Poverty is Relative

How come so soon after having returned from a developing country, where people seem to live on so little, I am back to whingeing about being poor?

I was having a little moment this morning of browsing possible holidays for a couple of weeks over January. I don't want much, just a road trip around Tassie or maybe campervanning around NZ on the cheap - but we just can't afford it. So I'm feeling sorry for myself because we are a single-income household and can't afford to go somewhere good over the Christmas holiday break. Boo hoo, poor me.

I know there are people out there who don't have enough to eat. I know there are people, even in our supposedly wealthy country, who can't afford a meal or shelter for themselves. I know how fucking lucky I am, I really do. We may be a single income household for the moment but it won't last forever (I hope!), and in the meantime we can afford our rent and the bills, with enough left over for a nice bottle of wine every now and then. We, unlike many people, are not in any debt - no compulsory mortgage, loan or credit card repayments. Not only do we manage to make ends meet, but we are comfotable without luxury.

So why, oh why do I feel so damn sorry for myself because I can't afford a summer holiday?

Wheels

I'm trying to find a decent second-hand car. It's harder than I thought it would be, and I didn't expect it to be easy! I could spend the rest of this post giving the reasons why, and telling you how, it's been a pain, but I can't be assed, it's just too depressing.

My dad drove down from Singleton - a 6-hour drive -to help me look around, so I took the day off work and off we went. Part of me feels lame for needing my dad to help me out like this, but realistically I know that that older male presence carries weight. I had one bloke at a dealership (Geez I hate used car dealerships!) talking to me in baby talk before he saw I was accompanied by a man the same age as him. "We don't have any ummm cars, we've solded all the ummm cars alweady". Set my teeth on edges and made me want to tell him to fuck off then and there. We stood through the sales prattle, though. He had gone to all the trouble to peel his arse off his vinyl chair in his air-conditioned office after all, it seemed the least we could do.

I wish I didn't need a car. Mostly I ride my bike around, but there's times when you need a car - like lugging bales of pea straw or large pots from the garden centre, for example. And I can't help it, I love the freedom of just being able to go off for the weekend (or longer) on a camping adventure.

My other set of wheels is an old Raleigh mock-mountain bike. I say "mock" because it has a little sticker that reads THIS BICYCLE IS NOT DESIGNED FOR OFF-ROAD USE. Not that it's stopped me or the bike - we've done the Gibb River Road in WA together! My bike and I go way back - way back to the Year 2000, anyway. It was my main form of transport for a couple of years, until I got hit by a car in Sydney late 2002, after that I didn't ride much anymore. Not until I got to Tonga, and now I'm back on board in full swing - I even have lycra shorts!

I'm also contemplating a new set of different wheels - a pair of roller-skates! I'd like to give roller derby a go, but until I can stump up enough cash for a decent set of indoor quad skates I think I'll be stuck with the old Starfire 500's, the "artistic" white boot skate, complete with heel and glittery red wheels! I gave them a go last weekend, around Centennial Park with a friend, and geez it was fun! That night I went to sleep with the feel of tarmac rolling by under my feet.

So I guess I can make do with the wheels I've got - both 2-wheeled and 8-wheeled varieties - until something comes up that fits the bill with 4 wheels.

Little Blog Lost

This blog never started as a travel blog, though it seemed to hit its stride while I was in Tonga. Now that I'm back, the last three months of silence seem to speak for themselves. But unlike some of my fellow bloggers, I had no plans to retire She Who Hesitates is Lost upon my return. It's just been finding stuff that's interesting enough to blog about that's been the problem!

Last night I had a bit of a rant to C about how much bullshit I sometimes feel surrounded by. Like, yesterday I actually had a conversation with a group of intelligent, articulate women about SHAMPOOING HAIR! That's right - we talked about how often one should or shouldn't wash hair, how to manage that greasy feeling, and blah blah blah. For real.

I'm not much of a conspiracy theorest, but sometimes I think that getting women (ok, a lot of men feel like this too these days, with the advent of metrosexual expectations and - hey! - the identification of another ready market) to spend time obsessing about appearance and other superficialities is a good way to distract us all from getting on with living and actually achieveing anything worthwhile. Because - newsflash! - deciding whether to wash every day or every second day is NOT living.

I have been shocked to suddenly wake up and see what I'm surrounded by. It seems insecurity is the new normal - when did that happen? Why do so many girls love the Twilight books? Is it because the protagonist is so fucked up and insecure that they finally have a 'heroine' they can identify with? When did we stop wanting to identify with strong female characters, and start buying books by the truckload about whiny insecure bitches who spend MONTHS of their lives obsessing over a guy who left them, because - in their mind - they were not good enough? STFU Bella, I'm talking 'bout you!

For the record, I enjoyed reading the series, but I did spend a lot of the time I did so wishing I could shake the stupid right out of Bella's head. For what it's worth, I was so glad when in Book 4 (spoiler alert!) she finally becomes a vampire so she can stop whingeing about how she's not worthy. Girls, this is NOT a lesson you should be learning! Oh, and every time a vampire sparkles, God kills a puppy!

Tonga: A Post-Script

I just wanted to do a final (? Maybe not!) post on Tonga, now that I've been back for a while - 2 1/2 months, in fact!

It's funy some of the things that have changed. I find myself feeling restless to explore more of Australia, but the urge to go overseas is pretty non-existant.

I miss the warmth and friendliness of a non-western culture - now, if I smile at someone on the street and they smile back, I feel like we are co-conspirators in some kind of subversive plot to spread cheer throughout the globe!

I'm still riding my bike to and from work, though my 3 minute cycle has been extended to almost half an hour! Still, there's no wet season to worry about, and it's a great way to start and finish the working day!

I hate working full-time. I did some work for an organisation where I was only doing 6 hours a day, and it was perfect. It felt like I was working to live, not living to work. Now, it's like from the moment I wak up until a good 12 hours later my mind is somehow interacting with"work". There has to be a better way...

I no longer identify so much through my work. I used to find a lot of fulfilment in what I did, but now it seems a bit superficial and mindless. Now, even working as a curator I feel like a drone.

I want to make some radical changes in my life, but I'm still musing about what these might be. But I feel like the stuntedness of a life in suburbia has had it's day, and I'm looking for something more. I'll keep you posted - hopefully the ennui of everyday life won't make me forget...

Same shape, different fit...

Returning to a past life is not something I am used to doing. All my previous adventures - travelling around Oz, going to Europe, even both times I've finished uni - I always move on to the next adventure, whether that be a new city, a new job, another journey. It's always been a new phase, represented by a new situation and circumstances.

So coming back to the life I left behind is a whole new realm of experience for me. And it's weird, because even though the gap I left in this life looks like me, it doesn't feel like me in some really small and subtle ways. So subtle, in fact, that I'm struggling to put my finger on HOW it feels different.

And trying to express all this to my partner - my husband - is the first time that I've felt like we're not on the same page. He's trying to get me, but I don't think it's something you can "get" if you haven't experienced it yourself. Not that it's a massive issue, but it is an issue nonetheless.

I hadn't anticipated re-settlement being quite so...um...interesting! I guess I never really gave it any thought at all, had no pre-conceived notions about what it would be like. If I ever thought about it all it would have been in the context of longing, and my imagined relief at being home (obviously visualised when times were tough!).

Not that I'm complaining, I hasten to add! And I'm sure once I hit gainful employment I'll have far less time for such navel-gazing - so bring forth the Dream Job!

Wine o'clock

So, here I am, back home in Oz. It's 5:30pm on a Saturday evening, and rather cold outside. I have zero plans for the night, except maybe watching a DVD with my husband. He's currently visiting his mother and sister, so I've settled down with a lovely local sauvignon blanc and a spot of goat's cheese: some goat's camembert, and some chevre.

OH MY FREAKIN' GOD, could this scene BE any different to my past life in Tonga??? Nice wine? Cheese - GOAT'S cheese, nonetheless! Cold weather! A Husband!

I have been back for a grand total of 3 weeks and 2 days now, and it really does feel like the whole Tonga thing was in the distant past! But because I have nothing really to focus on here, it's sort of like part of me is dissipating, and I'm watching it go, turn to smokey wisps and vanish. It's perhaps not as maudlin as that made it sound, either. I don't feel melancholy, nor do I bitterly miss Tonga.

I'm really enjoying not working, though the money is starting to run out. Clinton and I took a mini-road trip to Echuca, to see a small exhibition I curated before I left but never got a chance to see. It was great to explore another little bit of Oz, but perhaps I don't have the bank funds to be enjoying $100 dinners at top quality restuarants!

While I want to get a job to give me something to focus on (and a much-needed income!), I'm also really enjoying not working. And when I look at all the things I'd like to do in the future (preferably in the before-kids future, and yes that's what happens when you get married, people, you start looking at life in terms of what you can factor in before you have to squeeze out a few young 'uns!) I cannot aee that there's any time for focusing on a career - like, how will I take a road trip for a year or so with Big C if I have to work, or spend a winter in the Yukon watching the Aurora Borealis over the sky every night?

Working's for chumps it seems to me, however I'm also afflicted by a desire to achieve somthing in my work life, and to be satisfied by what I do. I simply can't do a shit-kicking job in between advetures, sadly, as job satisfaction is also important to me. Dammit, how can we squeeze all the living that needs to be fone out of life, and while we're still young enough to enjoy it??

Anyway, I'm more than halfway through my bottle of wine, and C will be home soon, so I think I'll go take a look at what's for dinner. We went to the Farmer's Market today, and are fully stocked up on every organic winter veggie you could imagine! Mind you, if I was in Tonga right now it may have been something from the freezer for dinner...

Home again, home again...

Being back in Oz for good feels strange by it's very normalcy. It feels like things should be different, but they are so much the same that it's easy to believe that none of the last 10 months even happened.

I am finding it a bit difficult to talk to people about my experience - when they ask "How was Tonga?" I feel obliged to just say "Yeah, good..." and then let them talk about their own stuff. Luckily most people (myself usually included!) are more than happy to talk about what's going on with them, so I haven't been probed too deeply!

Guess I'll just process it in my own time.

There's lots of great aspects to being back. I'm enjoying being back in my home, with my husband and our menagerie. It's been great getting stuck into the veggie patch, and seeing how all the plants have grown. Not working is also really nice - I could totally get used to that! I'm loving cooking in my own kitchen, loving having access to awesome ingredients like goat's cheese and sheep's milk yogurt, and grabbing a soy flat white from the local cafe every morning!

But I do feel like this is a sort of limbo period. Or maybe transitional is a better term to describe it. And there's not many times in life when you're consciously in transition - most times it's something you look back on and recognize in retrospect, rather than as it's occuring around and within you.

I'm really interested to see how this is going to play out, actually!