A couple of years ago my Aunty Alma took Grandma and Great Aunty Alma out to see one of the big cruise ships that had docked in Sydney Harbour. They had a great day and she took some of my favourite pictures of of these sisters together. So much joy! So much hand waving!
Grandma has beautiful hands. Both of these women were wonderful people, but I especially miss Grandma, and I wish I could hold her hands again.
This semester’s subject at Moore is Christian Communication and Mission. It’s been pretty neat so far, a bit of cultural studies, a bit of Anthropology 101 (Community, anyone?), a bit of missiology. Our assessment is to spend time with a community from another culture and get to know their worldview. If I can be completely honest I feel like the task is way too big and complex to be addressed in the timeframe and word count given for this assessment. But I guess that is what undergrad degrees are all about, right? And nevertheless I am having a fun time working on it!
Thanks to the generosity of my supervisor and boss (and organisation! I love you Anglicare!) I have been allowed to take Friday mornings off as study leave for the last few weeks to do some fieldwork. The community I have chosen to spend time with is the mothers and children group run at our church (MOCHA), which is predominantly attended by Indian and Bangladeshi women who don’t actually come to any other church services or outreach events. Basically there’s a large group of recently arrived Hindu mothers regularly meeting in my church building. All I had to do was think of a reason to be there (a helping hand for the team and informal English conversation practice) and get time off work (thanks again, Anglicare!) and I was set.
Cross-cultural adventures under the cut
The air is warm, everything smells like flowers and I spent the morning carrying my coat around because it was too hot to wear.
I’m calling it. It’s the start of Spring!
I’m unbelievably excited about what the change in weather and all the good things that are coming!
Magnolias, trees and terrace houses in Newtown this morning.
People from the Northern Hemisphere have tried to describe to me the awesomeness of Christmas in winter, when the daylight fades early and it’s freezing and the Christmas lights look so beautiful. Of course, in Sydney, it doesn’t go like that at all. You have to wait until late in the evening for it to be dark enough to see Christmas light properly, and then everyone is out on the streets eating icecream and walking around in shorts, skirts and t-shirts.
Maybe the Vivid Festival is the closest Sydney gets to that Northern Hemisphere Christmas light experience. I mean, there’s nothing related to Christmas in it at all, but for a couple of weeks in winter, the shoreline around Sydney Harbour is scattered with beautiful light sculptures and iconic buildings are lit up with artistic light images and animation. It’s dark by 6pm. We all put on our coats and hats and wander around in the crisp, coastal winter air, faces illuminated by beautiful lights – warm yellow lights, garish neon lights, dainty fairy lights, bold tubes of light.
We got to go out twice this year – once with friends on the night the lights were turned on and once to attend the Planetarium concert at the Opera House. Both nights were AMAZING.
Pictures and video under the cut
The rain over the last few weeks has caused flooding everywhere! Dad has been working heaps of extra hours with SES. Flash flooding in Sydney innundated my friends’ home in Ashfield (of all places). Fiona was stranded in Sydney when Forbes was cut into several different pieces by overflowing rivers (actually I was a tiny bit excited about that one – I’m not complaining about a bonus weekend with Fi!).
Yesterday Matt and I went for a walk to inspect the Cooks River. It had risen up and over its banks by something like a metre in the height of the flooding near where we live. As one of Australia’s most polluted water bodies it had left piles and piles of rubbish up right up into the streets and left a disgusting oily black film covering all the grass and pavement. Gross.
There was a family of little girls behind me in the checkout line this week. They were all pretty young and boisterous, jumping up onto the railings and prodding at my groceries while their mum tried to keep them in order. Only one was school aged. She stood staring up at me, decked out in her sports uniform. She was a Wallaby!
Oh, my heartstrings! She was wearing the same uniform I used to wear when I was in primary school!
My friend Wendy (year 1) and myself (Kindergarten) in sports uniform.
Wendy was in the Koala house but I was a proud member of the Wallabies.
We usually lost most sporting events…
I love living in Hurlstone Park and doing my day to day business in Ashfield because I love the connections I have with all the people and places I see. But I know that we won’t be able to live here forever. I wonder how I will cope when we have to move to a new place?