HALFWAY HOME - SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA - DAY 15
I wake up every hour until I finally get up before my alarm at 5AM. The entire process is very easy, and I catch the cheapest bus to the airport. I check my bag, buy breakfast and coffee to get rid of my NZ coins, then go through security, customs, and passport control before boarding.
I meet this lovely Malaysian couple, Roger and Lucia, (pronounced “Loosha”). They’re heading to Sydney for a wedding with Lucia’s best friends since Kindergarten. They’re fully assimilated as Kiwis- They’ve been living in NZ for 20 years, and obviously love it! I told them about my friends and our travels. We talk about Maori culture, rugby, Hakas, and Roger’s traditional Maori tattoo on his arm. Every symbol has a meaning, representing his family and his family’s transition from living in Malaysia and then to NZ. It was a beautiful tattoo done by a very skilled Maori artist- You could definitely tell in the detail and the quality.
We quiet down as the plane takes off. I cat nap, eat some more, and read my new book. The flight goes well, we land, and I farewell my new friends, wishing them a fun time at the wedding, and a well journey. It was really nice to meet them.
I pick up my luggage, throw away an NZ sea shell, and go through border patrol. I get nervous because after marking that I had my boots, walked through nature, and had marked that I had medicines, they put me over in a special line. There was only a Chinese girl there with me. They keep her, take one look at my paper and me, and let me just walk away. I was a little shocked, but also relieved. Everyone who doesn't live under a rock knows that racial profiling exists, especially in an airport... But holy crap, did that really just happen?
I stop to FaceTime you guys, and take the shuttle over to the hostel. Before leaving the airport, I check-in for my flight tomorrow. I begin to sweat as the agent has to call in my passport. I had to explain that I entered the country with my Australian visa using my Swedish passport, and will be returning home to the States using my American passport. They sort out the confusion quickly, and I take in a huge sigh of relief. Although I have to admit, I wouldn't have minded getting stuck in Australia a bit longer. I would love to see the outback, and Tasmania. I’ve already booked my other shuttle back to the airport- Just need to make sure I’m ready to leave the hostel by 6:15AM. I grab my last meat pie from Starbucks of all places, and chow down with some ketchup on the side. An Aussie passes by on the way to his flight, and as I take a massive bite he jokingly says "WAOW! LEWK AH' THA' MEET PAI"! We laugh at each other. I simply reply, "It's great"!
Back at the same hostel for a third time, I shower, and walk around the city in search of WiFi that actually works. I walk 6.5 miles, and make it halfway to the Opera House. I’m too tired, and my backpack with my cameras is honestly too heavy to make the full trek there and back. (The smaller backpack with all of my gear has been heavier than my larger backpack for the whole trip).
While walking, I pass a bar with a Viking door called Mjölner, (the name of Thor’s hammer). I take a peak inside, but it’s just okay, and frankly I decide that once again, I'm too underdressed to go in. I end up at Hyde Park, and carry on further with reading my new book. The sun is setting and the temperatures drop INSTANTLY. Even with my sweatshirt, it’s VERY cold. A few short pages into reading, I double back to the hostel for warmth. I hang out for an hour, reading more of my book on my bed, say a quick “Hi” to my three other roommates who zoom out the door as quickly as they came in.
I run out for a quick bite to eat at the same Persian place I ate last time with Rachel. It was pretty good, and very cheap. It’s Saturday, so it was supposed to be another free Aussie bbq at the hostel, but they stopped serving for Winter...Of course. I was hoping for a quick free dinner, but cheap is close to free so it’s fine. I inhale my food, chat with Andrea, the same waitress as last time and tell her about our travels, head back, and get ready for bed by 8pm.
As Mom and Dad know, I’m reluctant to go back to reality. I’m nothing but overjoyed and grateful for my time here in Australia, and New Zealand- I blinked and it was over! What I’m saddened about is that I really don’t have anything to come home to, career wise. I plan to meet up with my mentor, and then research jobs elsewhere I guess, (I don’t even know). It always feels good to be away from home to escape the egos, the traffic, the often ignorant and superficial people, and the industry grind itself. But of course, I need work to justify me staying anywhere else.
The West always seemed like the logical next step after college, but now that our new home proves it has nothing for me four years later, I really don’t know what’s next, or where to go. I’ll keep praying about it. God always seemed/s to work miracles rather quickly and timely for my travels, which I’m thankful for. But I can’t keep doing that without working, or I’ll just burn through all of my savings. I have no idea what He wants me to do, or what He’s doing with my life otherwise. All of “that stuff” seems to be at a standstill. I'm also fully aware that this is such a first world problem, specifically for middle class people, and it's entirely pretentious for me to think that God's work revolves around me getting my dream career just because I've wanted it, and have been working toward it since I was 15.
I just hope I get some jobs in the meantime to sustain myself...
Other than that anxiety-ridden, depressed note, this trip has been nothing short of incredible. I can't believe I got to do two BIG trips in a row this year with some of my closest, life-long friends. That truly is living the dream, and a miracle in and of itself.
See you guys in almost 24hrs. Love you!
-eM
