As Time Goes By

Well time has certainly been flying by; it is now the fourth week of uni. Work seems to be piling up and most of my old friends from last year have turned into hermits, staying in their rooms studying, only showing their faces for meals. Well perhaps it isn’t quite as bad as all that, but most people definitely seem a lot busier this year.

My corridor is nice and quiet, plus I get a nice view of trees from my third floor window. My neighbour, Gino, is an interesting character. Whenever we meet in the corridors he screams out “Hey Tee-Rav”, with the emphasis on the‘t’. He’d have to be the only person I’ve met who pronounces my name like that. Whilst sitting in my room I often hear him in the corridors booming Chinese phrases to international students. He has long hair and has looks typical of an Italian heritage, the kind of guy that women would find attractive I suspect. Still he is a quiet and considerate neighbour.

Across the hall there is a guy named Alfred from Hong Kong. He was on my corridor last year, so I was happy that there was a familiar face in my corridor. We talk endlessly about cars and the TV programme “Top Gear”, which we both love. I’m not sure why, but he seems to be a target of thieves, of the bike variety especially. Apparently in the past few years he has had 5 bicycles stolen. Each time he buys a new bike, the value of the bike decreases and the value of his new lock increases. I’m thinking at some point he will hire a security guard to protect a $20 kid’s bike from Toys ‘R Us. Anyway in the first week of uni he had his wallet stolen, the poor guy.

I don’t know how, but there is one guy at college that I only ever seem to see in the same spot. It is always on the short path about halfway between college and union house which is made up of hundreds of concrete dots of alternating sizes with gravel in between the gaps. Really it is a stupid design, people take the most random paths trying to step on the concrete spots and avoid bumping into people. I’m sure the number of permutations for walking across the dots would be in the 4 figure ball park. Anyway, it is always here when we are negotiating a haphazard path over the dots that we see each other. “D-man,” I invariably call out to which he always smirks and yells out “Trav-Daddy.” I am always heading off to class, while he is coming back from the gym. I never see him apart from there. Peculiar indeed.

There certainly are a lot of interesting people at college, but I’ll reveal them all when the time is right.

Quite a lot has been happening lately despite the abundance of work I and everyone else seems to have this year. I guess I’ll start where I left off last time.

Firstly, by the end of the first week I had sorted out my timetable and it was a thing of beauty. All my classes were to be held from Monday to Wednesday, which meant that I would get a four day weekend every week. Despite this beautiful arrangement, I had no clashes, really it was a thing of beauty. You know the feeling you get when you find a parking space right by the door of the place you are going to in a really busy street, well it was like that but at least five times better. I woke each day brimming about my good fortune until I attended one of my “Actuarial Control Cycle” lectures. The pompous lecturer declared, “Some people have a clash with the Monday class, if I change it to 2pm is that ok with everyone?”
I hastily looked through my pleasing timetable and noticed that I had a lecture scheduled for that time. “Ahh I have a clash at that time.” I spoke up gingerly, to which my lecturer replied, “Just you? Ok the lecture will be changed to 2pm Mondays.”
He had tarnished my masterpiece of a timetable, now it was no longer perfect; I had a clash. I glared at him through the entire lecture.

Having a clash hasn’t been too bad so far though. The subject that it clashes with is insufferable and it is a real struggle sitting through the length of the lecture that I can actually attend, so I’m not terribly disappointed that I have to miss the other half.

After the first week of uni had finished, I and many other people looked like they needed a stiff drink and to go out and party. I got my fix on Friday night, when a number of us went out to Mombasa and Mooseheads for what turned out to be quite a fun night. At the end of the night I had to hold my arm around a fellow resident so that I could pilot her drunken stagger in the direction of college. Apparently it is a college tradition that people stagger home in each other’s arms after a big night.

Skyfire was the big event of the following Saturday night. Skyfire is apparently an annual tradition in Canberra, where a fireworks display choreographed to music is shown down at the lake. A large group left college early to walk down to the lake, but Caz and I decided to catch up on a bit of work before going. We ended up having a quick dinner at Macca’s, where apparently half the population of Canberra decided to eat. Quite amazingly most were drunk despite it being only 7:30pm. After scoffing the forgettable meal down, we donned jackets and starting walking down to the lake. We walked through the clean crisp night air down an unlit quiet path beside a dirty river, which had a suspiciously shiny glow on its surface. Soon we heard the unmistakable sound of fireworks being set off, which forced us into a respectably paced run. After passing through the grounds of the national gallery, we saw a large group of people who we assumed were going to watch the fireworks. We chased them along a dirt path amongst trees, ducking and weaving until we found a congregation of people sitting on picnic blankets on the grassy banks of the lake looking at the sky in awe whilst munching on food.

We quickly found a spot on the grass to sit and surrendered to the vivacious atmosphere. Despite all the noise and excitement, I felt quite calm and relaxed and just observed the surrounds. Kids screamed and mothers made noises of appreciation. Lovers held each other closely while marvelling at the spectacular display. Bright exuberant flashes of colour in the sky were mirrored by the white lights of camera flashes that flickered and speckled along the crowded banks of the lake. Caz sat beside me and we both had the same look of appreciation on our faces; we were here in Canberra, here for another year.

The display lasted perhaps fifteen minutes and as soon as it stopped we got up and walked home, back along the dark path beside the river.

The next day was a day of study, but to make things interesting, Caz and I decided to go down to the lake, spread out a picnic blanket and study under the shade of a willow tree. It was perhaps one of the only times that I have enjoyed studying, a simple change of surrounds amazingly made studying so much more tolerable. The water jet that we had a curious encounter with a few weeks ago seemed to taunt us, its water blowing on to us and wetting our notes. When we moved, the water seemed to follow us.

After sitting and studying for a while, drama (as it inevitably seems to do) developed. It appeared that a little girl on a bike had lost her father. After we realised this, Caz without even giving it a second thought, admirably ran after her to try and help her find her Dad. I stayed minding our things watching helplessly as she ran off to catch up with the girl. Apparently she caught up with the girl and returned her to her somewhat ungrateful mother. And then it was back to study.

On the Sunday night we caught up with an old friend and took off up to the peak of a local mountain, set up a telescope and marvelled at the stars. Truly it was a spectacular view. The surrounds were so peaceful, at times not a sound could be heard and the air was crisp and fresh. Stars dazzled and twinkled in the sky as we looked up in awe at them. One thing that Canberra does have going for it is that it has far fewer lights than Melbourne, making perfect conditions for viewing stars.

I started tutoring on the Wednesday and continued on the Thursday. I was so nervous and worked myself into quite a state before starting. I was imagining that the students were going to ask really tough questions and then if I couldn’t answer them they would ask why I was given the job. Remarkably though, the students were all friendly and didn’t ask difficult questions. Actually I guess I quite enjoyed teaching them.

Thursday night was commencement dinner, which is the first of several formal dinner functions held at the college. Typically at these dinners, students dress up to the extent that they look mature and incredibly respectable and then they go there and act quite the opposite; they get drunk on the free liquor and behave like children or perhaps animals. Anyway, this dinner was more subdued than previous ones I had been to and was mildly enjoyable. The food wasn’t spectacular, but it was of higher standard than a regular John’s meal.

It is a proud college tradition to go out and have a big night after each formal dinner. Naturally I wanted to respect this tradition, so I asked around to get an idea of who was going out. I ended up going with a big group of people to get coffee and then the plan was several that of us would go out after that. The problem was, no one else felt like going out after we had finished our coffee, which left me kind of stranded. Fortunately though, Mi’er noticed my desire to go out and so she agreed to have a quiet drink with me. We went to a bar called “Hippo”, which is a place that is Canberra’s attempt at a suave secluded, funky bar. Although not comparable to my favourite bars in Melbourne, it was a decent substitute. The lighting was dim, the furniture comfy, the décor kitsch and vibrant music engulfed the room. We sat on the dark red seats, drank cocktails and conversed freely until the bar closed for the night. After that we went back to Mi’er’s room, had a few more drinks and chatted until the early hours of the morning. It turned out to be quite an interesting night, the perfect end to the week really.

The weekend consisted mainly of study, with the occasional fun activity mixed in. It seemed to fly by and suddenly it was back to another week of uni. Nothing terribly exciting happened apart from a brief trip up to Mount Ainsle again to see the full moon. Despite it being a cloudy night, the others still insisted on going. “It will be clear once we get up there,” they kept repeating optimistically. So I drove the four of them up there and sure enough we couldn’t see anything but clouds. Caz was the most optimistic of the group constantly declaring that it was clearing up and that we’d be able to see the moon soon. Of course the clouds didn’t clear up, but we ended up had a good time regardless.

There is a long weekend in Canberra this weekend, so apart from work on Thursday, effectively I have a 5 day weekend. I know, you hate me… Until next time, take care.