Essay crunch, and some thoughts on Passover

I've spent a good part of the last week pent up in my apartment researching and outlining my midterm essay for Science and Society (you know, the one I complained horribly about in my last post).  As expected, organizing my (and other people's) ideas on the virtue and authority of academic, industrial, and entrepreneurial scientists is turning out to be quite tedious.  But I am determined to finish this (and my other two assignments) up so I can have an enjoyable and exciting vacation (a.k.a. Passover).

Anyways, I thought I would use this moment of procrastination to share a few of my Passover-related thoughts...

First of all, this will be the third year in a row in which I have not been in Delray Beach for the chag.  In all sincerity, this has been--and continues to be--a really hard thing for me.  Not because I'll miss out on the sun and the beach and the pool (believe me, there will be plenty of that here), but because I will miss the family seders.  Spending the past two passovers at Princeton has solidified that all-too-true song lyric "don't know what you got 'till it's gone."  Despite my various efforts to recreate it--at the CJL, Chabad, and Rabbi Wolkenfeld's house--there is nothing like the Miller/Greenberg/Abrams Florida family seder, period.  (I must say, Rabbi Wolkenfeld's seders were the closest I got.  The fact that they lasted until 2am without anyone at the table noticing how late it was is, in my mind, sufficient confirmation of the Bnei Brak story, despite the fact that we weren't reclining in a cave.)  I can't exactly put a finger on it, but there is something really special about our seders--the way we really engage with the stories, the way we all participate, our special customs, the list goes on (and oh yea, the brisket).

As my friends back in Princeton will attest, I tend to be down and irritable for the majority of those eight days.  It's a shame, really, because passover is meant to be a festival.  In the past I have blamed it on hunger, claiming that the scarcity of kosher-for-passover food on campus gave me perpetually low blood sugar, but truthfully that's bogus because I ate more on passover than any other week of the year.  Reflecting back on those two years of missed seders, I know the real reason I was upset was because I missed Florida--I missed my family and our traditions.

Now, despite the certain reality that I will miss the Floridian passover, there some comfort in knowing that this year will probably be the most interesting passover I've ever had.  A seder in Cairns, a stones throw from the Great Barrier Reef...that should be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  Ben and I have promised to make it as meaningful as an experience as possible, and to make passover an important theme in our trip.  Granted, I know scuba diving and 1500 miles of pristine Australian coastline in a campervan isn't exactly the same as a 40-year trek through the desert.

As we all know, the central theme of passover is freedom.  This year I will be thinking about freedom in new ways, including a new appreciation of my the freedom to travel, explore, meet new people, and try new things.  I will keep our family in mind as I try to bring our traditions to the other side of the planet. And I will thoroughly enjoy my four glasses of fine Australian wine.

But I still have one question... do I lean to the opposite side in Australia?

Academic Update

So apparently I came to Australia to study... who knew?  I must admit it wouldn't be hard to get the impression from my recent posts that I've been too busy having massive amounts of fun to go to class, but rest assured I get up every morning (except Friday!) and go to my subjects, so tuition is well spent in that regard.  Anyway, I got a request to give an update on how school is coming along, and I decided this would be as good a time as ever to really reflect on how my expectations are panning out in the classroom.  So thanks, mom.

To make a long story short, by and large only one of my classes is really meeting my expectations.  This is both good and bad, as you will see, as some subjects have grown on me while others have proven wildly tedious or boring.  I guess the most logical way to go about describing this flip-flop is to go subject-by-subject.

1. ERTH10001 -- The Global Environment is the only class so far that is what I expected it to be: the lectures are really interesting.  From day one, despite my complaints about the rather fundamental level at which this course is taught, I've learned new things in every lecture.  And, as my trip to the Great Ocean Road proved, this stuff is actually pretty relevant.  To be quite honest, I think I could do pretty well learning this subject on my own with just the textbook and lecture slides, but I choose to go to class because I am genuinely interested.  That's a good sign, people.  The one complaint I have, though, is that the practicals are a bit silly--I can't explain exactly why, but they feel more like middle school science class than a university-level lab period.  Still, this is my favorite class this semester.
2. ELEN90055 -- Control Systems is turning out to be both more manageable and more interesting that I presumed it would be.  When I went to the professor before the semester started and he went over all the things that were meant to be "review" at the beginning of the course, I was terrified because I hadn't heard of most of the topics.  He reassured me that I would be fine, and I am because it turns out I know most of the review stuff already, I've just never learned them in this context before.  So the first few weeks have been pretty interesting, and I've gotten the impression that control systems actually matter in the world of engineering.  The pace is starting to pick up, though, and the material is getting harder, so I think my initial nervousness might have been justified, after all.  Only time will tell, though.  I have two complaints with this course:
1. sometimes it seems like the professor thinks we're bumbling idiots and spends nonsensical amounts of time explaining basic algebra (i.e. the quadratic equation), while other times he breezes through more complex concepts
2. this is more of an evaluation/comparison of American vs. Australian modes of instruction, but there has been very little in the way of ensuring we are understanding the material because there are no weekly problems sets.  I never though I would say this, and any Princeton MAE would probably gape at me like I'm a fool if I did, but I think I prefer the weekly psets.  They take a shit load of time, I admit, but they are a surefire method of assessing my understanding.  Doing well in this course is going to require a lot more independent studying.  That being said, now is as good a time as ever to practice that useful real-world skill, especially since these grades won't count towards my GPA.
3. HPSC30023 -- Science and Society, I have to admit, is a let-down.  HPSC stands for "History and Philosophy of Science," but in my opinion, there's way too much P and not enough H.  So far we've seen very few case studies.  What we have done is sit through a bunch of monotonous, open-ended, and overly theoretical lectures.  We've also read a thoroughly dry and tediously academic book about the scientist's relationship with society.  Now, normally I would just skip the reading altogether with a book like this, but I won't be able to do that because I have to write 2,000 words on it for the midterm.
   Speaking of those 2,000 words, today in tutorial we discussed the essay topics.  One of them asks us to summarize the author's main claims and describe the evidence he uses.  One of my classmates aptly pointed out that the question does not explicitly ask for an argument, so she asked the tutor if one was expected.  To put a long story short, he didn't answer.  He kept saying something ridiculous like, "if you explain what you're doing, then that's your argument.  So if you say 'I'm going to summarize the author,' then you've made an argument."  What?  Not to sound like an ass, but I've seen literally dozens of these types of essays at the writing center, and 99% of the time the teacher is, in fact, asking you to develop an argument.  That's what a thesis is.  Without one, you have not written an essay!  And considering we're not being asked to make shoebox dioramas anymore, I can't imagine a book report would be anywhere near acceptable.  I'm rambling.  I suggested to the tutor--who, by the way, doesn't grade the papers--that the word "describe" in the question might be an invitation to critique or evaluate the author's contentions and evidence, not just summarize them, and hence develop a thesis.  His next move was clever... while cautioning us not to include anything in our essays that is not asked for in the question (wtf, I know) lest we incur a terrible mark, he also subtly adopted my suggestion to the point where by the end of the class he told us we should talk about which of the authors points are stronger or weaker than others.  As you might imagine, I started to get pretty frustrated.  This guy has a PhD and everything, and he's offending all of my Princeton Writing sensibilities, telling third-year university students to write like we're in fifth grade.  I'll have to go to the professor, who does mark the essays, to clear this all up.
   Anyways, it's too bad this class is sucking, because I had always wanted to take something like this.  But I won't let one bad apple spoil the bunch.
4. AUST20001 -- Australia and America is a mixed bag, but overall I'd say I'm enjoying the course.  The lectures are awful; the professor has an impossible monotone, and sounds more like he's reading an essay than giving a lecture (in fact, I think he is reading a script).  Since they're all recorded, and the slides are online, I see no reason to continue going.  (Sorry, mom, I know you would rather I didn't say that.)
   The tutorials for this class, on the other hand, are really interesting.  There's a pretty good mix of Australians and Americans, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, and that provides fodder for some interesting comments.  I'm learning a lot about Australian historical and contemporary issues, which I expected from the outset.  What I didn't expect, though, was how much I'd be learning about Americans.  Also, the class is pretty easy.

So, there are two weeks left before the break.  In that time, since I won't be around for two weeks after, I have to write two essays, prepare a group poster, and study for a midterm.  Pardon, the expression, but shit is hitting the fan.  Now this would probably be a typical (or maybe even light) midterm load at Princeton, but what makes it difficult here is that it's taking me a really long time to get back into serious student mode.  I thought I would be able to just flip the "get on your game and focus" switch, but it's turing out to be more of a slowly turning knob.  And I'm nowhere near full volume.  All the fun I'm having definitely isn't helping.  I've got to kick it up a notch.

The last thing I wanted to touch on is a bit of a sensitive subject, and that is the notion of Ivy League Princeton elitism.  Now, as I explained in the post where the kid berated me for my fancy academic credentials, I don't think the Princeton label automatically makes me smarter than anyone at another university.  But I'm ashamed to admit I've been getting a sense that the Princeton student community is, on average, significantly ahead of Melbourne's academically.  I don't say it out loud (except to my Princeton MAE friend here) because I know it makes us sound elitist, but Princeton is simply harder.  Of course, I've met some really smart people here, and I have not been in contact with a large enough sample size to really make a fair judgement.  That being said, I think Princeton could learn a lot from Melbourne socially.  I don't know what to make of this feeling where, on one hand I vocally reject Princeton elitism while simultaneously and secretly understanding its basis.  It's awkward.

Nevertheless, this experience is helping me appreciate my Princeton education and the degree it will give me, despite the fact that it is much more difficult.  If you look way back to my first post in this blog, you'll see that one of my goals for this study abroad experience was to prepare myself to finish college with a strong senior year.  I think this realization that my home university is such a fantastic institution puts me well on track to meet that goal, so at least my overall frustration with the Melbourne academic community is productive in some sense.

European Bier Cafe

Happy birthday Asher!

Just when I thought there was no tasty beer in Australia, I stumbled across an invite to half price tap Mondays at European Bier Cafe in the CBD.  This was my chance to taste sheer deliciousness at a reasonable price--of course, in moderation--and break free from the boring dirty-water Carlton draught I've grown accustomed to as a budgeting uni student.  Per usual, I want to reassure everyone that this visit to the bar had very little to do with consuming alcohol; it was motivated instead by the promise of great company, great flavors, and fancy beer connoisseur talk.  (I definitely played the "I brew beer at home" card at least once tonight.)  If you've never ventured past Bud Light or a Natty rack, you will probably find this post irrelevant, but if you're an aficionado or at least a casual appreciator, keep reading...

There were upwards of sixteen choices on tap at EBC.  According to my Australian "try new things" philosophy, I went for something I had never heard of, but I still stayed comfortably in the realm of my favorite category, the hefeweisen.  I can sincerely say the one I had tonight blew the socks off almost anything I've had before:

Erdinger Weisbier (Germany) 5.3% 300ml (1.2 SD) | 500ml (2.1 SD) This well-known German is a traditional wheat beer with a crisp and banana hinted flavour. The colour is hazy golden due to it being unfiltered.

A nice glass to compliment an even nicer beer.

There were distinct similarities between this beer and the batch we brewed last summer--you know, the wheat clone with light malt and orange bitters.  The difference: this was even better!  The unfiltered banana goodness really came through to produce a memorably crisp finish.  Although this really goes without saying, the Germans really know what they're doing when it comes to beer.

Speaking of German, as usual the majority of the gang tonight were non-English speaking.  The favored spoken language was probably French (of both the European and Canadian varieties), with the occasional Italian thrown in.  I really need to start learning some bits of these languages so I can stop looking like a deer in headlights every time the conversation deviates from English.  Then again, it probably sounds better when you have no clue what they're saying.

Anyways, if you're interested in what else was on tap, feel free to peruse the bier (a.k.a. beer) menu here.  P.S.: Dad--we need to try to clone the Erdinger this summer.

Australian Grand Prix

This weekend was the Australian Grand Prix, an event I've been looking forward to since before I even came to Melbourne.  This race--the first of the 2012 Formula1 season--was held at the Albert Park circuit south of the CBD.  The Grand Prix takes up an entire octane-filled weekend, with practice on Friday, qualifying on Saturday, and the actual race on Sunday.  In between the F1 events there are numerous other races, including V8 Supercars, touring cars, and the Carerra Cup.  It's pretty safe to say that my first (and hopefully not last) ever car race will be one I remember forever.

Free trams!

Albert Park is built around a manmade lake.  It's considered one of the easier circuits of the F1 season.  We sat near the exit of turn 9 (the top left corner of this map) most of the time, but walked around a bit to see other corners during the second half of the GP.

My friend Ben Rabinowitz came from Sydney for the weekend to stay with me and see the Grand Prix.  I must say, it's really a shame that it took us both coming to study in Australia to get quality hang-out time, especially considering how close we were growing up and in high school.  Anyways, it was really great to see Ben and show him around the city I've been calling home, and to experience our first F1 race together.  I know a bit more about cars than he does, mostly because of my healthy obsession, and he was impressed at my ability to name (and spit out facts on) more than 75% of the cars here without looking at their badges.  We are both total gearheads, which made the whole thing more fun because we were constantly talking about cars, trucks and motorcycles and all that fun stuff.

Mates, Australian style.

Ben arrived early on Friday after taking the redeye train from Sydney.  We caught up over a substantial cereal-and-eggs brunch.  It became evident rather quickly after sleeping in the same room and sharing the bathroom that my apartment is not at all suitable for more than one person.  But Ben and I get along well, and we managed.  Around midday I gave Ben a brief campus tour, then we met up with my friend Rob to head for our first day at the Grand Prix.

One of the nice things about this weekend is that the trams to the Grand Prix were all free.  So we hopped on one at Federation Square and it took us almost directly to one of the entry gates where we showed our printed tickets and ventured into the Albert Park venue.  Not more than five minutes after we arrived, it started to pour torrentially, so we went inside a tent to check out some driving exhibits and have a go on the video game F1 simulator.  I didn't even complete one lap before I spun out, and then some eight-year-old kid totally showed me up with a rather impressive performance.  Sadly, the one who probably couldn't see over the steering wheel in an actual car was miles faster than the one who has had his license for over four years!

Once the track was sufficiently wet and the grounds sufficiently muddy, the rain let up and we started walking around the track.  Our goal for the day was to scope out some good viewing positions for the next two days, and also to see the second of three F1 practice sessions.  The practice session was delayed slightly as the crew dried the track as best they could (apparently Albert Park has poor drainage because most of the circuit is on actual public roads).  We found a spot close to the track, then...

WHAAAAAAAMMMMMM!  The first car screamed by, Sebastian Vettel's (the current F1 champion) Red Bull machine spraying a rooster tail of water out of its enormous grooved rain tires.  The feeling of the cars going by is really indescribable in words, but I'm going to try to give a vague idea of how it feels.  First of all, F1 cars are loud.  I mean, LOUD.  Their 2.4 liter V8 engines rev to a maximum 18,000 rpm, which results in a deafening shriek when the cars whiz by.  When they shift, the motors backfire and the gears slam into place, producing a thundering thwap that bounces off the circuit walls.  It's an absolutely amazing visceral feeling, and it's exciting time after time.  It's so loud, in fact, that you really need to wear ear plugs or your ears will be ringing (or bleeding) after a few laps.

This is one of those situations where the best description is a video:

This is during the practice session in the wet.  Apparently those deeply grooved rain tires can expel up to 65 liters of water per second, which is important to keep them from hydroplaning and sending the featherweight cars into the barrier at triple-diget speeds.

The F1 cars take the track at tremendous speeds.  It's counter-intuitive to think like this, but in many ways it's safer for the drivers to go fast.  The car's grip depends almost entirely on two factors: tires and aerodynamic downforce.  The tires need to be hot to maintain good traction, and that necessitates speed--hard acceleration and hard braking.  And as even the engineering novice can tell you, aerodynamic downforce depends on speed, to the point where at top speed (in excess of 180 mph on this circuit) these cars can produce over 1 ton of downforce on the rear wheels.  That's pretty important when you're trying to transmit about 750 horsepower from the rubber to the road.  So, believe it or not, in Formula1 you will crash if you go too slow (try that one out on the trooper the next time you get pulled over).

Formula1 is a very technical and political sport with a pretty complex set of regulations.  They carefully control everything from raceday procedures to fuel composition in an effort to make the sport as exciting for spectators and as safe for drivers as possible.  The governing body is constantly adding, subtracting, or revising rules to meet that goal.  Regardless, the teams spend millions inventing new technologies to give themselves a technical edge, because at this level it really does depend on the car just as much as the driver inside it.  They have rear wings which can change pitch (but only at certain parts of the track by regulation) to change the downforce/drag ratio, kinetic energy recovery systems (KERS) to store braking energy in a flywheel for later release during passing (basically a fancy hybrid system), and paddle-shifted sequential gearboxes to crack off seamless split-second shifts.  The amount of engineering that goes into these cars is mind boggling.  Each team employs dozens of engineers and technicians who work year-round to make F1 the sport that it is.  I hate to say it, but the world would be a much better place if these incredibly talented and intelligent individuals shifted their focus to solving our energy and infrastructure problems instead of sending a couple multi-million-dollar pieces of carbon fiber around a twisty track.  Still, these jobs are a mechanical engineer's dream, and I would give anything to be a part.

On Friday Ben, Rob, and I saw a lot of historic race cars and sports cars that were on display around the venue.  There were some pretty nice rides, although I don't think there was anything in as good condition as Ralph Lauren's collection that Asher took me to see at the MFA a few years ago.  Still, I walked around drooling over these pieces of automotive and motorsport history.

An exquisite vintage Jaguar racer, right hand drive.  Ralph Lauren had a similar one in the more traditional British racing green.

On Friday night, after a delicious chili dinner, the three of us went out in attempt to see some live music, but after realizing how high the cover fee was at the place we wanted to go, the night didn't end up spectacularly.  It was a an insufficiently brief taste of Melbourne night life, and I wish Ben had gotten so see some of the better nights.

On Saturday our plan was to have a relaxing morning and then head to the track for qualifying in the afternoon.  Again, we had a huge breakfast (Ben is an impressive cereal eater) before heading down to Albert Park on a tram.  We posted up with our newly-purchased $6.50 camping chairs on a hill at the exit to turn 9, and waited for the qualifying to begin.  Qualifying was three rounds where the drivers compete against the clock to produce the fastest lap times, and their single fastest times determine their positions on the starting grid.

I was (and still am) rooting for Lewis Hamilton, a young British driver for Vodafone McLaren-Mercedes who has one world championship under his belt.  I'm not sure exactly why I like him, and I suppose the main reason is because I don't really know many drivers, but I think it's also because of his role in the BBC's Top Gear tribute to Ayrton Senna.  Ayrton, a Brazilian, was arguably the best driver of all time (unquestionably the best in the rain because of his ability to take his car to the edge and pull of ridiculous lap times), and Hamilton considers Senna to be the best and his idol.  Tragically, Ayrton died in a horrible single-car accident at Imola (San Marino Grand Prix, Italy) in 1994 and the sport lost one of its greats.  Ayrton's nephew actually races in F1 now for Williams Renault, but he is not as good as his uncle was.  Anyways, I like Hamilton, and since I didn't want to be cliche and root for Schumacher or Vettel, I picked him as my man.  The only other logical choice would have been Red Bull's Mark Webber, since he is an Australian and hence the local fan favorite.

Lewis Hamilton 

Ayrton Senna

Anyway, I must be good luck, because Hamilton qualified in first with a time of 1:24.9 (almost a full second slower that Michael Schumacher's all time record there of 1:24.1).  Behind him was his teammate Jenson Button, making it an all-British and all-McLaren front row in the starting grid.  It's really cool how the drivers come back in after each qualifying round to make little tweaks to their cars, so by the third round they are producing staggering times.

Before qualifying there was a V8 supercar race, which was also very loud and exciting, and after there was a classic touring car race.  We laughed because one of the touring cars was a Volvo, and it seemed to be running quite late for soccer practice.  Ben preferred the lower-pitch bark and growl of the supercars, but I preferred the high-pitch wail of the 18,000-rpm F1 monsters.  To each his own.

Saturday night Ben and I headed out to the Fitzroy area to catch the end of the St. Paddy's day festivities.  It didn't really compare to Boston's St. Paddy shenanigans, but there are a lot fewer Irish people here.  Anyway, we didn't find any places we liked too much, so it ended up being a not-so-late night again, which was good because we had another busy day of racing to see.  On our way home we were gawking at an exquisite 1970 Dodge Charger 440 in a parking garage, and its owner came back to get it.  I think we made him nervous from our inspection, because he stalled the car trying to get it out of the parking space.  He stalled it again at the next traffic light, which made us really suspicious that it wasn't actually his car.  Hopefully he's just bad at driving and we didn't witness a car theft.

Sunday was the actual Grand Prix, the moment we had been waiting for.  After a slow morning we finally made it to Albert Park.  Obviously there were a ton more people this time, and the spot we had scoped out for qualifying was jam packed, so we took up another post on a small hill overlooking the straightaway after that corner.  It was really hot, and we were in the sun, but it was a decent view nonetheless.

My attempt to stay cool and not get a sunburn on my face.

After a cool demonstration from a Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) F-18 fighter jet, then a flyover by a Quantas 747 (the Grand Prix's primary sponsor), they sang the Australian national anthem.  It was a weird experience because the Australians didn't really sing along, and many didn't stand up or take off their hats.  The DJ at the nearby dance party didn't even turn down his music.  As a person who sometimes gets emotional when they play the Star Spangled Banner at the Garden, or during Hatikvah on Yom HaAtzmaut, it was strange to witness such an unenthusiastic performance.  I can't tell if Australians are not patriotic, if Americans are overly patriotic, or both, but I think the lack of respect for their country's anthem was a bit embarrassing.

The Quantas 747.  Nice plane (but its no A380).

After a single formation lap, the Australian Grand Prix got underway at about 5 PM.  The GP consists of 58 laps of the roughly 3-mile circuit, which took roughly 90 minutes.  Because the F1 rules do not allow refueling, and the cars average only 4 mpg, the cars have very heavy fuel loads at the beginning of the race.  This weight, and the non-ideal conditions of actual racing, leads to significantly slower lap times--roughly five seconds slower--than in qualifying.  But the cars get lighter by about 3.5 kg per lap, so lap times decrease throughout the race and the drivers put down their best times in the final laps.

Enjoy the 18,000-rpm symphony of lap 1!  It's impossible to tell because they just look like a blur (and it's not much easier to see in person), but 1-2-3 are Button, (McLaren), Hamilton (McLaren,) and Schumacher (Mercedes-Benz).

Anyway, this race was a nail biter.  Jenson Button overtook Lewis Hamilton immediately on the opening sprint, and stayed in first place for the duration of the race (this was his third win at Albert Park in four years).  But the other positions shifted considerably.  For the first few laps it was Button, Hamilton, then Schumacher, but Michael crashed out on lap 11.  At around the halfway point, Button and Hamilton pitted for tires, but Sebastian Vettel did not pit until the next lap.  During that lap there was a crash and a caution flag, and that worked to Vettel's advantage as he was able to gain precious seconds to move into second.  The battle for third was fierce between Hamilton and fan-favorite Mark Webber, but my man held it to the end to secure a podium finish.  The final result was Button, Vettel, and Hamilton in 1-2-3, followed by Webber and Ferrari's Fernando Alonso.  This puts Button in the lead for drivers cup points with 25, and McLaren in the lead for the constructor's cup with 40 points (25 from Button and 15 from Hamilton).  It seemed funny that everyone clapped at the end (especially for Webber) because the drivers are going too fast and it's too loud for them to see or hear it, but I guess it's the thought that counts.  Overall, there seemed to be a lot of accidents, and seven drivers didn't finish, but it was a great start to the F1 season regardless.

Ben and I were so glad we got to see this event.  I think I'm going to start following F1 because it is such a fantastic sport from both an entertainment and engineering perspective.  Although it's easier to understand what's going on (and you get a better view) on TV, there's nothing that compares to the feeling of being at the race and watching the cars fly by.

When the race ended on Sunday I went with Ben directly to the train station to see him off on his return redeye to Sydney.  It was really great to see him and spend the weekend together, and it made me even more excited for our Great Barrier Reef road trip in a few weeks.  We're in the process of planning it now.  We also decided that we're going to do a weekend of backpacking this summer, and that I'm going to give Ben some carpentry lessons downstairs in the shop for a few nights because he wants to learn about all the different tools and how to use them.

Now that I'm back at my apartment and have spent the last two hours writing this post, it's probably time I get back into school mode.  Yeah, right...

Photographic evidence of me holding a surfboard is finally here--check the MUSEX Surf Party Weekend post.  Unfortunately, there are no shots of me in the water because the zoom wasn't good enough.  I swear I did, though.

A tast of home

Lorenzo and I went out for a bit tonight, first to the garden at Queensbury Hotel, our local cheap pub, to go over money matters from the GOR trip (who owes how much, etc.).  We also talked a lot about our universities, and how the American and Italian systems differ substantially.

After Queensbury we met up with the Italian and French (of both the European and Canadian varieties) girls at Melbourne Central.  These were the girls who were also at the Great Ocean Road this weekend, so it was fun to compare our trips.  There was quite a lot of non-English at the table, which was good and bad: good because I really like listening to those languages (especially Italian), but bad because I didn't understand them and I felt guilty for being an uncultured American who doesn't know enough languages.

Anyway, I wasn't drinking, but one of the French Canadian girls came back from the bar and, knowing I'm from Boston, told me the beer of the month was Samuel Adams.  Now, since this was probably the only time I'll get to taste that deliciousness while I'm here, I coughed up the $7.50 for a bottle of Sam Summer.  When I ordered, I asked for a "Sam Adams," and the bartender had no idea what I was talking about, so I used the full name "Samuel" and pointed to the sign.  Then she knew what I wanted and she told me she really likes them and has been drinking one every day, to which I responded by telling her I am from where it is brewed (hence the title of this post), but I'm not sure she really cared.  Anyways, now I know what they do with all the Sam Summer once the season is over: they ship down under!  So while we're drinking Winter Lager back home, they drink Summer Ale here, and veis versa.  And yes, it's just as tasty--I love that dirty water.  Now if only they could ship some Cherry Wheat--or better yet, a UFO or some #9--over here, we'd be in business.

The Great Ocean Road

[This blog entry is extremely short time-wise, but the opposite textually.  In other words, you might want to grab a drink and a snack if you plan to read the whole thing in one sitting...]

TL;DR... The Great Ocean Road was beautiful and amazing and exhausting and everyone should come see this place!

This weekend I went on a road trip along the Great Ocean Road.  In roughly two days we managed to stop at least fourteen times to see beaches, landmarks, animals, waterfalls, and incredible ocean views.  At each stop I came to the same conclusion: this country is beautiful, period.

I left some of the sand on the beach.  The rest I brought back in my shoes.

Before I go on to describe in excruciating detail all the things we did, you might be curious exactly who we are.  So meet the characters in this week's episode: myself (duh); Lorenzo, my Italian neighbor from down the hall; Alessandra, also Italian; Lorenzo and Alessandra both study at Bocconi University in Milan.  Monica, a girl from Chicago who goes to American University in D.C.; Alessandra and Monica both live at Yarra House, northeast of the university; and Marie, a French girl who studies in Paris who met Alessandra the night before we left and claimed the last seat in the car.  The five of us got along very well.

Anyways, here goes...

On Friday afternoon Lorenzo and I went downtown to pick up the rental car.  I can really only think of one word to describe the Hyundai Getz: small.  This was basic A-to-B transportation (although as you'll see from the Google map, we took it all the way to I and back).  Since I'm not 21, Lorenzo had to do all the driving.  Even though I trust very few people's driving and prefer to do it all myself if possible, Lorenzo was a good driver.  Interestingly, it was his first time ever driving an automatic transmission (you know those Italians and their cars), and he had to get used to putting the car in P before taking the key out of the ignition.  So we did, in fact, manage to fit five people and five bags in there.  After everyone was done with class around 6, we set off southbound in Friday rush hour...

Our tiny Hyundai Getz (registered in Tasmania) "gets" us there and back.

The drive from Melbourne to Torquay, the beginning of the Great Ocean Road and our first stop, was slow at first, but once we got far enough out of the city the speeds picked up.  I went out and bought an iPod cable right before we left, and it turned out to be quite handy for the longer stretches.  Monica has a very respectable collection on her iPod--a goog mix of songs I know and love and some stuff I'd never heard of.  I played Black Betty, my favorite road trip kick-off song, and then handed the DJ duties back to Monica.  Oh, and did I mention Lorenzo loves to sing classic rock?  Anyways, We passed very close to Geelong and Ocean Grove, where I went surfing during Melbourne Welcome and MUSEX Surf Party Weekend.  Now normally I'd just tell everyone "google it" to see where I've been, but I figured I'd add the map to save you all some time.

Our route along the Great Ocean Road.  Melbourne is off the map about 100 km to the northeast. A is Torquay.  I is Port Campbell.

We got to Torquay around 8.  The second you hit the main drag you can immediately tell what this town is about: surfing.  This town is a great surf spot, and because it's the beginning of the Great Ocean Road it's where everyone rents boards, so there were ton of surf shops and outlets.  When we were driving through I realized everyone who lives in this town probably surfs.  Even the cops.  When we got to the hostel the receptionist was not there, so we went to buy groceries.  We barbecued a heap load of dinner and got to know each other over a beer in the garden.

After dinner we drove down to the beach.  We popped into the bar there for a second, but the crowd was much older than us so we just moseyed our way down to the sand.  It was harder than usual to see the stars because the moon was enormously full and bright.  So bright, in fact, that I could clearly see the craters and lava seas my professor had talked in the first day of Earth Science class.  In fact, at various times during this trip I saw first-hand the geological features he has been lecturing about.  After a few (unsuccessful) attempts at taking a self-timer photo of all of us on the beach, we decided to head back to the hostel because it was past midnight and we had a long day ahead of us.

Staring at the moon...
(Marie had a really good camera and was able to get decent low-contrast exposure.  Nice composition, I might add.)

Our hostel, "home @ bells beach" was not what I was expecting.  Until now, my perception of hostel was the Israeli youth hostels we stayed at in middle school and high school (you know, schnitzel at Beit Agron in Jerusalem).  But this was the other type of hostel, or as Australians call it a "backpackers," where you just have big rooms with bunk beds and a communal kitchen and lounge.  Other than the fact that our room smelled like sweaty socks because a bunch of surfers had already been staying there for a few days, it was actually really nice.  The front garden was watered with recycled water, too, which earned it points in my book.

Our hostel in Torquay.  It was quaint and comfortable, but our bunk room smelled like feet.

We checked out after breakfast Saturday morning and piled into the car at around 9:30.  Our first stop was Bells Beach, really the first beach on the Great Ocean Road.  The weather was a bit gray, but it was still very nice to be on the beach.  In fact, the sun was pretty shy for most of the weekend, but as far as I was concerned that made it nicer because it wasn't hot.  Bells beach has some awesome cliffs and caves that have been eroded by the water.  We did the touristy thing and took a self-timed picture of all of us in one of the caves.  I also tried to climb up one of the sheer walls: I didn't get very far, but Lorenzo snapped a picture in time.

Bells Beach.  Picturesque is an understatement.

Left to right: Monica, me, Alessandra, Marie, and Lorenzo

That's me practicing my rock climbing skills at Bells Beach.

We walked up and down the beach a bit.  I rolled up my jeans and walked through the tide pools, which was really relaxing (a bit cold, though).  We could have stayed there longer, really, but there were more stops to get to so we headed back to the car.

If you zoom in on the google map you'll probably notice that the Great Ocean Road is not at all straight because it follows the coastline.  As a consequence, because of all the twists, turns, dips, and climbs, this is probably one of the greatest driving roads of all time. (Think Kankamangus highway, but much longer.)  And, because there's no snow here, the pavement is pretty smooth.  I kept saying how I would love to do this on my bike, or better yet on a motorcycle!  There were many signs reminding us to drive on the left; I guess a lot of tourists forget that.

Our next stop was Anglesea.  The town itself was not that special--just some shops and a drive-through liquor store (that seems wrong, doesn't it)--but a few kilometers inland there was a golf course we came to see.  Apparently Alessandra is a competitive golfer and has been playing since she was twelve; but that's not why she wanted to see this course.  No, it was because this course is home to a large family of kangaroos!  For the most part they were just sitting and lounging, and we were actually able to get pretty close without being in significant danger, but I got really excited every time they hopped.  It really is as fun to watch as you might think.  They were not exactly wild animals and they were all tagged.  One of the females had a joey in her pouch.  The cartoons have the whole pouch thing wrong, by the way; the joey doesn't stick its head out and smile for the ride.  Instead, the mother just kind of shoves him in there head first so the only way to tell she is with offspring is by her huge bulge and the tiny legs sticking out the top.

In the US there are squirrels and chipmunks on golf courses.  Here, they have kangaroos.

The next stop was Lorne, which is one of the bigger (very touristy) towns on the Great Ocean Road, right by the beach.  We stopped at the visitor center there to get some maps and find out the best places to see.  To be fair, there was not much to do in Lorne other than eat (which we did, at a really tasty restaurant), unless you had surfboards and wetsuits.  Monica likes to shop, though, so we walked the street a bit to look in the stores.  The we gout back on the road and were on our way.  We were in a bit more of a hurry this time because it was already 4 and we had to check into the next hostel before 9 and there was still a couple hours of driving to go.  But, like true vacationers, we didn't rush too much.

Our next scheduled stop was Erskine Falls, but along the way we spotted this lighthouse and I wanted to stop.  Good thing, too, since the views here were spectacular (that's probably why they put a lighthouse here).  The lighthouse was called Split Point Light Station, and it was 36 m tall.  Despite the drastically different geology and flora, the lighthouse reminded me a lot of New England, something you might see on Cape Cod or up in Maine.

Split Point Light Station felt strangely like New England.

Erskine falls is several kilometers off the Great Ocean Road, but it's well worth the drive.  You get to the parking lot by via a treacherously steep access road and then you have to walk down a couple hundred steps to the base of the falls.  I don't think it's the tallest waterfall I've ever seen, but one of the better looking.  The rocks are covered in lush green moss and the water makes a cool mist in the whole area, which is surrounded by tall cliffs.  I don't think it was technically allowed, but we climbed off the trail to the base of the waterfall to take pictures (everyone else did, anyway).  I was very careful not to slip with my phone and camera in my pockets.  If you haven't gotten the sense of it yet, Australia is one of the most naturally beautiful places I've ever been.

It's hard to tell, but that rock was actually pretty hard to balance on.  Nice waterfall, eh?

After realizing that I'm out of shape from climbing back up the stairs, we piled back into the car.  The tiny little four-banger worked hard to get back up the hill with all five of us weighing it down, but Lorenzo pushed the pedal to the floor and we made it back up.  The next stop was Kennet River.  I should preface this part by explaining that Alessandra's main goal for this trip was to see a koala.  Once she saw one, she would be happy.  So we asked at the information center where a good place to see them is.  The guide there said she often sees them in her backyard (cool, I know), but there is also a caravan park where they just hang out in the trees.  So we went there, to Kennet River.  Sure enough, the lady was right, there were koalas in the trees!  The first one we spotted was asleep in a branch.  the second was eating leaves, slowly but surely comping away, minding his (or her) own business despite the small crowd of tourists and loud caravaner kids below.  Apparently the leaves they eat have drug-like sedative effects and also lack nutrition, so they spend most of their time (22 hours per day) sleeping.  The rarely move, like sloths.  Once a year they mate, but that's it.  That koala has probably been in that same tree for months!

Nothing much see at Kennet River...just a koala up in the tree.

What I thought was really cool about the caravan park was the birds.  There was a hord of colorful red and green birds, and people were feeding them so they were not at all shy.  You could go right up to them and snap a photo in their faces.  I'll have to find out what species that is.

I don't know what this bird is called, but its really cool looking and they were everywhere.

 At this point we were pretty pressed for time, since we booked a hostel in Port Campbell, about a two-hour drive away, and had to be there by 9.  A lot of this next portion of the Great Ocean Road was actually inland, so it was a good part to do quickly.  You could tell how exhausted we all were because we all fell asleep (poor Lorenzo had to stay awake the whole time).  We did make one stop, though, to see the twelve apostles.  We had planned to see it the next day, but we had been told that it's beautiful at sunset, which is coincidentally the time we arrived there, so we took a twenty minute break.  Great choice.  The twelve apostles are a set of rock pillars that have been created over millions of years by erosion of the soft limestone.  I learned form my Earth Sciences class that the layers on each rock match up, as they were originally one piece of stone.  There were only ever nine pillars, but now there are eight because on fell down a few years back (they can get unstable as the waves erode their bases).  The erosion continues on the cliffs, though, so it is likely that there will be more apostles in the future (maybe someday there will actually be twelve).

Some of the Twelve (well, nine) Apostles at sunset.

The hostel in Port Campbell was larger than the one in Torquay (and it didn't smell like feet).  We cooked up some pasta for dinner and ate family-style before hitting the hay (before midnight, this time). One thing I especially liked about this hostel was how environmentally friendly it was.  Everything in there was designed to save electricity and water, or both.  For instance the lights in the shower had a ten minute timer, so you couldn't take a long shower or leave the lights on.

With a long day of touring ahead of us again, we got an early start after a cereal and toast breakfast.  Our first stop was back to the Twelve Apostles.  We ran into some friends in the parking lot to the Gibson Staircase who we knew were on the road also but we hadn't coordinated to meet up.  They had two huge campervans between the nine of them.  Anyway, time we climbed down to the beach to get a closer look at the rocks.  You really got a sense of how the crashing waves eroded the pillars.  I remember being in awe at the power of nature at that point.  Again, beautiful.

We climbed the stairs down the cliff to the beach to get a closer look at the apostles. 

After the Twelve Apostles we got petrol (gas) in the tiny one-horse-town of Princetown (I thought I had gotten away from there, but apparently it followed me).  Filling up the tiny econo-car cost $67 with these crazy Australian per-liter prices.  We stopped at a boardwalk nature hike called Maits Rest along one of the inland portions of the Great Ocean Road, which the Lorne visitor center lady told us to see.  To be honest, it wasn't that spectacular, but the rainforest landscape was a nice contrast to the rocky, sandy beaches along the coast.  The trees there had a sort of fuzzy red bark, which I remarked looked like orangutan hair.

A boardwalk.  Pretty self explanatory, I just thought it was a fun picture.

Since it was about lunch time, we headed to Apollo Bay, another of the larger touristy towns along the GOR.  (We actually passed through it the night before on our way to Port Campbell.)  I had some greasy fish and chips for lunch and split a baklava and an apple crisp with Monica for dessert.  The fish was nothing special, but those desserts--two of my favorites--really hit the spot.  Needing to digest that large meal, we headed to the beach for a nap and then a walk.

I'm not sure how we heard about the next stop.  I think Alessandra and Marie just saw it on the map and thought it sounded cool because it was a waterfall.  And indeed it was very cool, in more than one sense of the word.  We got to Marriners Falls via a dangerously windy and narrow dirt road, which was one of the more nerve-wracking experiences on this trip.  There were lots of little farms and bed-and-breakfasts tucked away along its twisted length.  When we got to the parking lot at the end, there was a sign at the trailhead that said the falls were closed.  What the hell, I though, lets go anyway.  Right before we started two people came back, so we asked them if it was still possible to go, to which they answered affirmatively.  The sign said it was about an hour round trip, which we were up for.  The whole time we were speculating as to why it was closed, since there didn't appear to be anything wrong  with the trail.  Monsters, maybe?  Capitalizing on that potential fear, I hid behind a tree and scared Monica and Lorenzo, who were lagging a bit behind.  Will I ever grow up?

The waterfall was well worth the walk.  I'd say it was about twenty feet high, and it ended in a shallow pool about two fee deep.  It was such a relaxing spot.  Alessandra, who absolutely loves everything water (boats, beaches, etc.), Monica, and I were brave enough to go in the frigid water.  They were wearing bikinis, but I didn't having my bathing suit on so I just went in with my underwear (perks of being a guy).  I was the only one brave enough to dip, though, and I even stood under the waterfall.  It was absolutely freezing, and being under there felt like being pelted with ice cubes, so I only stood long enough to pose for a picture.  (It reminded me of the waterfall at the end of our family hike in New Hampshire two years ago, where Asher and I both swam in the waterfall, only this was colder.)  I'm glad we took the hike, and I'm glad I went in the water, despite a somewhat chilly walk back to the car.

Marriners Falls, in which I froze my ass off. 

I changed into dry clothes and we drove back up the scary dirt road to Apollo Bay.  We bought food at the grocery store and cooked it on the public barbecue in the park by the beach.  I brought out my portable speaker (thanks, Asher) so we could listen to music while we ate and drank wine (classy, I know).  We probably stayed there until 10, then it was finally time to drive back home.  Poor Lorenzo had to stay awake again, but I managed to squeeze in a little nap, despite my rather uncomfortable perch in the middle of the back seat.

We got back to Melbourne at about 1 AM.  After we dropped the girls off, Lorenzo and I returned the rental car and walked back from the city to our apartment building.  Even on a Sunday night the CBD was hopping with bar/club-goers, which was a strange contrast to my relaxing weekend out by the beach.  It was weird realizing it was still the weekend, since it felt like we had been vacationing for way longer than two days.  As seems to be the theme with my time here in Australia, we crammed more activities into such a small time than seems humanly possible.

The Great Ocean Road will be a trip I'll remember forever.  I love it here.

[Congratulations on reading this entire post.  Thank you for your time!]

Week 2 scramble...

I have now been in Melbourne for an entire month and, like usual, it feels like so much longer.  Normally when four weeks feels like a year it's a bad thing (i.e. the Princeton grind), but this is not one of those cases.  I'm still having a blast, but I'm ridiculously busy trying to make the most out of this opportunity and do as many new or interesting things as possible and still somehow be a student (wait, what?).

I love this university.  This community is so vibrant and active.  There are so many clubs doing so many activities and trips and, most importantly, giving out free food.  The other day I was walking through the student union and there just so happened to be a rock concert going on--at lunch time on a Tuesday!  People are everywhere, which makes walking around a bit like snowboarding in the trees, except they're moving in seemingly random directions and it's 75 degrees so there's no snow.  (The glades are my favorite trails, though.)

Anyways, week 2 of the semester is almost over, and work is piling up.  Papers have already been assigned, which is good and bad: good because they're not due until mid-semester and that gives me plenty of time to prepare, but bad because I know I won't write them until the last minute and that just gives me more time to worry about them.  I'm behind my reading.  I need to start actually acting like I'm at school.  Meh, there's time for that later.  This week has been a scramble also because I'm trying to figure out my summer internship situation which is turning out to be a lot more confusing than I expected.  This week I also started looking for a part-time job.  The search is motivated mostly by the hole in my pocket that's rapidly draining my bank account.  More on these things later...

The internship and job searches, and school/life in general have been complicated a bit by the fact that I ran out of internet.  You might be wondering how that is possible, since it makes no sense and doesn't happen in the US, so let me explain.  With most internet plans in Australia, they set a limit on how much data you can use per month.  My plan gives me 10GB on-peak and 10GB off-peak, which is more than enough for me to follow all my TV shows on the internet, watch youtube, etc.  With a few days left in the billing period, and more than half of my quota unused, I figured I might as well download a bunch of stuff to use up the rest.  So I did.  Too much--I hit my limit.  What they do when you hit the limit is "shape" your internet, which is a fancy way of saying they make it incredibly slow.  So I've spent the last few days waiting hours to load 30-second youtube clips and, more importantly, trying to view webpages that I need for school and traveling.  It resets tomorrow, though, so I'll be up an running then. Learned my lesson...

I had my first practical class for my earth sciences class yesterday.  We looked at a bunch of rocks and meteorites and tried to figure out what type they were and how/where they formed.  It was interesting, but the way it was set up was so basic it felt like middle-school science class.  I guess that's what I get for enrolling in a first-year subject.  It will probably get harder, though.

Last night I went with a few other kids to a Purim party in St. Kilda, which was a tremendous amount of fun.  It was exactly what you would expect from a college costume party. The theme was uperhero/villain , which basically meant I turned a t-shirt into a cape and wore my underwear on the outside.  I made a belt from a cardboard wine box and called myself "Goon Man."  (I spent a considerable amount of time washing that sharpied phrase from my arm this morning.)  Us college kids really take any opportunity we can get to dress up.  Anyway it was cool to hang out with so many Jews from Unimelb and other Melbourne universities, hear some megilah and participate in the general shenanigans.  It's safe to say there were some drunk people there. (That's a mitzvah, right?)  So, to sum up, a bit of a shit show but definitely an all-around good time.  They even gave us mishloach manot (remember what I said about the free food).

Tomorrow I'm leaving for my weekend trip to the Great Ocean Road (google map that, people).  Four of us are renting a car to tour  the beaches and see the sights.  I'm anticipating a large quantity of beauty.  Pictures will be taken.

Finally, tonight MUSEX is doing a laneway bar crawl.  Melbourne is like an ant farm in that a huge amount of the culture and night life is tucked away in a vast network of laneways (alleys), and you can keep discovering new things.  I'm not sure if I'm going to go because I don't want to drink, but I do want to see the laneways, so that's still up in the air.  Maybe I'll just tag along for a bit.

Long post--thanks for reading.  Stay tuned for Great Ocean Road photos.

Sydney Road Street Party

When someone asks you if you want to go to a free music festival, and you have nothing better to do, and you had made a promise to yourself to do as many things as possible while in Australia, generally you go.  So I did.  Lorenzo--my Italian neighbor down the hall and basically the only other sociable person in my building--and I met up with a few friends at the Sydney Road for the street party this afternoon.  Lorenzo and I were out until 3 am last night at a karaoke and pool place, so I was already tired at the start of this whole adventure, but I'm glad I went.

There were multiple stages set up along the few blocks of closed-off Sydney Road (a few kilometers north of campus), and throughout the day there were a bunch of performances.  Technically this was a sort of preview of the Brunswick Music Festival, and a lot of the performers from today are playing again in the upcoming weeks.

Sydney Road Street Party

When we arrived, there was a really weird band on stage.  The drummer and rhythm guitarist were pretty normal by rock band standards, but the bass player looked like he was tweaking out in his own world.  And then there was the lead guitarist/singer, who had fro-like curly hair, big shades, and a gray suit with flared ankles--this guy was straight from the sixties.  As if he wasn't strange enough, he was singing a song about what it's like to get old; my favorite line, which he repeated several times: "I'm fifty!  I've got to get a colonoscopy!"  Despite the fact that they were totally weird, these guys were actually pretty decent musicians.  At one point a couple started doing some sort of salsa or swing dance in front of the stage (totally awkward at a retro rock concert, I know), and then this strung-out shirtless hippy dude was dancing a bit up there, too.  It's safe to say that free music festivals don't always attract the most normal of people.  Honestly, for me the people watching was almost as fun as the music itself.

Weird retro-rock bell-bottoms guitarist who sang about his colonoscopy

Lorenzo, our friends Monica and Alessandra, and I spent the rest of the day walking around the street, looking at all the clothes, food (you name it, they had that cuisine), and art the vendors had set up, and watching the other performances.  During happy hour we wandered into a funky dive bar/beer garden for a quick drink.  The place sort of reminded me of a frat house, both in terms of the way it smelled (cigarettes, old furniture, and body odor) and the amazingly eclectic collection of art and drawings on the walls.  It was filled with hipsters, though, so we didn't stay long, but I'm glad I found that place.  Eventually we met up with a few other Italian girls that Lorenzo knows and whom I met a couple nights ago, and we continued to wander around the festival.

Does this really need a caption?

The lineup for this festival was really diverse.  There was a belly dancing group, a bunch of hari krishnas doing a musical procession with a drum, a group of three kids doing some pretty respectable freestyle rapping, and also a few people who just brought boom-boxes and set up impromptu dance parties.  The best (and last) group was an awesome jazzy-funk band called Saskwatch (check them out at www.saskwatch.com.au.)  The singer--the only woman among them--had an incredible set of pipes, and the musicians all knew what they were doing.  The sax player had a pretty sweet solo.

There were a bunch of small busker groups like this playing happy funky stuff.

Before we headed home, six of us stopped at a restaurant for an hour to grab drinks and dessert and chat.  Monica and I were the only non-Italians, but the others did a pretty good job of staying in English.  (Actually, I really like listening to them speak italian even though I don't understand it.  It's such a nice language!)  Lorenzo, Monica, Alessandra and I are going to try to drive the Great Ocean Road this weekend, so we also did some planning for that.  Can't wait.

So here I am back at home, exhausted because we probably walked multiple miles up and down Sydney Road.  I don't have class until 4:15 tomorrow, but I'm so tired I'm still going to bed early.  In all, not a terrible way to spend a weekend.

So they do play lacrosse in Australia!

Reading all the emails from the Princeton Club Lax listserve, I've started to miss lacrosse a bit.  And when I decided to come to Australia I thought I wouldn't get to play again until next fall, because I assumed they had never even heard of it here.  Apparently I was wrong.  In the past few days I've been approached by two different lacrosse clubs, one on campus and another one at the Sydney Road festival (post is upcoming).  Wooo!  Maybe I'll get to play after all.  I'm not sure what level these programs are at, or whether anyone in Australia is even very good (not that I am), but hopefully one of them will be in the market for a fogo.  If only I had packed my twig and bowl...

Week one, done.  That wasn't so bad.  I found all my classrooms without looking like a complete n00b.  I've understood everything in each class so far.  In fact, I'd say this is pretty damn good...

• Today I had my Australia and America tutorial.  It was way more interesting than the lecture.  The group is slightly more diverse than the lecture demographic suggested.  I'd say about 2:1 American/Australian ratio, with some chinese exchange students mixed in.  I'm one of three from Boston, including a girl from Newton (it's a small world, people).  We did a fascinating exercise where the Australians listed the stereotypes knew had about Americans, and the Americans listed the ones they knew about Australians.  They said Americans are nationalistic, ignorant of global issues, religious, powerful, and overly politically correct.  Not too far off, actually.  Australians are friendly, outdoorsy, crocodile-hunting people who really like to drink.  I think they pegged us way more accurately than we pegged them.  I'm glad I'm taking this class.
• The Global Environment is still laughably fundamental, but I'm finding lectures pretty interesting.  Today we learned about the geological formation of the earth, and what we know about it from meteorites we've found on earth.  Apparently more of these meteorites have been found in Western Australia than anywhere else, so this is a really good place to be learning this stuff.  Did you know the moon used to be part of the earth?
• I've got the hang of everything in Controls so far, but I can smell the difficulty coming from a mile away.  Yikes!
• The professor for Science and Society was out of town, so the tutor gave the lectures this week.  Despite his impressive qualifications, he's not the most captivating lecturer.  I wasn't expecting this class to be so philosophical; it seems like we've been asking a ton of meta questions about the relationship between science and society and we haven't jumped into many case studies yet.  I wonder what the professor's lectures will be like.

Although it still feels like much longer, I've now lived in Australia for three weeks.  I now look the correct (right) direction when crossing the street, I know the values of all the coins, and I'm starting to even use Australian phrases like "how're you going."  I'm eating tremendously well and for very cheap (no restaurants yet), and I'm planning all sorts of cool stuff to do.

Yesterday I bought tickets for the Australian Grand Prix which is here in two weeks.  Ben is coming up from Sydney to stay with me and watch it, too.  It will be my first Formula1 race (actually my frist motorsport race) ever, so I'm pretty stoked.  I'm probably going to root for Lewis Hamilton.