very street, was on the exact same exchange ten years ago, only to Colorado not Minnesota. Phillip and Melinda White (and their two lovely girls, Emily and Madeline), have become somewhat like mentors to us, having undergone many of the same emotions and having had many of the same experiences as we have had these last eleven months. The benefit of their experience has proven quite helpful, as has their much appreciated assistance as we prepare to leave Ferny Creek, Victoria and Australia.

      They even threw a going away party for us several weeks ago here in the neighborhood, and also attended a farewell barbeque held at Fairhills just last week. They have indeed become valued friends, and we hope to one day return the favor when they visit Minnesota.

      It is a bittersweet time for us, having made so many wonderful friends like the Whites, the Taylor's, the Di Stefano's, the Mraz's, the Donaldson's, and so many more. And now of course it is time for us to go. Difficult as it is, we know we will see many of our new friends on our return trips to Australia some day, as well as upon their inevitable trips to Minnesota. We look forward to those days with great anticipation.

      Even more encouraging than looking forward to seeing new friends again at some indefinite time in the future is the prospect of seeing several of our new friends even sooner than that. I'm referring to our new Minnesota friends Athena and Peter Goff, our Montana friends Ed and Sherry Nissen, and our Canadian friends Alan and Maryliz Quigley, all of whom have been on the same exchange this year. We have enjoyed many meals together (particularly satisfying was Maryliz and Al's hosting of a Canadian Thanksgiving), and look forward to visits to Whitefish, Montana and London, Ontario in the near future. How different, and potentially more isolating, might this exchange have been if not for our new 'mates'.

      Potpourri
      Since I seem to have contracted "diarrhea of the keyboard" this time, I feel it is time to close this one out, but there are a few items left unresolved that I need to write about in order for me to have closure. These are rather inconsequential observations, but they are interesting idiosyncrasies about life Down Under. Here goes:

      · Hook turns: You would not believe this one until you actually experienced it for yourself. Simply put, within the city of Melbourne there are twenty or so major intersections where you must move all the way to the left lane, directly in front of cross traffic (which is stopped at a red light), in order to turn right in front of a city tram. (Remember, they drive on the other side of the road here…) If you can't picture it, I'll draw you a diagram some day.
      · Every school, town and community has what is called an "Oval". This is the Australian equivalent of the local baseball diamond in the US, yet unlike a baseball field, which actually has a diamond shape to it, ovals are anything like the shape of an oval. Mostly they are just big open playing fields.
      · Gambling: It's been said that Aussies will bet on anything -- literally. Last year alone Tasmanians spent A$1.8 billion in all types of "gaming", and they are the least populated state in Australia. Further, I was able to convince 25 or so of the staff at Fairhills to pay money for an NFL Football pool, and they know nothing about American football (called "Gridiron" here). The most astounding example is that odds were laid on the federal election, which was then reported on the well-respected national non-commercial radio station, the ABC! (Like PBS at home.)
      · "Don't fence me in…": It seems to us that Australians absolutely love to erect fences of all kinds, and often with a variety of materials (usually as part of the same fence) around their property. We surmise that there may be an innate need to keep ones property safe and enclosed when one lives in a country of such vast openness.
      · "No shoes, no shirt, no problem": Bare feet are very common here, even in supermarkets, shopping malls, sidewalk shops and cafés. Less common but also observed has been the odd male with no shirt in these same places.
      · Is it ketchup, catsup or tomato sauce?: Australians also have a love affair with ketchup (almost universally called tomato sauce, except of course at McDonald's). Unfortunately, even when at McDonald's they are quite stingy with the stuff. If you go so far as to ask for "a lot", you will be lucky to get two packets. If you ask for "lots and lots and lots", you might just get four. There is no such thing as the bottomless vat of ketchup, even at Mac's.
      · The anti-smoking lobby seems to have lost the battle here. It seems far more common here than I can ever remember it being in the US, especially in Minnesota.
      · People in the Dandenongs appear to have a peculiar sort of fondness for poultry. Everyone - ok, not everyone, but many people own ducks, geese and chickens here in the hills. All of them of course penned in by more fences. The idea, I hear, is to keep the family in constant supply of fresh eggs.
      · Speaking of eggs, if one doesn't have a handy fowl to produce eggs, one gets them from the supermarket, just like anywhere else on the planet. However, those eggs in the supermarket here are generally not refrigerated, and while they technically don't have to be, it did strike this American as a bit funny at first.
      · Rekon yur a gud spella?: If Australians spell labor with a 'u', why is the national political party spelled as the 'Australian Labor Party'? If 'centre', why not 'entre' for the way into something? If a basic unit of measurement is spelled 'metre', is the machine in which you place your coins when you park your car called a 'parking metre'? Just thought I'd ask.
      · "What did you call me???": Some of you may be familiar with a brand of kitchen matches called Red Heads, made somewhere in Europe, I think. There is a man here by the name of Dick Smith who years ago started his own company to protect Australian business from the globalization machine, and the name of the company takes his name. Interestingly, he has quite a sense of humor, as he markets his own brand of generic red-tipped kitchen matches, and guess what he calls them? Why, Dick Heads, of course!

      Au Revoir!
      We have been given a great gift, those of us on this exchange - the opportunity to live and breath life in another culture (similar as they are sometimes), and to take in all that we can in the relatively short time of our exchange. The gift to essentially step out of our own lives and into the lives of another, with the comfort and security of knowing that our "old" lives are there waiting for us upon our return, changed as we may be for this experience. We have seen so many things of such a spectacular nature here in Australia, that it truly boggles the mind.

      And in the end (as it turns out), we’re not really that different after all. Most of us live our lives as best as we can, enjoying our time with family and friends and raising our kids to be upstanding citizens of our respective nations. We teach to the best of our ability, and while the systems and structures by which we accomplish these tasks may vary according to country, state or even school, the ultimate goal is the same no matter where you are: we want to be happy and safe and live our lives to the fullest, and pass along those universal values to future generations. You might reasonably ask the question: "You had to go all the way to Australia to discover that?!?!" To that I would reply, wouldn't you if given the chance?

      This experience has been so much more than a simple 'vacation'. Nothing in the world can compare to it, and it has changed us all in ways which we may not even yet know. If it is done well, it becomes a chance not only to learn about another country and culture, but about ones self. A chance to learn more about who you are and how you fit into the whole scheme of things. It forces you to think deeply about your own country, for people ask you questions that you may never have considered before, and you need to be able to answer them, and sometimes you struggle with the truth behind those answers. In a democratic society, we should all do these things more regularly, for it keeps us on our toes and keeps the dialogue vibrant and stimulating.


      ______________________________


      We leave here now happy in the knowledge that we have experienced things few Americans -- no, few people -- have ever experienced. We have seen and travelled and met as many people as we could over the past eleven months, and now we have new friends in another country half-way around the world. In our case, we have a surrogate family, too (Mum and Muzz, the mother and brother of our exchange partner Rowan). We have lived life to its fullest, and made the absolute most of our time here. And now it's time to go home. What could be better than that, I ask you?


      "I'm dreaming tonight,
      of a place I know,
      even more than I usually do.
      And although I know,
      It's a long road back,
      I promise you -- I'll be home for Christmas…"



      Wednesday, July 8, 2009

      Down Under Times volume VIII

      (See: Back from the Memory Hole for an explanation of why these are posted now...)


      October 31, 2001

      Happy Halloween and welcome to the eighth edition of the Down Under Times.

      Before you embark on your vicarious adventure Down Under, I would like to say a word or two about the current crisis back home and in Afghanistan. These are serious times, and I hope no one takes offence at the light-hearted nature of our newsletter. We are regularly hit with bouts of guilt and helplessness when we realize that we are here in Australia, relatively safe from the many current threats that have spread across America.

      Friends of ours have been criticized by others for "vacationing" while the country is in crisis, making comments such as "glad you are able to go off and have fun while we live here in fear", or something to that effect. While the resentment is understandable, I think it is short-sighted. Those of us on this exchange have had these plans in the works for a long time, and circumstances make it difficult to back out without serious economic impact. At the same time, as we all know or have heard, to sit at home and brood is to give in to the fear the terrorists live for, and many of us will not go down that road, even if we aren't terribly at risk or susceptible here, 12000 miles from the US.

      Having said that, I found it quite distressing to fly so soon after the attacks in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. The sweat glands were working overtime. Everyone has become a potential terrorist, everyone is suspect. The attacks have made us into suspicious people right now, who watch every plane over every city half expecting to see them veer in toward a new "target", like the Sydney Opera House (where we might just happen to have been standing), or into some other landmark. There is nothing reasonable you can say to a seven-year-old when she says "What if there are bad guys on the plane, Daddy?" or "What if a plane crashes into it?" as we stood in the observation deck of the AMP Tower several hundred feet above the streets in Sydney.

      Still, we can't hole up in the house and never come out, and these recent tragedies haven't spelled the end of fun or amusement for millions of people around the world, so maybe this is actually a good time to consider that we should have more fun, not less. As the old saying goes, "No one ever muttered on their death bed that they wished they would have spent more time at the office".

      Please take care of yourselves and your families. Enjoy your time together, and enjoy the upcoming season of Thanksgiving. We do indeed have an awful lot to be thankful for, even if it doesn't always seem like it.
      Hope to hear from you soon, and we'll see some of you in a mere seven weeks!
      Dave


      Down Under Times Volume VIII
      October 2001
      All the news that no one really needs to know, but is going to hear anyway!

      Warning!
      Your subscription to the Down Under Times is about to expire! According to our records, you have one (or maybe two at the most) issues remaining - but there is nothing you can do to prevent the expiration of your subscription, so smile and have a nice day!

      The Last Hurrah
      We have recently returned from our last two-week holiday of the year. While reviewing past issues of the Down Under Times, it came to our attention that you might perceive that all we do is travel - not true! Sometimes we vacation, and when we're not vacationing, we're on holiday!

      Ok, that's an exaggeration. Of course we have a fairly normal life here, despite regularly recurring bouts of guilt for travelling and having fun while our country is in conflict. Our weekends away and the two-week vacations have been so spectacular, however, that they have completely dominated our correspondence. This time was no exception, as we traveled to Sydney and other areas of New South Wales.

      On Names…
      Dave has always been fascinated by maps and place-names, and Australia has some particularly (peculiarly??) interesting ones. Let's start at home, shall we?

      We live in Ferny Creek, a rather self-explanatory name actually. The house is on Seaview Avenue, yet is approximately 45 kilometers from the nearest drop of sea water. It seems to us a most unlikely name for a street so far from the sea, and one in which an actual view of the sea is so remote. It is possible, we suppose, to catch a glimpse of the sea through the trees from a rooftop on the high side of the street, but then you would have to battle the city haze in order to make it out - but we have to admit it is possible, and on a clear day, even probable. As usual in these matters, however, no one asked us our opinion when the street was named.

      We left our lovely sea view for our last destination, the East-coast State of New South Wales. Along about the time Captain Cook landed in Botany Bay south of what we now know as Sydney in 1770, he and his crew declared the land for Great Britain and named it New South Wales. The problem arises in the "New" and the "South". There is a Wales, which makes sense, but no South Wales, and hence no reason to call the newly explored place New South Wales. However, that is what it was, and still is, called, so there you are.

      Let's fast-forward a bit to the post-Sydney part of the trip, as long as we are on the topic of names. After five nights in Sydney, we drove along the long, undulating ribbon of concrete and asphalt (known as "bitumen" here, and pronounced like "bit chumen") called the Pacific Highway to our next stop called Nelson Bay. Then we drove the highway again another several hundred kilometers to Coff's Harbor. Problem was, while driving many hours on the Pacific Highway, we saw nary a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean. Not once. (Unless you count the appendage called Port Stephen's, which is where Nelson Bay is located - but it is not directly on the Pacific Highway anyway.) Undoubtedly the road must come near the ocean at some point, but we surely never saw it!

      There is also a plethora of unusual, some might even say humorous, names that we have come across in our travels so far. Just a sample of a few: Warrnambool and Wanthaggi, Victoria; Burpengary, Queensland (a personal favorite); and on this particular trip to New South Wales, Coolongolook Creek, Blackbutts Road, Dead Man's Creek, Man Arm Creek, Crowdy Head, Scott's Head, Little Head, Broken Head, Bobbin Head, Hat Head National Park and Booti Booti National Park. Certainly there must be some that are even more unusual, but you get the idea.

      Sydney
      Sydney is the capital city of New South Wales, and has a population of about five million. Intellectually, we're sure everyone knows that Sydney exists. However, it is one of those cities that you hear about often, and you're sure it's quite interesting, but you never really know much about it until you get there, and then - wow! - is it cool! Sydney Harbor dominates everything in the city center, and can be seen from just about everywhere. It is also extremely busy with boat and ferry traffic, yet appears surprisingly clean.

      One of the trendiest places in Sydney is called The Rocks, and is located just off Sydney Cove and Circular Quay, which is the place where the First Fleet came ashore back in 1788 with its cargo of prisoners to settle the 18-years-young colony. Now, of course, it is filled with shops, boutiques, restaurants and hotels. This is where we stayed for our five nights in this wonderful, beautiful city, right in the middle of the action.

      There was so much to see and do while in Sydney, we couldn't possible describe it all. Instead, we'll focus on a few highlights of our stay.

      The Sydney Opera House
      Our first day in the city, we had a lovely lunch in the shadow of the world famous Sydney Opera House. This must be the most photographed building in the world, and we personally took at least 25 photos of it from all possible angles. It is truly remarkable.

      The next day we toured the Opera House, and learned more than we thought possible about this wonderfully quirky and unique building.

      The architect was a Dane by the name of JØrn Utzon, who has the distinction of not only designing the Opera House, but of never visiting the site before winning the design competition, as well as never actually seeing his masterpiece in person once it was completed. (He left Australia in a huff mid-construction, and local architects took over the project, seeing it through to completion.)

      The building was budgeted to cost $7 million dollars and was to take 4 years to build. It opened in 1973 in a ceremony by Her Majesty the Queen of England and Australia, a little later than planned and slightly over budget: it took 14 years and $102 million to complete, mostly due to contradictory planning between the state Liberal and Labor governments, who kept unseating one another during construction and reconfiguring the design, the budget, and specifics of the original plans. No doubt this spurred Utzon's early departure.

      The land the Opera House sits on was originally a special meeting-place for Aboriginals in pre-colonial times, and later became a tram yard for repairs and storage of Sydney streetcars. Contrary to popular belief (we say that a lot here), it is really five theaters, not just one. The outside "shells" were not intended to look like sails, as many think, but are really just parts of the same sphere. They were, perhaps obviously, the most difficult design features of the building, and while peeling an orange one day, Utzon came up with the solution.

      Imagine if you will, holding a ball in your hand. If you drew lines away from a central point to form triangles on the surface, and then could cut into the ball towards its center, you would have three-dimensional pieces that fit together like a puzzle. This is what Utzon did, and the result is breathtaking. All the pieces that form the roof system were made as if they came from the same sphere, and therefore could be prefabricated from the same molds, just in different sizes, and their design would withstand the occasionally severe winds that sweep in from the nearby ocean. A truly impressive feat.

      Each of the "shells" really is two separate structures: the free-standing, shell-like roof, and inside the shell, a separate building that actually houses the theater itself. Neither one ever touches or is attached to the other. The supports that hold the shells are made up of more than 2200 concrete blocks, and the roof is covered in more than 1.1 million self-cleaning ceramic tiles.

      A Gothic Cathedral in Utzon's native Denmark (apparently where Shakespeare's Hamlet was first staged) provided him with inspiration for the interior design, and Mayan temples gave him the inspiration for the use of hundreds of steps, both inside and out. While on our tour, we heard part of a rehearsal of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, and it was a tantalizing teaser for what it must be like to witness a full-fledged concert in this wonderful hall. Our guide told us that the London Times produced a poll several years ago, and 95% of the people named the Sydney Opera House as the 8th Modern Wonder of the World. We think so too.

      Darling Harbor
      We took one of the omnipresent harbor ferries to Darling Harbor, perhaps less well-known, but an equally important and busy finger of water that forms Port Jackson (the body of water where lies Sydney).

      Darling Harbor is filled with shops, places to go and things to do. There is an area of retailers that really seemed like it could be any old mall anywhere (but for the harbor just outside the windows); nevertheless, it was a really great place to spend a few hours. There is a wonderful, clean and well-kept playground area for kids of all ages (Tom and Sophie still love these), and several fountains that are very pedestrian-friendly (Tom and Sophie love these as well) along the esplanade near the harbor. A short walk away is an IMAX theater, a wonderfully outfitted Chinese garden (we skipped this, as we had been to a similar one just recently), and the raised monorail that travels around, and above, this part of the city (that was rather amusing). A bit farther along is Chinatown, complete with the rather incongruously named "Paddy's Market" - the Queen Victoria Market of Sydney, although all indoors and under a modern shopping center. We returned to Chinatown for some excellent potstickers at a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

      As we were being tourists for the day, we did some rather touristy things. One of them was visiting the AMP Tower, the tallest structure in Sydney, offering great views out to the ocean and as far west as Homebush Bay, the site of the 2000 Olympiad, not to mention all the nooks and crannies of the harbor itself. It wasn't the tower or the views so much as the attractions on the first level that were intriguing. A wonderful little multimedia presentation awaited us; complete with holographic images of little Australian people projected onto glass and about 1/20 normal size. As we sat strapped in our seats, these little people moved and jumped and drove cars, perfectly coordinated with the props inside the viewing area, and introduced all visitors to the wonders of Australia.

      Then it was off to a ride, of sorts, where we again were strapped in and shuttled off all over the country, as the visuals were displayed on six large screens for 180 degrees of viewing and we were rocked and rolled in our seats. It was well presented, and was a very informative hour and a half. We did go to the observation level of the tower, but didn't stay long for a number of reasons, at least one of which might be obvious.

      One of the more interesting sights we took in while on this side of the city was the Soviet Union's space shuttle, the Buryan (it means 'snowstorm' in Russian). As it turns out, when the USSR collapsed in 1991, the Buryan went into storage outside of Moscow, where it remained until 1999. At that point, a private corporation was formed to ship it here to Australia, of all places, where it will remain on exhibit until eventually, it will move to a new country for display (speculation is Singapore).

      Oddly enough, the shipping company used to transport this massive reusable space craft (all the way from Sweden) turns out to be the very same company using the very same ship that has been in the news quite a lot here in Australia lately. The boat is the Tampa, and is the source of some controversy here as the boat that houses 400-odd Iraqi asylum seekers and refugees, hoping to come ashore here in Australia. The government isn't allowing this but instead is opting to send these people to a little island nation called Nauru, several hundred miles off shore. Quite the coincidence, really.

      Da Bridge
      I had to do it - really, I did. It took about three hours all told, and as kids aren't allowed, Kate wasn't particularly interested and the place doesn't offer child-care, I did it alone. After all, it is entirely possible that I will never be in Sydney again (although I hope not), so I felt I had to make the best of my time here right now. I refer to the climbing of the Sydney Harbor Bridge. I felt an obligation not to climb Uluru (due to its sacredness), when we were in central Australia in April, but I had no such compulsion this time. After all, this was just a bridge…but what a bridge it is!

      It was a rather gray day, but warm and not too breezy, so altogether a rather perfect time for climbing. The summit (as it is so blithely called) offers absolutely amazing views of the city, the harbor, the Opera House, and all in all, views of about 50 miles in every direction, maybe more on a really clear day. A truly spectacular way to see this most attractive city.

      Now I'll bore you with some amazing statistics:
      · It contains six million rivets;
      · When hot, the road deck can rise a approximately 42 centimeters;
      · When hot, the bridge itself (!) can rise approximately 17 centimeters;
      · The road carries 200,000 cars per day over the harbor;
      · The 'summit' is 134 meters over the water, exactly twice the height of the largest 'sail' of the Opera House;
      · 16 men died while building the bridge;
      · It opened in 1932 (1998 for climbing), and was known among the workers as "the Iron Lung" because it kept so many families alive during the Depression;
      And possibly the most impressive (or at least my favorite) fact: Paul Hogan (Crocodile Dundee) was once employed as a bridge painter.

      A little quirk regarding the bridge climb is that you are only allowed to walk halfway over the harbor on the structure itself before turning around and coming back. Apparently 16 separate government and regulatory agencies govern the bridge, which connects Sydney proper with North Sydney (just over 1000 meters away), and the company that operates the climb couldn't get the authority for climbers to go the complete length of the bridge and into North Sydney!

      Once I completed the climb (it was 100% safe, by the way), our Minnesota friends Pete and Athena Goff joined us for a walk around Circular Quay and a bottle of wine in the shadow of the Sydney Opera House. Quite a way to spend a day!


      A Nod to the Good 'ol USA
      We couldn't resist it. After a year (almost) without anything like good Mexican food (well ok, twice), we saw the shining beacon of what must be the only Taco Bell in Australia. Now, I am the first to admit that Taco Bell is not real Mexican food, but when you're used to having it once in awhile, and haven't had it in almost a year, it sure tastes good! (They looked at us real funny when we asked for refried beans, though - they don't offer them, and called them 'mushy beans', or some approximation of that.) What a shocking treat!

      Just to top off our All-American exit from Sydney, we hit one of two Starbucks in town. Apparently, the day we were there was coincidentally the same day that the first-ever Starbucks in Melbourne opened. We look forward to a visit….

      Port Stephens and Nelson's Bay
      Sadly, we left Sydney for points north (along the already discussed Pacific Highway), and arrived in our new destination, Nelson's Bay.

      Due to the collapse of the Australian airline Ansett several weeks earlier, many people from New South Wales were driving to closer destinations, Nelson's Bay included. Together with the first weekend of the school holiday, and the state's Labor Day, the town was teeming with people.

      Our hotel was packed to the hilt, and thanks to some rather unpleasant neighbors who partied until the wee hours of the morning, we got almost no sleep our first night. They left the next day, as did many other travellers, and it was quiet once again. Tom and Sophie met a nice little girl from suburban Sydney, and have since talked on the phone and received a post card from her after our return. She has an aunt in Minnesota (it's a small world, after all), and the next time they visit, they're sure to come and see us.

      We took a dolphin watching tour on the body of water where Nelson's Bay is located, called Port Stephens. We roughed it a bit with cold (relatively speaking) gale force winds to see a small pod of six to eight dolphins frolicking in the even colder water, and heard over the radio of whale sightings just outside the bay.

      The area reminded us a bit of the Door County peninsula in eastern Wisconsin, with marinas and resorts and little shops and restaurants. Other than the dolphins, whales and the nearby Hunter Valley wine region, it felt just like home. We did take a day trip out to the Hunter Valley, although we only visited two or three wineries, as Tommy and Sophie were keen to get back to the nice warm pool at the hotel. The rest of the valley will have to await our return!

      Coff's Harbor and the Big Banana
      Another six hours up the Pacific Coast Highway and we arrived at our northern most destination, Coff's Harbor. (A few more hours in the car and we could have returned to Queensland, sight of our July vacation.) It sits in the midst of a tropical fruit-growing region, as the "Big Banana" name might imply.

      While there, we hit two major attractions as well as two Hollywood movies for the kids in the evenings.

      The first was called the Pet Porpoise Pool, which (obviously) specializes in marine mammals like dolphins, porpoises, seals and sea lions. It wasn't altogether a bad value for the money, and the animals seemed rather well cared for, unlike some wild animal parks we've seen. Tommy and Sophie were able to "shake hands / fins" with a dolphin, and Tommy brushed the teeth of one as well. He also fed calamari to a very friendly, very large sea lion, and Kate fed a dolphin as it leaped about 10 feet over the surface of the pool, which was really quite cool (except she didn't get wet).

      While there, we met a very nice family with four kids from Kalamazoo, Michigan, although they currently live in Sydney while the father works for Kellogg's. After our morning at the Pet Porpoise Pool, we said our goodbyes, parted with the hope that we might see one another around the area in the next few days, and went off for a nice picnic lunch along the seashore. Then it was off to the main attraction, the Big Banana, which is (not unexpectedly) a banana farm.

      Upon our arrival, we did in fact bump into our new friends the McGuires, and together we spent the next several hours touring around a banana plantation-cum-amusement park and indoor snow ski area. (Interesting combination, don't you think?) It's amazing what you can learn if you visit some of these places; for example we had our world rocked as we discovered, much to our surprise, that the banana plant is really an herb that is a member of the grass family (!), and the banana itself is simply the fruit of the plant. While bananas have only been in Australia for the past 100 years or so, they exist in the historical record back to 600 or 700 BC! Amazing!

      We spent the next day lolling by the pool, having a pool-side lunch in the company of little lizards that literally ran over our toes, and winning a trivia contest for the hard won prize of a cold Victoria Bitter at our new friends lovely resort. It was a great way to finish off our trip north. We now look forward to a trip to Kalamazoo to visit our new friends, and their dog Winston. (This is important because Kate already had plans for the same kind of dog (golden retriever) with the same name!)

      On the Road to Woy Woy
      Before we were to fly out of Sydney and back to Melbourne, we scheduled a stop in the thriving metropolis of Woy Woy, New South Wales. (Actually, it was just to break up the trip back south to Sydney - there isn't much thriving in Woy Woy, although it is a nice town).

      As we drove, we reached the lovely little town of Port Macquarie, named (along with 832 other geographical place names, a major bank and a national dictionary, among other things) after the Scotsman Lachlan Macquarie, one of early Australia's first governors. We lunched in an idyllic setting, with a beautiful blue sky and a high sun complementing a quaint little beachfront. The only fly in the ointment was the rally occurring just in the park next to where we planned to eat.

      In the shadow of the ANZAC memorial, dedicated to the war dead from the town of Port Macquarie, and just around the corner from McDonald's, Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors and an unloading Coca-Cola truck, "Concerned Citizens for Peace" were gathered, breaking the peace by making a wee bit of noise. Mostly, the noise had a distinctly anti-war tone, coupled with a distinctly anti-American feeling. Sometimes subtle, sometimes not, individuals spoke out against the impending US-led retaliation (which had not yet started at the time) and in support for innocent Afghan civilians and the looming refugee crisis that would no doubt accompany it. We are as certain as we could possibly be that we were the only Americans in the crowd, and although we didn't stay long (we hadn't eaten lunch yet), we heard enough.

      I don't claim to have the answers, and I'm in favor of peace as much as the next guy, but to suggest that the United States and our allies should do nothing, or should just shrug this off and work to give food or other aid to those who sheltered the terrorists is a slightly naive position. Should the US have aided Afghanistan in different ways 20 years ago? Perhaps, but that cannot be changed now, and that was at the height of the Cold War. Through that lens (of the Cold War, that is), the actions of the US 20 years ago were focussed on stopping the spread of communism. I think we need to understand that the world would be a significantly different place had the Cold War turned out differently.

      We enjoyed our lunch, and headed for Woy Woy.

      Who's on First?
      As we close out this penultimate edition (and longest, by far - sorry for that!), let us mention a rather interesting phenomenon that is about to occur here in Australia - a federal election, to be held on November 10th.

      This may not be terribly interesting outside the continent of Australia or the region surrounding it - but for one humorous possibility. The current Prime Minister is John Howard, a member of the Liberal Party (which, oddly enough, isn't really all that liberal), and he has in his administration two fellows with rather out of the ordinary names. Now I grant you, just exactly the right circumstances would have to take place (perhaps involving the stray passing of an unknown comet or something), but if John Howard does not win his election yet the Liberal Party continues to hold the majority in Parliament, the current Federal Finance Minister Peter Costello could become the next Prime Minister. All by itself, nothing to write home about, unless of course his second in command should be the current Federal Workplace Relations Minister, who goes by the name of Tony Abbott. How exactly this might happen I can't be sure, but boy would it make our last month here interesting! Abbott and Costello could even grab more headlines than a former professional rassler / Hollywood film star / state governor might!

      "This is the end, my friend…"
      Well, you've wasted another perfectly good thirty minutes of your life reading about ours, although we're glad you did. As you may already be aware, we are coming home to the United States a bit earlier than previously expected, due to the lack of available seats on any flight from Los Angeles to Minneapolis in the few days before Christmas. With that information, I approached my principal here with our dilemma, and he suggested that if we could find seats on a flight on an earlier date, he would check to see if I could be released early, and that is exactly what has happened. Below you will find our itinerary for the last gasp of our journey, the flight home.

      For those of you in the area, it would be fantastic to see you at the airport upon our arrival, but under the circumstances of tighter than ever security and the fact that we would not be likely to spend a lot of time together right then and there, we certainly will understand if you are not present. Having said that, we are looking forward to spending time together after the holidays. It's been a long haul, and we look forward to seeing all of you.

      Here are the specs:

      Depart 1215 PM Melbourne 12/15/01
      Qantas Flight 93
      Arrive 730AM Los Angeles 12/15/01

      Depart 1140AM Los Angeles 12/15/01
      Northwest Airlines Flight ???
      Arrive 519PM Minneapolis 12/15/01


      See you soon!
      Kate, Dave, Tommy and Sophie Panetti