Dignity

There was an under-13 hiphop troupe dancing to 'My Humps' by the Black Eyed Peas. It's a catchy song with obnoxious lyrics. It was also very popular at Crown this year. This would have been the tenth time I'd heard it.

Something was badly wrong with their CD, though. It kept skipping. The girls were fantastic. They just kept going and even when it jumped a bar or two ahead, they readjusted their dancing to keep up.

Everyone was horrified at how badly it was going -- and the fact the DJ kept it going. It was torture. Usually in these situations, the DJ will stop the CD, clean it or find an alternative version, and put it back on so that the troupe can start again. But these girls kept ploughing through.

At the end, everyone cheered and clapped. It was the roar of sympathy and respect. The girls, so young and so professional, bowed and left the floor. Many of them were crying. It was the biggest competition of the year and their one chance to perform was ruined by something they couldn't control.

Later in the night, it was time for the under-16 hiphop event. According to the program, there were eleven troupes in this section. However, after the final troupe had danced, they announced a late-registered twelfth item. The under-13 troupe with the skipping CD had been allowed to dance up a level. They had a second chance!

Everyone cheered when they came onto the floor. The music streamed out clearly and they began their routine. One minute later, inexplicably, the music stopped. I whipped around to look at the DJ, shocked. This was the last thing this troupe needed. What was going on?

The girls paused, uncertain. But, from the sidelines, without skipping a beat, their friends from the dance studio were singing. They continued from where the song had stopped. 'My Humps' was the song of the month, everyone knew the lyrics. Hell, after hearing every fifth troupe dance to it, even the most pop-clueless in the room knew the lyrics.

The singing swelled as people joined in. Encouraged, the girls started dancing again. They danced the rest of the verse and a chorus before the DJ restarted the track. It was the greatest audience participation I had ever seen in a dance competition.

A Bath Story

For my last holiday adventure, Damjan and I visited a town called Bath. I highly recommend a visit here. Even though it was windy and cold, I had a really great time.

The best part of the visit was the free tour. Volunteers from the Bath community run tours of the town two or three times a day. You appreciate a town so much better when you walk around with a bit of knowledge. Bath looks like a beautiful 18th century town but our (extremely droll) guide allowed us to imagine what it was really like in the 18th century: building facades blackened with oil lamp smoke or covered with advertising, smelly streets, women with perfect coiffures infested with bugs and lice because they only washed their hair every few months.

This was the world of Jane Austen. It seemed more romantic in the books. By the way, although there is a Jane Austen Centre in Bath, she hated the place during the five years she lived there.

Something about picturesque towns seems to attract delicious food stores. Damo and I sampled quince jam in a cheese shop, chocolate and walnut fudge in a fudge shop, and a variety of European and Australian(!) olive oils and vinegars in a store called 'Oil and Vinegar'. We ate Cornish pasties (my fourth for the trip) and bought greengage jam. We drank 'Real Ale'.

I found an art store. I loved every painting in that store. There were gingerbread men and cows.

Finally, we visited the Roman Baths that Bath is famous for. We spent two hours there, wandering around with audioguides stuck to our ears.

	We took the train to Bath. We changed trains at a town called Didcot, which is an industrial town about an hour (?) west of London. Apparently, many people who can't afford to live in London have homes in Didcot and they commute to London for work.
	There were audioguides at Château de Versailles, Musée du Louvre and many other attractions. This was the first time I used an audioguide (it was included in the entry price). I was very impressed. The recordings were clear and informative. I am now more inclined to pay the extra money for these things now.
	The Roman Baths were a major historical find. See the upper terrace in the photo? That's the current-day street level of Bath. Apparently, Bath used to be six metres lower than it is now. People just kept knocking buildings down and constructing on top of them. In the 18th century, some people living in terraced houses complained that that water kept seeping into their basements. The town's chief engineer came around, dug around a bit, and lo and behold, found a huge complex of magnificent (and still functional) thermal spas!

Banana ban

Sometimes, before I go to sleep, I think of all the yummy things I could eat for breakfast the next day.

"Oh, I can try cheese and toast...I'll have some of that apple bake mum made today...I can fry an egg and tomatoes..."

But I wake up and I always crave the same thing: muesli, milk and a banana. This combination has prepared me to face the world most days for the past five or six years. But no longer.

Mum and dad came home from their weekly shopping trip with sad faces. "Joan," she said, "There will be fewer bananas." She pointed to the two lonely unripe bananas in our fruit bowl. "Those are the last ones for a while."

Since Cyclone Larry hit northern Queensland in March this year, the price of bananas has soared. Eighty percent of Australia's banana crop has been wiped out.

"They're $7 a kilo now!" Mum exclaimed.

"How much did they used to cost?" I asked.

"Well, I used to get them at the market for as low as 79 cents a kilo. The normal price was about a dollar and even the worst case was $2.99 a kilo."

I am now seeking alternative fruits to accompany my muesli but I can't imagine anything satisfactorily replacing the squishy sweet goodness of the banana.

I second that

Consultants are renowned for being expensive. If you have a senior engineering consultant come into your company to run a half day workshop, don't be surprised if you're hit with a $1500 bill, and that's not even including preparation time and travel. It's even more expensive if you ask an accountant or lawyer to do the same thing.

There's a crazy arrangement called 'secondment', where companies pay a particular consultant to work for them full time. It's like getting a new (competent) staff member except that you're paying them a lot of money per hour. It will cost you five times more to have a consultant on secondment to you than for you to hire a proper new employee. So I don't exactly understand what motivates companies to request secondees.

I'm going on secondment on Monday. I will be working from Shepparton for at least the next two months. Shepparton is about two hours north of Melbourne. I'm excited about going. I get to set up an apartment for myself and a workmate. I have the gadgets and wheels I need to do my job. I even have a generous food allowance.

I hope to organise regular internet access while I am away. The internet, even now, is a lifeline to me. I would feel lonely without you, my blog readers, my email-pals, and my Google-talk buddies.

Long distance wind

Before Damjan left, I asked people about their long distance relationships. I thought the more I knew, the better prepared I would be. I've accumulated many stories.

'A' calls her boyfriend in Canada every night. They've spent four years apart in different countries.

'T' was dumped by his girlfriend after she spent two months in Europe. She came home four months later.

'N' has managed to commute between states for a number of years and now he is to marry his girlfriend.

'C' has worked in Australia and lives with her son, while her husband lives in China. They're still a family and she hopes to be reunited in the near future.

'D' plans to do aid work in Africa for half a year. Her boyfriend has decided it's too difficult and that they will break up.

'B' went to Canada to visit his girlfriend, who was there on exchange. He came home, single.

'K' studied in Ireland for a year and throughout it, remained in the happiest relationship he's ever been in.

I don't think there is a common experience in long distance relationships. Everyone seems to cope differently.

I've had this metaphor in my head for a long time. I don't know where it comes from but I believe it. I imagine that a relationship is like a tree. Given time and the right conditions, it will grow tall and extend its roots deep into the ground.

Long distance is like the wind. The older the tree, the deeper its roots, the more chance it has to withstand the wind. A young tree, whose roots only grip the topsoil, may not survive the challenge. When the wind stops blowing, it is the older tree, the one who has seen more winters and more springs, that will remain.

Crown International dance competition

I tried my hand at action photography for the first time on Sunday at the Crown International Dance Competition, which is the biggest one day dance competition in Australia. Many styles are performed -- all the dancesport (latin, ballroom, New Vogue), plus the theatrical events (hiphop, jazz dance, ballet, modern expressive, tap, theatrical, break dancing).

I danced a theatrical piece at about 10 AM, and two hiphop pieces at around 8 or 9 PM. In between, I took some photos. It took me half an hour of random snapping for me to get an idea of the settings I needed to use.

Unfortunately, many of the photos are quite grainy because I boosted the ISO to 400, 800, even 1600 in some cases. 'This is ridiculous,' I thought a few times. 'The ISO is as high as it gets, aperture as wide as possible but it's still blurry. What are you meant to do?'

Then I looked around and all the other people with the big cameras had mega flashes. Ah! I geddit.

So if you're interested in my first attempt at sports photography or would like to see the story of a dance competition played out in pictures, have a look at my Flickr Crown International album.

Dancesport, such as this Latin American Youth Open final...

...and theatrical, such as the International Dance Organisation Australian hiphop semi-final

Stranded

I walked into the airport and looked for the check-in counter for British Airways flight 17. I quite enjoyed the BA flight from Melbourne to London three weeks ago. The flight attendants were nice.

I spent ten minutes puzzling over the information screen. Where was BA 17? It wasn't listed where it should have been, between the 9:15 PM to Dubai and 9:40 PM to Singapore. I wheeled my luggage over to the BA check-in queue, about 100 m away.

"Excuse me, could you help me find my flight?" I asked the attendant politely. "I'm on BA17."

"BA17?" She furrowed her eyebrows and pulled out a list. "BA17..."

"I can show you my ticket," I offered. I pulled out the same e-ticket I used to fly to London. She took the ticket and considered it. "I'll be right back," she said, and walked to the counter, where she conferred with two other attendants. It took her a minute or two.

"There is no BA17," she reported back. I blinked. "As of March 31st, BA no longer flies to Melbourne." I gaped.

"Oh... What do I do?"

"You can go to Sales and see if they can get you a ticket on another flight. You should probably be on the 9:40 to Singapore."

And then what?" I thought wildly. Wait at Singapore until there was a spot on a flight to Melbourne?

It wasn't as bad as that. The lady at Sales transferred me to a QANTAS flight, which departed at 10:05 PM and followed the same route as the mythical BA17 flight. It was later than I expected to be in the air so I spent the next hour trying to find a place that would accept the only currency I had (Australian dollars) in exchange for dinner.

If Jesus had Asian parents

In Paris, I went to the Musée du Louvre, which I enjoyed very much, despite not knowing or caring much about European art. If you're under 26 years old, you can visit the Louvre on Friday nights for free.

I guess I looked at 3% of the museum items in any sort of detail; the place is huge. After wandering through the sculptures, large format Italian works, Middle Eastern treasures, I finally made my way to La Gioconda or the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

I was incensed by the people taking photos of the painting, despite a sign clearly stating that no cameras were allowed.

"Hey, loser! No cameras," I wanted to say. "Idiot! The flash will reflect off the glass. Buy a postcard, it'll turn out better." Bloody tourists.

Anyway, it's a nice painting, supposedly the epitome of portrait paintings. Is it the best painting at the Louvre? Does it deserve to occupy pride of place at the most famous gallery in the world?

I dunno... it looks a little underexposed to me :)

I preferred the large format painting The Wedding at Cana by Veronese. It was right in front of the Mona Lisa so Damjan and I got to enjoy it in peace while the crowd fought to see da Vinci's work.

I love the painting because it tells a whole story in one picture. It's very big so you can see each person's expression as it dawns on them that some fellow named Jesus has performed a miracle. There are more than 130 figures in the picture, so that's a lot of painting to look at.

The painting tells the story of the first of seven miracles by Jesus, according to the Gospel of John. From the white visitor's cards at the Louvre, I read the relevant excerpt from the gospel story.

On the third day there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had likewise been invited to the celebration. At a certain point the wine ran out, and Jesus' mother told him, "They have no more wine." Jesus replied, "Woman, how does this concern of yours involve me? My hour has not yet come."

John 2:1-4

After which, Jesus's mum tells the waiters to "Do whatever he tells you". Jesus gets them to fill six jugs with water and give them to the head waiter to taste. The head waiter does so and is a bit confused that they still have really good wine. Where did the wine come from? Why did we leave the best wine to last? We usually serve it first! Hence, the confused expressions on the people in Veronese's painting.

Anyway, I thought it was funny because the conversation between Mary and Jesus sounded like:

"Jesus, we've run out of wine."
"So?"
"Come on, do that thing. You know, the water into wine thing. I know you can do it."
"Mum! Not now! I'm not ready."
"Hush, stop fussing. Just do it."

Does this sound familiar? Maybe to all of you with Asian parents out there?

"Joan, play the piano! Auntie wants to hear!"
"Mum! Not now!"
"Hush, stop fussing. Just play an exam piece."
"Stop embarrassing me!"
"Everyone! Joan's going to play the piano now!"

Hehe... No doubt, someone with a deeper understanding of John 2:1-11 can provide me a more meaningful and accurate interpretation of the passage.

Edit: I found an awesome tool. BibleGateway.com provides bible passages in a variety of versions.

The Contemporary English Version says, "Jesus replied, 'Mother, my time hasn't yet come: You must not tell me what to do.' "

The New King James Version says, "Jesus said to her, 'Woman, what does your concern have to do with Me? My hour has not yet come.' "

The Worldwide English Version says, "Jesus said, 'Woman, why are you telling me about it? It is not yet the time for me to do something.' "

Krispy Kreme vs. Boulangerie

While I was in London, Damo generously funded me a 90 pence Krispy Kreme original glazed donut. So much had been leading up to this, my first Krispy Kreme donut.

We stood in front of a Krispy Kreme stall at Victoria Station. From the three people in the queue before us:

"Can I have the large box of donuts, that one..."
"Two chocolate ice glazed, three strawberry filled, one lemon filled..."
"I'd like a dozen donuts..." (Store assistant: "For an extra two pounds, you can have six extra donuts...?")

Then I stepped forward:

"One original donut, please."

So how was it? It was tasty -- soft and not overwhelmingly sweet. Damo had a bite and said that it was the yumminess of a fresh donut, nothing unique to Krispy Kreme. And besides, it was too soft.

Does it beat mille feuille? Hell, no.

Cat has its privileges

I mentioned briefly that in England, the 'rank hath its privileges' culture appears to be alive and kicking. I can explain with the help of the following photo, which I took at a college of Oxford University.

Most of the colleges of Oxford and Cambridge that I visited had similar plans: the buildings faced inward on a big quadrangle of grass. Just to prove that Oxford and Cambridge are vastly different institutions, at Oxford these are called 'quads' and at Cambridge, they are called 'courts'.

Anyway, I digress.

It became obvious to me that the purpose of these immaculate lawns, which take up a huge space in the middle of everything, is to provide a means for the high-ranking college members to display their divine superiority; there were signs that warned, 'Keep off grass. Fellows and their guests excepted.'

There are other outrages too. I saw a building where there was one gate for 'boys' and another gate for the Warden and Fellows. When a college runs room ballots to determine which rooms students get to live in, the President of the student body gets first choice, followed by the Vice President and so on. I have also heard that it is common for student societies to be kicked out of a room they had booked well in advance -- because a Fellow has decided to have a tea party. And even crazier, did you know that there is a queen of England? I saw her palace and everything. How quaint!

Finally, I'd like to refer back to Exhibit A. Clearly, from the cat's relaxed pose, it is comfortable ignoring the 'keep off the grass' directive. Because no-one's chasing it off, I can only presume that cats in England rank very highly.

Thursday: 19°C and showers

It was raining today and I saw something I had never seen before: someone was walking around with a shower cap on!

It was pink!

I thought it was a beret!

But it was a shower cap!

Some photos from my holiday

Because I went on holiday for three weeks, I am now catching up on a lot of homework for a part time university course I do. Hence my post-holiday blog quietness. I would like to take a break from work and show you a few of my photos. These aren't chosen for any reason other than I can think of interesting captions to go with them.


There are waterfalls at Singapore Changi Airport.


Look at me, I have a big camera. Actually, on average I believe that Damo took better photos with his little camera than my big one. Which goes to show, it's not the size that counts, it's how you use it.


The streets of Cambridge.


There are many canal boats in the Oxford Canal. People live on canals and travel to the various English towns that are connected by these waterways and rivers. Perhaps this is what is considered 'assisted parallel parking'.


The Basilique du Sacré Coeur at Montmartre, Paris. Our hostel was right in front of it. There were a lot of tourists. I hate tourists -- especially those that take photos in places that are signed 'Do not take photos'.


The Arc de Triomphe should be a place of quiet reflection. I mean, one of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier mounuments is there, right? However, the five lanes of Parisian traffic roaring around it does little to promote an atmosphere of thoughtful contemplation.


The Burghers of Calais are a famous statue composition found at musée Rodin. Burghers, get it?


We ate seven crêpes in one day. Look, I'm eating so fast I've blurred out. Yes, Daniel, that's cider we're drinking.


The glass pyramid in musée du Louvre, now notorious for being the location of the Holy Grail, as described by that tome of authority and integrity, The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown (now a Major Motion Picture Starring Tom Hanks and Audrey Tautou).


There were some balls in a palace behind the Louvre.


Sigh. Isn't it romantic?


Tour Eiffel. Surprisingly, an affordable and interesting attraction. There are over 100 interpretive signs to read as you climb the Tower. I love interpretive signs.


Joan hangs out at Tour Eiffel.


Damjan commits what would be a federal offence in Australia: he tampers with Royal Mail.


People who know Damo will not be surprised to learn that we baked our own bread (really, the only option after returning from France, the land of heavenly bread, to England, the land of fish and chips).


People who know Joan will be surprised to learn that I made noodle soup -- and it was good too, except that the noodles absorbed all the soup and it eventually became soup-infused noodles.

National Public Toilet Map

Having just been travelling, I appreciate the usefulness of Australia's National Public Map, which was featured on Wikipedia's English home page today.

You can even "Register for My Toilet Map to save your trips, favourite destinations and public toilets."

Mille feuille!

Yum, yum, yum! Mmmmm. Ooooh. Mille feuille!

The boulangeries (bakeries) and patisseries of Paris are slices of heaven. We had croissants for breakfast every day and Damjan introduced me to this delicious, delicious treat called 'mille feuille'. It cost €2.25 and was made up of (from the bottom up):

• thin croissant-like sheet of pastry
  
• light, yellow custard
  
• pastry
  
• that glorious custard again
  
• pastry
  
• oh, this was the best bit -- white icing with chocolate swirls, sweet but not cloying, so perfect.

I have never had something delicious like that, where you bite it and every chew is wonderful and then it goes down your throat. Then you bite it again and you've realised that between swallowing, pausing and biting again, you had forgotten how yummy it is.

Between the two of us, we ate nine crêpes:

1. apricot confiture (apricot jam)
   
2. fraise confiture (strawberry jam)
   
3. champignon, ouef (mushrooms, egg)
   
4. jambon, gruyere (ham and gruyere cheese)
   
5. beurre, sucre, cannelle (butter, sugar, cinnamon)
   
6. Nutella, fraise confiture (Nutella, strawberry jam)
   
7. ouef, fromage (egg, cheese)
   
8. marron, chantilly (chestunut cream, whipped cream)
   
9. Grand Mariner flambée

There's much more to say, all the touristy bits beside food. I'll get back to you on that. Damo and I are baking bread at the moment. Somehow, the bread in England just doesn't satisfy after the French baguettes and flûtes. We've resorted to baking our own.

In other news, yesterday, Damjan and I went to see Les Misérables and Stomp on London's West End. Both were bloody fantastic. I was afraid Les Miz could not live up to the hype but it did. I got teary.

The most romantic city in the world

Damjan and I have been having a fine time trekking around Oxford and Cambridge. There are many old and beautiful buildings here. I'm being educated in the English notion of beauty. I've always enjoyed period dramas like Pride and Prejudice and Sherlock Holmes, when they were always 'taking a turn about the garden' and angsting in the moors. I'm seeing it for myself. Everything here is neat and graceful. There are an awful lot of lawns you aren't allowed to walk on -- unless you're high up in the university ranks. There is definitely a 'rank hath its privilege' culture here. More about this later.

Anyway, tomorrow Damjan and I are going to take the train under the English Channel and arrive in the most romantic city in the world -- Paris! Good thing we're not sick of each other yet. If we were, then I would take advantage of the latest offering from the clever people at Google: Google Romance. Damn, those Googlians think of everything.