Final Good-Byes

April 4, 2002

This is my last email from Gold Coast

Good-bye ocean; good-bye beach; good-bye mountains; stores, & café lined avenues. Good-bye to the perennial sunshine & ever-blue skies. Although we may have set a record by being here for seven months & never swimming in the ocean on the Gold Coast, we’ll miss it all.

Welcome to Syd & Janet Bruce as well as their children Daniel & Rebekka. Welcome also to three other Gold Coast families who join the list of those who get this email. They bring to seventy-three the number of email addresses to which I send this journal.

We had our weekly dinner at the Thai restaurant last night. All went as it should. We had a rollicking good time & pretended we weren’t leaving. Well, there was that moment when Janet Bruce & I almost lost it while standing in the queue waiting to order. As we hugged & said our farewells, I thought I would be able to walk away without a tear. Then I realized we’d been standing in front of the closed restaurant for a half hour & none of us was willing to be the first to break away. Finally, David made the move, took me by the arm, & announced that we were going to farewell the Pacific Ocean before it got too late. It was as if he thought it might close by the time we got to the beach. There was a last- ditch round of hugs as Janet bravely hung onto the fact that this wasn’t really a final good-bye. We had to drop off the linens at her house tomorrow & would see her again.

When we walked away, the tears came. We were turning our backs on people who knew we were here for the short term, but who embraced us into their family as if we were to become a permanent part of their lives. They fought to the end to make us want to stay & used every trick in the book. They played the weather card: spring snows in March vs. autumn in March with blazing bush loads of flowers. They played the lifestyle card: the hustle bustle of the city vs. laid back Aussie mates on the Gold Coast. And they played the guilt card: how can you leave the congregation without a rabbi now that they’ve had a taste of what it’s like to have one? Even with all their good arguments, the family card won. It trumped their ace.

Toby

Lasts

March 31, 2002-Sex Saga

I couldn’t resist one more chapter in the sex worker saga. The paper announced that a soon to be opened brothel in Queensland would cater to men as well as women. They claimed that Sydney & Melbourne were already filling the need & they intended to keep up. Sorry about that pun.

We got our last set of photos back today. I got some great “tusch” (rear-end, bum) shots of the guys at the surf lifesavers competition. One is suitable for a postcard. April 1, 2002-In The Chips

I had lunch today with a woman who is studying for conversion & is eager to go to Israel to live. Yes, she intends to change her last name when she’s Jewish. David suggested that she convert in Israel since the orthodox have just been forced to recognize progressive conversions. That ruling by the Supreme Court can be overturned by the K’nesset ( Parliament). During our conversation, she mentioned that a rabbi asked her if she believed that Jesus is the Messiah. She said that she was brought up as a Christian & that’s what she was taught. I tried to pin her down & it seemed that she couldn’t say she no longer believed that Jesus is the Messiah. That makes her a Christian. I’m happy David won’t be continuing his work with her. Something about it doesn’t feel right.

While I was lunching David was across the street at Jupiter’s Casino. It was his first foray into gambling there & he managed to escape with only a $A 40 loss. That puts him ahead by $A 50 in gambling for our entire stay. The good thing here is that when you lose, you don’t lose a lot in U.S. dollars. But then when you win, you don’t win a lot either.

Some of the things at the casino were different than in the States. David plays blackjack & if there were no seats open at a table, people would “play behind” someone who was seated. They would bet on his hand & place the chips on the table next to the seated “player.” Another difference was that if the player wanted to double his bet, he could. After he saw his last card he could withdraw the double losing only his original bet even if the dealer breaks (goes over 21). That seemed kind of generous on the part of the house. They also pay higher if you get “21” with 5,6, or 7 cards.

April 2, 2002-Provisions

We’re down to one roll of toilet paper. We should make it on that, but we’re taking precautionary measures just in case. We were at the mall & decided it would be more prudent to use the public toilet facilities instead of waiting to get back to the apartment Waste not want not.

We sent two more parcels home today. We still have one more box to mail tomorrow. How could we have two more to ship home than we shipped here? We used up a whole bunch of stuff in the seven months. I thought we’d come out even. I guess we bought more “souvenirs” than we thought we would. Yesterday a family came by to give us a huge & heavy book on Australian history. It comes with a CD & is a magnificent gift, but it took up a lot of room in the box we sent out.

April 3, 2002-Our World

Today was supposed to be our easy day. David had services for the last day of Pesach in the morning. He said there were a lot of tears as he left. He too felt sad knowing they really do need a rabbi but have a slim chance of getting one. Hopefully, this will be the last of the lasts for him. We planned to pack the last box & our suitcases in the afternoon, mail the box at the Post, pick up the rental car we were taking to Sydney, & return the temple car, TV, & VCR. We’d figured on a short “afternoon sleep,” as they say here, & dinner at the Thai restaurant with the Bruces tonight. Now would be a good time for those of you who saved these emails to re-read August 8, 2001, paragraph three. In it I mention how we miscalculated the time we needed to pack to come here. We did it again. One of the problems was that it was awhile before we could admit we needed yet another box. The total is now six parcels coming & nine going home. That meant we had to walk across the street to the Post, debate over whether to get a medium or a large box, buy it, & decide what went into it. I also had to buy a card for a thank you note to my manicurist who’d gotten me a gift. Fortunately, it was small. In my super-efficient state, I suggested that David get the luggage cart from the complex, so we could load not only the now two more boxes, but also the TV & VCR. As we pulled out of the garage to go to the Post for what we hoped would be the last time, we realized we’d intended to return the TV & VCR when we returned the car, but they were now in the back seat. We didn’t think it was safe to leave them there in plain sight until we got the rental car, so we made an extra trip to the Bruces to return them.

At 5:30PM we went to get our rental. We’d ordered a Toyota Corolla size & were afraid it would be too small for our luggage to fit in the trunk. Lucky for us, we got an upgrade. It’s a white Mitsubishi Magna. We came home & loaded everything into the car. We’re ready to roll after our haircuts tomorrow morning.

We cut it close on provisions, but I’m happy to report we still have most of a roll of toilet paper left. The soap is holding out now that I redirected the shower so that it doesn’t pound down so directly & melt the bar away too fast. We’re down to our last piece of matzo but do have some peanut butter & a bit of jelly for breakfast tomorrow. Since Passover ends tonight, we can pull out the rolls & cereal I had stashed away. There’s enough OJ for our morning vitamins & we have one apple to take with us in the car. Life is good.

I was driving the temple car as we pulled away from the car rental office & I got a rush of excitement. Our adventure was ending, but our adventure was beginning too. We’ll once again be a self-contained unit. We’ll be encapsulated in our little white pod & roam freely. We only have to be in Sydney by evening on April 9th. Until then we’re once again in our own tiny world of us.

Toby

Never Ceases To Surprise

March 30, 2002-Updates

When we spoke to Daniel & Vikki at their Seder, Vikki asked how the soap was holding out. I told her we were OK for soap, but we might not have enough toilet paper. Daniel suggested we eat a lot of matzo. For those of you who haven’t experienced a week of eating matzo, just let me tell you it’s referred to in the Seder liturgy as the “bread of affliction.” To put it mildly, it has anti-diarrhea properties. That’s why dried fruit also makes an appearance during Pesach.

This is an Aussie Easter update. They do have Easter bunnies, but, if you recall, rabbits are considered vermin here & are regularly exterminated. People look upon rabbits as we would rats. Somehow an Easter rat wouldn’t fly with us. They’ve tried to introduce the Easter Bilby to replace it. I’m not sure what a bilby is, but it’s some sort of an indigenous furry marsupial. The effort hasn’t been successful with the tally still giving the rabbit the lead. You can’t fight the marketing of Madison Ave. when it comes to chocolate Easter treats.

I went to services here for the last time last night. There will be services for the end of Pesach, but I don’t usually go to those. The soloist realized it was the last she would see of me & started to cry. I really didn’t expect that kind of reaction. I feel sorry for the people we’re leaving because they can’t come with us, not because we can’t stay here. I really think the U.S. is still a better place to live with all of its pimples. Australia is the only other place in the world we’ve been to, language aside, where we would ever consider living. David feels that he’s abandoning the people here. When he has left congregations in the past, he felt confident that they were going to be able to find a new rabbi who would serve them well. He knows that this congregation will once again be without professional leadership. He’s really liked the life-style here. When I asked him if he would reconsider Florida, he said he thought the lifestyle there wasn’t as laid back as it is here. He’s right. He also likes that our money is worth so much more here.

Toting It Up

The Bruces took us to the Gold Coast Race Track this afternoon. They own interests in two horses neither of which ran today. Once again, we were taken with the differences. In the book, Song of Solomon, by Bryce Courtenay, there’s a detailed description of bookies who worked at the tracks. They still have them today. They’re set up along a wall & are a study in contrasts. The tote boards are archaic manual contraptions where the odds are laboriously displayed. Each bookie has his own computer to figure the odds, although one man still did it manually. Once the odds are posted & a wager is placed with a bookie, the odds are locked in for that bet no matter how they change before the race. There are also Para mutual betting windows run by the track where you can place a bet. There you risk the odds changing at the last minute. When you place a bet with a bookie, you give your money to a man who’s holding a very large satchel, a tote bag. He puts your money in the bag & hands you a ticket where he’s hand written your wager. Bets as low as $A 0.50 are permissible. Since it’s legal to bet on races taking place anywhere in the world, there are simultaneous broadcasts & opportunities to bet on events all around the country as well as England when they run there. It was quite confusing since all of the races running at that time were being announced & shown on the TV monitors. Another difference is that minors are allowed & encouraged to come. It’s family entertainment & there’s even a playground.

Before the first race we noticed that the horses ran opposite of the way they do in the U.S. That was a good thing since it helps to be able to know where to look when the horses run. There was an epidemic of runaways & false starts when they had trouble with the starting gate. The horses that jumped the gun were eliminated from the race & we got our money back for the wagers. David always bets on the same numbers & didn’t deviate this time. Syd studied the racing form like it was holy & placed his bets based on the knowledge of each horse. David won twice. We came out $A 75 ahead. Syd had one small win.

We ended our day with a walk by the ocean to see the full moon. It was reflecting on the water & was a melancholy reminder that this was our last time to see it that way. David felt like an ice cream after dinner so we headed to our favorite stand. Without thinking & with remarks about the fact that he was getting the last scoop from the container, David ordered his ice cream in a cup. He usually gets it in a cone, but chose the cup in deference to Pesach. As we walked away & he dug his spoon into the ice cream, it hit me that he’d ordered cookies & cream. I stopped him in time & after we got over the giggles about how obtuse we were, he went back for another cup. In order to save face, he pretended that I had changed my mind & ordered chocolate. I trashed the C & C. That was a close call.

Toby

Seder

March 29, 2002-Gratitude

Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate. It’s Good Friday here & we awoke to a major electrical storm. It felt good to go out without having to slather my arms & legs in sunscreen. Rain also added to the already huge return of the King Tide. ‘Tis the season.

The second Seder at temple last night went very well, I thought. The tables were beautifully set with attention to detail. The man who moved here recently from Adelaide was the only person who would take on the responsibility of preparing the meal this year. He cooked all the food with the help of the women’s guild. I imagine it was pretty amusing to see him bossing those women around a kitchen that had been their domain. He made his own matzo balls, soup, & gefilte fish (ground fish made into balls & cooked) as well as the main course & dessert. The food was presented well & the service was well organized. None of the guests had to lift a finger. Our new member had seen to it that there were people available to serve & to clear.

Naturally, the natives were dissatisfied. When David went around to speak to people at other tables & generally to circulate, he was met with a great deal of hostility. There were complaints that the soup was cold (it was), the fish was tasteless (it was), & the portions of the main course were small (they were, or the plates were too big). On the other hand, there was plenty to eat. With all the food that comes before the main meal (chicken soup with matzo balls, gefilte fish, chopped liver, & matzo), no one went home hungry. Tepid soup isn’t unusual when there are no tureens available. There aren’t even any warmers in which to keep the soup until it can be served. The homemade horseradish sauce that went with the fish added the needed flavor.

Towards the end of the evening, a hard worker & temple leader, came over to our table. He leaned over us & whispered that we would remember our time here & the many wonderful occasions there were & we would also remember the worst Seder the temple ever had. I reminded him that there wouldn’t have been a Seder at all if it hadn’t been for our new volunteer. He said that he was worried he'd want to do it next year. I told him to try to find someone else for next year or not have one at all. I also told him I would also remember the unkind words that had been said & the ungracious attitude of the people who came. I reminded him that it would be extremely hurtful if those comments got back to the new guy. He assured me that he wouldn’t say anything, but I assured him that others would.

Sure enough, as I was leaving, I went up to thank our new hard working volunteer again. I didn’t say anything about the criticism but he was laughing about it already. The petty remarks had gotten back to him. He said that next year he’d be sure that the temple had proper warming ovens. He joked about the fact that Jews weren’t happy unless they could complain. He quoted a Yiddish saying that his mother had that said that if Jews couldn’t complain, their stomachs would fall out. It sounds better in Yiddish. He has such a healthy attitude about it all. His ego was intact & he was ready for a re-match. I was so impressed with his positive mindset & strong self-esteem. I wish all volunteers could have their feelings so well armored & their sensibilities so secure. I also wish people would be more grateful about efforts made by volunteers & kinder about critical statements that come out of their mouths.

Now for details on the differences in the foods. One of the items on the Seder plate is charoset. It represents the bricks used by the slaves to build the storehouses of the Egyptians, yet it’s sweet. It’s a mixed symbol that includes the sweetness of the freedom that was attained. I usually make it with chopped apples, walnuts, & wine. I’ve seen it made with cinnamon, honey, &/or apricots added. Michael’s charoset was made from chopped apples, carrots, honey, raisins, wine, & slivered almonds. His fruit compote was the usual cooked dried fruit, but he added port to give it a great tang.

There were people from Warner Brothers who showed up for the Seder as well. They had just arrived on the Gold Coast & were slightly jet lagged, but had emailed ahead to make the arrangements. They’d gone online in New York using “Jewish Gold Coast” & found our congregation. They’re here wrapping up the shoot of Ghost Story with Juliana Margolise & starting on a new project. They’ll be here for nine months. The only name that was vaguely familiar was Richard Mirisch. They were very grateful to find the congregation & at least one of them said he was a regular temple goer.

Caring

We got a call this morning from a member of the congregation I’d written about in earlier emails. She’s a veteran of the Israeli army who has a steel plate in her head where she was injured by a grenade. She’s in her late 70’s & was widowed three years ago. She’s still grieving for her husband & has latched onto us as if we were her children. She was in Pindara Private Hospital & wanted us to visit. It was my first time in a hospital here & I was suspect of any hospital that was only one story high. It looked more like a motel. She was in a semi-private room, but didn’t have a roommate. The room was basic & even had a huge old oxygen tank sitting in the corner. During our conversation with her, she mentioned that her doctor took a lot of time with her. Through their conversations, he learned that she’d lost her appetite. He prescribed a shot of whiskey with her meals to stimulate her appetite. Sure enough, her lunch arrived & she toasted us with her “schnapps.” David said that in all the years he’d visited people in hospitals, he’d never heard of whiskey being prescribed for any reason. I guess it wasn’t so unusual here since the kitchen seemed to be able to fill the request. With all of the lack of modernity, it seems that her doctor is listening & finding somewhat unorthodox solutions.

Toby

Passover

March 28, 2002-The Oz Way

We had an unusual Seder at the Bruce’s last night. Ben, Syd Bruce’s 80-something year old father, led the group through the traditional readings & songs. The difference was that he didn’t read any English & he read the Hebrew at breakneck speed. Only a few could keep up. David kept holding up his hand & indicating with his fingers what page & what line Ben was on. There was no way anyone could have gotten anything out of it. It was incomprehensible. No one would have known when we got to the plagues except that David called out, “Plagues.” That’s the part of the Seder dealing with plagues God visited upon the Egyptians when the Pharaoh wouldn’t free the slaves. They do it the same way here. As each plague is mentioned, they dip their little finger into their cup of wine, place the drop on their plate then lick their finger.

I’m so happy we conduct our Seders in a way that allows children & non-Jews attending to grasp the story of the escape from slavery in Egypt to freedom & to appreciate the history that goes along with it all. When David conducts the second Seder at temple tonight, he’ll follow our tradition of doing a lot in English & calling on individuals to read. The only problem he’ll have is keeping a straight face when the liturgy refers to it being the “springtide of the year.” Here it’s autumn, although, back home there was snow.

The food was a different story. Everyone outdid themselves in the cooking department. There were a few foods we usually don’t see at our Seders. An Aunt made coleslaw. The mains were corned beef, chicken, & lamb chops. Rebekka Bruce, their 18 year old daughter, impressed us all with a delicious vegetable terrine. I had the easy part. I brought the hard-boiled eggs, fruit compote, & dessert. I happened to find a delicious ready-made chocolate chip cake I served with ice cream & hard shell chocolate sauce. They knew if I brought dessert it would have to be chocolate. Ben ended up taking home a goodly part of the leftover cake. He’s a not so closet chocoholic.

Conversations & arguments were bouncing off the walls. An uncle took David on regarding the issue of orthodoxy vs. progressive Judaism. The brother of Rebekka’s boyfriend, launched into a dissertation about what’s wrong with American reform Jewry. I entered into a fruitless debate & got lost in his mire of unsubstantiated statistics that he quoted to prove any point he wanted to make. Syd ricocheted between taunting him & maligning the uncle's romanticizing of orthodoxy. Rebekka’s boyfriend, stayed very close to the toilet since the Thai food he had the night before was still causing him grief. And Chloe, the very chubby whippet, made the best of all the tumult by going begging.

During a lull, I was in the kitchen helping to serve. Syd walked in & gave Rebekka a kiss. I let out a pitiful moan & said it made me really miss not being with my children. Rebekka turned to me with open arms & I gave her the hug I had inside me. I doubt that my kids could feel it over the great distance, but it helped me. In case our family felt a warm glow around 6 AM on Wed. morning, your time, that would be my hug.

The Bruces are hoping to come to the U.S. some time in August. Syd has a meeting in the Tacoma, Washington area & wants to use his air miles to bring the family. There’s a pass they can buy that allows three stopovers stateside. I doubt they’ll use one of those for Akron/Cleveland, but if they’re within striking distance (e.g. New York) we may get to see them. They have a Fodor’s USA book & a map of the U.S., so I know they’re serious. It was strange to read a guidebook on what’s so familiar to me. I looked up Akron/Cleveland & chuckled at some of their restaurant/hotel picks. For those of you in the area, Luigi’s, The Inn at Turner’s Mill, & the Barecelli Inn made the cut. The Sheraton in the Falls did as well as the Comfort Inn in Montrose.

Holy Cow!

We said “good-bye” to the dry cleaner today. They’ve been delightful to do business with & one of the women in particular is charming. For those of you who remember way back in the emails, we promised to look up her daughter’s boyfriend at the Mustard Seed in Solon. There are times when I still don’t understand them when they speak, & this was one of those times. The “charmer” said she was happy we had really good weather for our stay & we enjoyed good health while here. I mentioned my nose surgery & she said that she also had plastic surgery on her nose many years ago. She spent her youth at the beach in the sun & she & her friends always looked like “little (insert N-word here).” Well, I wasn’t sure that was what I heard & it was said as we were on our way out the door. As David & I strolled along, we turned to each other to corroborate what we thought was said. Yes indeed, it was another incident of “same, same….but different.”

Another difference here is that most places of business are closed for Good Friday, but are open on Easter. That’s good for us. We’ll go to the movies.

David just read the sports section of the paper & related this to me. Last night was a major footy game. Footy is rugby by any other name. They had the Red Army Choir there for the event. I didn’t even know there was still a Red Army. It was promoted as a performance of “Traditional Russian Folk Music & Dance of the Cossacks.” The concert was after the game was over & ended with the choir singing Hava Nagilah, an Israeli song. Evidently people got up & tried to join in dancing the hora, an Israeli circle dance. It’s a stretch, but if you figure that some of the Cossacks messed with some of our relatives who later ended up in Israel, well, then maybe Hava Nagilah can be a Cossack song.

Toby

Tenses

March 26, 2002-Past Tense
(photos:With Syd & Janet at Boonchu,
Flying foxes)

Happy Passover to any & all.

We had the Bruces over for a BBQ last night & we’re going to the Thai restaurant with them tonight. We’ll have the first Seder at their house on Wed. & second Seder at the Temple, where they’ll also be. I guess we’re getting as much exposure to them as possible now that we’re leaving.

We sat out by the pool for the BBQ. They have gas grills & tables. It’s all very pretty. I had typical Aussie fare: beef sausages, lamb chops, & steaks. It was a banquet. There’s enough left over to feed us until we leave. We took Syd & Janet to the IGA for dessert. We all got to choose from ice cream bars, candy bars, or pastry. It was yummy.

Vikki just sent us photos of the ultrasound of the baby’s foot & face. The foot is really cute & the face looks like an alien. Luckily, it was labeled as to where the chin was. Actually, it does look like a face. I told her it had a small resemblance to David.

We’re trying to use up the roll of film in the camera so we can have it developed before we leave. We went out looking for bats this afternoon. There are a bunch of flying foxes that hang out (literally) in some trees in a park near us. I was able to get a good shot of them. They were pretty active for nocturnal creatures. As I was walking away, David asked me what the sign said. It was a warning, of course, that the flying foxes can be dangerous & to avoid contact with them. Since there is no rabies in Australia, I didn’t understand what the extreme danger could be. I later found out they carry a virus that causes death within a day or two. I took a picture of the sign. Add that to your list of things to avoid on the Deadly Continent.

March 27, 2002-Future Tense

We spoke to Richard, the owner of the Thai restaurant we’ve been going to. David asked what the name of the place meant. Richard said that Boon Chu was the name of a “most high Buddha.” He’s used it for his restaurant & for the name of the two gyms he owns. He trains boxers & Thai kick-boxers. Recently, the Boon Chu name was carried as far as Las Vegas. One of his boxers won a match there. Richard seems to be the sort of kind-hearted soul who rescues street kids. The boxer in Vegas was one of the “losers” he turned into a winner.

Like all obnoxious grandparents-to-be, I showed ultrasound images to the Bruces. Syd decided it was a very large foot given the age of the babe. We told him it came by it honestly considering the size of Horowitz feet. He called it Bigfoot. Janet examined the “head shot,” but tried to focus lower down in the morass of black & gray smudges. She noticed a bright glimmer & decided it was a boy. I think it was just one of those echo smudges that come out all over the ultrasound. This one just happened to be in a suspicious spot.

I just finished cleaning the apartment for the last time. What a joy! Now I can go back to my behemoth of a house. Hmmm, which is better, a place that takes 45 minutes to clean or one that takes all day?

Wendy & her partner, Julie, got back from their vacation in the Bahamas. Wendy said they wanted to go on a snorkeling boat. The person who booked the tour made a tiny error. They ended up with a boat full of spring breakers whose sole goal was to consume as many free Bahama Mama rum drinks as possible. It got a little gross when the guys started pulling down their pants. Talk about being out of your element. At least they did get to snorkel & enjoy a beach cookout. I told Wendy the one thing she will always remember when asked about the Bahamas is the cruise. I wonder if this goes along with the general theme of Horowitz Family Goes Boating? We have almost sunk several boats, run them aground, & ended up on painful boat tours that took us to the peak of an almost extinct volcano. After climbing for a mile straight up, we were rewarded with meager belches of smoke. We’ve jumped from a major sailing ship & swum through ¼ mile of roiling ocean to sit in the mud & bask in the warmth of tepid “hot” springs. We’ve sailed off to see amazing sunsets accessible only by mule & by climbing 150 steps. Most recently, we froze our booties off trying to entice some dolphin to swim with us.

We’ve just been told about the demise of G.D. Ritzi’s restaurant in Akron. It occurred to us that in our absence there could have been other changes on the culinary scene at home. We would hate to return with taste buds set for a long awaited treat only to find that one of our favorite eating-places has succumbed. We’d also like to know if there have been any new openings that might set our palates tingling with anticipation. Please advise.

Toby

Land and Sea

March 21, 2002-Truth or Friction?
(photo-Surf lifesavers)

We’re down to our last bar of soap for the shower. Hope I can get two weeks out of it. That’s what we have left here. As I mentioned to you, we have very little in the way of clothing. I do happen to have a lot of detergent. When David came home today, I told him I had done a load of laundry. Since his other shirt is clean, I told him he could now sweat.

Tuesday night David had a discussion about the differences between orthodox & progressive Judaism. He invited the orthodox rabbi to join in the presentation & discussion. He invited him verbally & by letter. The rabbi finally responded in writing with the statement that the organization of orthodox rabbis in Australia prohibited his participation in programs such as this that took place at progressive congregations. One of our members called several orthodox rabbis he knew around Australia & they all said they would participate & have participated in such programs. They indicated there was no such policy. I guess that makes the orthodox rabbi here a liar & a coward. He refuses to give credence to any progressive rabbi & has never referred to David by title in public.

The discussion went well & David started out by giving his “History of Judaism in seven minutes.” It turned out to be more like seventeen minutes, but was amazingly cogent & complete. As those of you who have heard him speak know, he did it without notes. As many times as I’ve seen him speak off the cuff, it still amazes me. David spoke of his version of keeping kosher (observing dietary laws). He said he didn’t eat “dead pig” nor did he eat any of the prohibited sea creatures (shellfish & anything else that was a scavenger or doesn’t have fins & gills). Referring to things from the deep, he jokingly said that left nothing else good to eat. One of the attendees was from the orthodox synagogue. She took umbrage with his statement that there was nothing good to eat that was kosher. She totally missed the point & the humor. Throughout the evening she kept returning to that issue. As it turns out, she’s Syd Bruce’s aunt. Yesterday, Syd called his cousin’s mobile. His cousin happened to be having lunch with his mother, the defender of everything kosher, at the Sheraton Hotel buffet. Syd asked to talk to his aunt to ask her what she was eating at this $A 59.95/person buffet that he knew was laden with all things traif (non-kosher). She stammered & made excuses, but she was had.

As a by-product of the surf lifesaving competition, our apartment hotel is very crowded. The event has brought 8,000 to the area. There was a big BBQ by the pool last night for the group. It’s now my turn to gawk. Most of the lifesavers are men & are they built! I think we’ll have wine on the balcony tonight so I can get an eyeful.

March 22, 2002-Transitions

I had a dream. Mine was a variation of David’s. I dreamed I was driving a car on the left side of the road. Traffic was coming towards me, and I was upset because I thought I was going the wrong way on a one-way street. I glanced to my right & realized I was on a two-way street in America. Oh, the transition! We’ll be in left-drive countries until we get to Amsterdam. We’re only there three days before we come home.

March 23, 2002-Hunks

Why didn’t any of you tell me Rosie O’Donnell came out? I had to learn it in the Australian papers. There was an article about her finding out that a company for which she did voiceovers is homophobic.

This morning was the bat mitzvah of a girl whose family is from California. We refer to them as the boat people. They rented out their house in California, bought a boat, & have been sailing the Pacific for two years. The kids were home schooled (or boat schooled) until they developed a major defect in the boat. It’s been in dry dock getting repaired since September. They joined the congregation & the girl began a crash course in Hebrew. She did great today. Her grandparents were in for the festivities. Her maternal grandfather has been living in Orlando, Florida since 1974, & knows a lot of the families I grew up with. It’s been fun reminiscing & catching up. As it turns out, her paternal grandfather & step-grandmother are very politically active in Washington, D.C. He's the retired congressman from San Jose, California. He had a lot of seniority & is still influential on the Hill. She worked on many of the congressional D.C. committees. They’re an extremely interesting couple. I now can say I’ve danced with a congressman. For 87 he cuts a mean rug.

We spent a little time at the Surf Lifesaving National Competition. The champions will compete in Daytona Beach, Florida next year. I sat next to a man who’d spent a year at the University of Nebraska on a rugby scholarship. He was one of the competitors & explained the different events. The seas were rough & the wind was blowing from the east. He said they like a bit of surf to add interest. There was such a strong rip to the north that they entered the water with their crafts headed south. In no time they were swept around & really had to battle not to be forced off course.

The lifesavers seem to know how to party. There’s been an increase in car accidents & tow truck sightings. We also saw a drug bust in front of our building including a drug dog. It was a beautiful German shepherd. Actually, I noticed the dog but it was who David figured out it was a bust.
Toby

Last Stuff

March 17, 2002-Good-byes
(photos:Water dragon & ibis our lunch partners,
Bunya tree warning)

We were farewelled today. They turned the noun into a verb & had a lovely lunch for us. They served corned beef sandwiches. We had a choice of white or rye bread. No, the bread wasn’t buttered. Some lovely words were said & they gave us a challah cover with a koala on it. I call it a choallah cover. David was moved by the realization that he’d influenced so many lives. I just grinned & nodded in agreement when asked if I was looking forward to going home.

On our way back to the apartment we passed a rainbow flag flying at a park entrance. We pulled in & tried to figure out which was the gay group. Contrary to popular stereotype, you can’t tell by looking. We were ready to give up when we noticed that someone was taking the flag down. We followed the flag & introduced ourselves to the group. It was a social club that meets weekly for drinks at a hotel bar & has frequent picnics. We took a card with contact information to give to one of our newest temple members. He’s gay & was very active in his temple in Adelaide. He’s organizing the temple Seder here & promises to be a wonderful addition to the community.
As we were leaving the park, a man stopped to ask us if we knew where the bats were. We actually did know. All he had to do was look up. They roost in the trees of that very park. He was a visitor to the area & I guess he thought he’d ask some natives.

I just realized that you could see where we live here by going online & searching under keywords: gold coast australia pacific international. The first one to come up on the list was Bel Air Resort. That would be us. There’s a picture of the exterior & the interior of an apartment that’s exactly like ours.
March 18, 2002-Seasonal Hazards

We just got back from mailing three more parcels home. We have one more to go. We’ll mail that on April 4, the day we leave. I now have three pairs of shorts, four t-shirts, two dresses, & a sweater as basic wardrobe. We’re only taking the really scaggy stuff to India & Africa. I’m not going to try to impress anyone with a style show.

We seemed to have missed the snake season. We didn’t know that it was going on. There was a news item on TV today that told about a nine-year old boy who was bitten when he stepped on a snake. They mentioned that the season was almost at an end & he was unlucky to be bitten. Do the snakes know this? By the way, he’s fine. He called “000,” the emergency number, on his mobile phone & used his t-shirt as a tourniquet until help came.

March 20, 2002-New Hazards

We spoke to Daniel, Vikki, & Alex yesterday. They had an ultra sound of the baby showing lots of detail. There’s a great shot of a foot that they’re going to scan & send to us. They told the tech they didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. I asked Alex if she wanted a boy or a girl. She said she wasn’t sure. If it was a boy they could get it the cutest little Nikes. In the background I heard Vikki say, “It’s all about shopping.” On the other hand, Alex said there are really cute little dresses for girls. Yes, I guess it is about shopping.

Bills are still coming in for my nose surgery. We got one from the anesthesiologist for $A 270 for thirty-seven minutes of time. When I looked at the doctor’s name, it indicated he had an MB degree. I assume that to be bachelors in medicine. He also had a BS (bachelor of science). I don’t get it. He was a certified anesthesiologist. We submitted the bill to insurance & they’ll reimburse us.

The surf life saving competition was delayed this morning because of sharks feeding on the enormous schools of fish that are still near the shore. Obviously, the shark nets have failed. In order to get the competition back on track, some competitors used powerboats & jet skis to herd the fish away from the area. Records might be broken this year. I bet they’ll be swimming & paddling a lot faster than usual. They’re nuts!

David had a free day yesterday so we went to Mt. Coot-tha near Brisbane. It’s where the Brisbane Botanical Gardens is located. Even though this is technically autumn, flowers are still in abundance and temperatures are in the high 90’s. We didn’t expect much, but it was spectacular. We had a refreshing lunch at their café & were joined by a couple of water dragons. They’re lizards about the size of iguanas. They were lolling all over the park. We discovered a new Australian danger. Evidently, the bunya tree can be lethal. It has huge cones that can injure, maim, &, in some cases, kill if they fall just right. There was a warning sign at the entrance to the path where they were planted.

The latest scandal in the headlines is about Senator Heffernan who accused Supreme Court Judge Kirby of using government cars to procure male prostitutes. The judge is openly gay & is possibly the most respected & best judge on the court. Unfortunately for all, Heffernan didn’t verify the documents he used to vilify the judge before he accused him on the floor of the senate. The time sheets offered as proof of misuse of the cars were forged. Prime Minister Howard, a close friend of Heffernan, asked for an unqualified apology & removed him from his position as parliamentary secretary. His political career is over.

We closed out a bank account today to take advantage of the favorable value of the Aussie dollar. We took out $A 2,000 & got $US 1,000 in Traveler’s Checks. It was traumatic. We are so used to having it go the other way. I wonder how long it will be before we adjust to a $100 item costing $100.

Toby

Disturbing Concessions

March 16, 2002-Confessions

You are all very flattering. I appreciate your suggestions to keep on writing the email from an American perspective or try to turn it into a newspaper column. The problem is it would become work if I had deadlines. It amazes me that I never come in after a day of touring & dread writing. I look forward to it. Some suggested I turn the emails into a book, but I’m clueless as to how to go about that. I’ll add several Aussies to my email list when we leave here so they can get the inside story of our further travels.

When I told my manicurist we toured a lobster factory & I had the definitive information on how to cook them, she was very interested. She said that when she boils them live they squeal. Ouch! When I told her they should first be drowned to kill them, there was a long silence. She looked very puzzled & said, “How do you drown something that lives in the water?” When I clarified that these were salt-water lobsters & that you had to drown them in fresh water, she said she had visions of having to hold her hand over their little faces while they were under water. We had a good laugh.

I’ve put off writing about this in hopes that I could cast it in a better light. After much thought about the incident, I’ve determined that there’s just no way to do that. I’m a bigot with what turns out to be strong prejudices. For those of you who don’t know what “hallal” means, it refers to Muslim dietary laws including the ritual slaughter of meat. Muslims slaughter by slitting the animal’s throat the same way kosher meat is killed for Jews. Muslims don’t eat pork, but shellfish is acceptable. When we were in Fremantle, a Turkish restaurant was recommended to us. It was basically a simple kebab place with a more varied menu. As we were seated, I noticed the phrase “hallal” on the sign. I then noticed they had a certificate verifying they were indeed approved for that designation. Since September 11, I’ve become very sensitive. I got very uncomfortable & we left. By all indications, the owners were very observant Muslims & I didn’t want any of my money going to support causes whose tenets might be to do my country or my people harm.

Yesterday, Radio National (similar to our National Public Radio) had a call in show on the subject of the Middle East. Radio National isn’t a show that attracts loonies like the Rush Limbaugh Show does at home. It has presented many progressive thinking & open discussions in the past. This time I was appalled at the anti-American sentiment. Callers said that the events of September 11 were the results of the U.S. policy towards Israel. Then the calls turned viciously anti-Israeli. I don’t wear rose-colored glasses as far as the mess in the Middle East is concerned, but I was shocked & alarmed by the tone of those calls. The callers kept referring to Palestine. Do they live in a time warp?

March 17, 2002-Guilt and Pleasures

To whom it may concern, Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

In the small world category, a member of the congregation has family visiting them from the U.S. The visitors live in Longwood, Florida. That’s the neighboring community to Orlando where I grew up. They know the entire family of one of my best friends from grade school & college roommate.

While buying a somewhat “controlled substance” at the pharmacy yesterday (1% cortisone cream) David was asked for his surname, which he gave. When asked for his Christian name, he said he didn’t have one. There was a moment of awkward silence & then he explained that he had a Hebrew name & a first name. The ding-a-ling at the counter then asked him if he had a name that he used, like in school. Ah, the bliss of ignorance!

We went to see Rabbit-Proof Fence last night. We figured it wouldn’t be easy to find at a theater in the States. It wasn’t even easy to find a show here. It was being shown only once daily & when we got to the theater, it was empty. I was really surprised. I guess Australians are different from Americans. When there’s a film about the horrors we perpetrated in our past, we flock to the movies so we can bathe in guilt & drown in recrimination. Here, they just avoid, ignore, & bury. They figure they’re throwing $A 48,000/aboriginal person/year at the aborigines so, no worries, even if it isn’t working. The film was a bit disappointing. David said it was a twenty-minute story that took 1-½ hours to tell. The film takes place in 1931, but the policy was in place until 1970. We were never bored & there were a few surprises. The first thing I learned was that the “stolen generation” referred to the half-caste children (white & aborigine) who were forcibly removed from their homes so they could be raised in white society. I originally thought they removed full aborigine children as well. Another surprise was that the people who organized & perpetrated this injustice were all well meaning. This was not done to inflict harm or cause pain. The Australians sincerely believed the half-castes could be classified as black or white. They decided to classify them as white & to give them every advantage of white society by removing them from everything aborigine. The goal was to “breed the black out of them” in three generations. The scariest realization for me was that they committed this atrocity out of the goodness of their hearts. At the end of the film, before the credits rolled, there was a narrative to bring the viewer up to date. This was a shocker. Molly, the fourteen year old who led her sister & cousin on their 1200-mile odyssey of an escape from the orphanage, later married & had two children. She was re-captured with her two children & escaped with them. Her three-year old was later re-captured & Molly never saw her again.

Toby

Killing Time

March 14, 2002-Styling City
(photos:Police & aborigines,
London Court,
Cheeky pelican & me)

We woke up an hour before we were supposed to this morning. The clock/radio had the wrong time & we didn’t notice it when we set it. We managed to occupy ourselves until it was time to check out. We had the day ahead of us & our flight didn’t leave until 11:15 PM.

Although we’d driven through Perth & had seen it from afar, this was our first opportunity to walk the streets & really feel the city. We found it to be surprisingly stylish with attractive modern buildings well blended with the old historic ones. A lot of restoration & preservation was going on & it seemed that the planners were doing it thoughtfully.

We ate brunch at a café on one of many pedestrian malls & watched the city wake up. It was alive with buskers, spruikers, & push cart vendors. There were more aboriginals than I expected to see & they were promenading the streets & socializing. There was a lot of interaction between them & the police, but it didn’t seem adversarial. The first thing I noticed was the abundance of police. The second thing I noticed was that the police wore shorts & had great legs. In the evening, the police presence is augmented by an aboriginal volunteer patrol that, as the police told us, handles “their own people.” The volunteers had no power to detain or arrest & had to call any problems in to a central police switchboard. The officers said that by the time the cop on the street heard about a problem it was resolved or had gotten out of hand.

We followed the walking tour in Fodor’s Guide Book & took advantage of the shops along the way. We did some serious souvenir shopping in stores that had far superior crap than I’d seen elsewhere in Australia. Our trek took us to an alley called London Court. It could have come out of a Harry Potter book. It was designed along the English half-timber style & the narrow lane gave the buildings the appearance of leaning in towards each other. St. John’s Pro-Cathedral, our next stop, had an unusual feature. There was a blue 5-gallon tank of holy water by the door. If you brought your own bottle, you were welcome to fill it from the tank. By the way, does anyone know what a pro-cathedral is? St. George’s Anglican Cathedral, built in the 1850’s, was a surprise. It was the first cathedral I’d seen that had brick interior arches. The ceiling was constructed of jarra wood that soaked in the river for two years until it was pliable enough to bend into beams. The cathedral was originally designed to be built of stone, but it was not possible to quarry the stones due to a convict shortage. They ended up making the bricks on site & using them instead.

When we found our walking tour was taking us past the new fire station, we realized there was nothing more worth seeing in Perth. We still had about nine hours to spend in the 90-degree heat until our flight. We headed south to Mandarah. It’s a small hamlet huddled around Peel Bay. Fortunately for us, it has some of the best homemade ice cream. We strolled along the water & were entertained by dolphin playing in the shallows. We found the pelicans as pushy as the seagulls & enjoyed their antics as they joined together to beg for handouts. Dogs & humans joined the menagerie in the water to make an entertaining sight.

I guess they don’t have the problem there that we have on the Gold Coast. We just read that there’s a shark feeding frenzy going on two blocks from our apartment. Beaches have been closed as hundreds of sharks gathered around an enormous school of fish. They divide up into groups of fifty or so & herd the fish into smaller more manageable groups so they can feed more easily. Word has it that whales have joined the fray. If I have enough energy when we return, I’ll walk down to the beach to see what it’s about. Tuesday begins the big week for the surf lifesavers competition. I wonder if they’ll cancel it or add a shark-roping event.

We went back to Northbridge in Perth for dinner at Harriet’s Restaurant. It was highly recommended, but we weren’t too optimistic. You know the drill about expectations. Were we surprised! The food was so good that we kept asking our server about it. We found out one interesting combination that made a great foccacio dip was sour cream & sweet chili. The man at the table next to us was alone & we struck up a conversation. He was from British Columbia in Canada & was a geological engineer. He was in Perth to meet with clients who were building a gold mine in Laos. Who would have thought that Laos had gold? Somehow, “Maybe I can interest you in a gold mine in Laos,” doesn’t have a ring of authenticity.

March 15, 2002

I love hearing from you all. Someone who gets these email, made an interesting observation after reading about our harrowing day of problems culminating with the night drive through kangaroo territory. Come to think of it, that would be the entire continent. She referred to it as a “pathetic litany.”

I am finishing the email from our apartment. The flight went off without a hitch except for the ungodly hour. We did get to see sunrise over the outback. It looked like the sky was bathed in a rainbow. Starting from the horizon, the black rugged land was silhouetted against shades of orange, yellow, blue, & purple.

Toby

Lobster Fest

March 13, 2002-Do No Harm
(photos:Female on left male on right,
Perth,
Melbourne Hotel)

David is going through his evening ritual. Each night that we stay in a new hotel he fiddles with the air conditioner to see if he can re-direct the airflow away from my side of the bed. So far he has failed, but I love that he tries. Tonight we’re back in Perth & staying at the Melbourne Hotel. It’s a boutique hotel with only thirty-two rooms & is housed in a completely restored 1890’s building. I’ve mentioned that wrought ironwork is popular on buildings in Australia. They fashioned the steel from old ships into elaborate balconies & trim. Our room opens onto that very balcony. This particular hotel has chosen a Louisiana theme to match the old exterior.

Our day started in Geraldton at the Brolos Live Lobster Factory Tour. As we approached the building, David reassured the lobsters that we meant them no harm. For those of you who don’t know, our version of keeping somewhat kosher is that we don’t eat pork or shellfish. We did find the tour fascinating. This factory only handled rock lobsters that were to be shipped live. The rejects were put in fresh water to drown & sent to a processing plant to be cooked & prepared to ship out as processed lobster. Only 30% of the lobsters qualify to be shipped live. Of the live ones, 87% go to Asian markets. Because of over-harvesting their waters, Asia has depleted its resources & has to import. Even though a female will produce from 100,000 to a million eggs, most don’t survive. It takes six years for a lobster to mature & the Asians weren’t patient enough. There was one tank with twenty-year-old six-pound lobsters destined for China at $200 a pop. The average lobster runs about $60/lb with the wholesale price at $17.50/lb. Rock lobsters are a $300 million business in Western Australia. This particular plant did $50 million/year. All figures are in U.S dollars.

The lobsters (also called crayfish) arrive fresh off the boat. The dock is right next to the factory conveyor belt. They’re sorted by size, quality, & color. They’re only permitted to have three legs missing (not all on one side) & cannot have cracked shells, eggs, or be pregnant. They then go into holding tanks for three days of R & R to recover from the ordeal of being trapped & transported. Because ocean water off the coast of West Australia is so unpolluted, it’s used in its natural unfiltered state to keep the lobsters fresh. It’s pumped into the tanks directly from the sea & pumped back into the ocean from those tanks. Tanks are monitored for any lobsters that later die (they’re cannibalistic) or become weak or damaged since they change the oxygen level in the water. Fisheries inspectors come at will to supervise the fishermen & factory.

To prepare them for shipping live, the lobsters are given a three-minute bath in the frigid water of the stun tank. This puts them into a state of hibernation. They’re then packed in a Styrofoam cooler, covered with pine shavings & ice, & shipped to their destinations within thirty hours. It takes Federal Express three days to get a parcel from Eastern Australia to Ohio. When delivered, they’re given a warm water bath to wake them up. There’s a 99% survival rate.

Lobster fisherman work from November to June 30. That’s when it’s not breeding season. They have a major investment in their boats. Fully equipped with radar, lobster pots, seawater hydration systems, etc. the boats could sell for up to $3.25 million. They move out to live on islands off the coast & take their families with them. There are grammar schools on the islands, but when their children reach high school age, fishing families have to decide whether or not to trade their licenses in for offshore rather than deep sea ones. At that point they might move into town.

We got an object lesson in telling the difference between males & females. It’s obvious once pointed out. The female has claws under her tail & the male has two penises. Need I say more?
As a non-cooker of lobster, I’d like to give you all a cooking tip. The definitive word is that lobster should NEVER be cooked live. Aside from being extremely cruel, they convulse, lose their legs, & are tougher. The correct way to prepare them is to drown them first. If put in fresh water, they cannot survive. I guess it’s the lesser of two evils, but given that they’re not going to come out of our food chain alive in any case, drowning is preferable.

More Gems

A by-product of the tour was that I picked up an invaluable list of how to treat whatever sting or bite we might get whilst visiting Australia. The list includes jellyfish, stonefish, snakes, & insects. By the way, lobsters carry bacteria that can make you very ill. It’s carried on their shells. We left the factory with our heads reeling with lobster lingo & lore & went for a look at the “hidden gem” of Geraldton, Marine Drive. Much to our surprise, it was across the road from the industrial park. The Indian Ocean was obscured from view by dunes. I think it would have made a better marine stroll than a drive. We happily left that burg behind us & started to go south towards Perth.

We came across the Greenough Historic Hamlet. It’s a preserved village founded in the 1860’s. Some buildings were built by ticket of leave convicts (parolees). The schoolhouse was used until 1951 & churches are still in use. It was interesting to note that, although very old by West Australian standards, it parallels our Civil War. At first I was surprised to see photos of the early settlers, but then remembered Matthew Brady.

We weren’t pleased to note that the timing of our travel meant we’d be back in Dongara, that sleepy town, for lunch. It ‘s amazing how little it takes to make us happy now. Perhaps it’s because we’ve lowered our expectations to meet the reality around us. We were curious about the Priory Lodge, a convent turned hotel & restaurant. It’s a work in process & needs a lot more processing before it will work. We ordered sandwiches & got typical fare. They were served on overdone toast, spread with mayo, salted, & somehow Cajun in Australia means tasteless

Our ride continued past miles & miles of burned out land where blackened landscape on one side of the road contrasted sharply with the lushness of the other. We eventually emerged in Perth to be greeted with such an American phenomenon that it totally startled us. We were stopped at a red light when a young man emerged from out of the blue & started washing our windshield. Although this has never happened to us in the States, here we were in Australia having an authentic American experience. He didn’t look sinister nor did he ask for money, but we did pay him.

We settled into our hotel & started to think about dinner. It seems I just finished telling you about lunch. Fodor’s Guide Book recommended Uncle Billy’s in Chinatown. It was within walking distance, so we stashed the car & hoofed it. Along the way we found a happening area called Northbridge, which is where we’ll probably eat tomorrow. Billy’s food turned out to be mediocre at best. Watermelon was the tastiest part of the meal & we had to eat it Southern style, with salt. Ours was the only table that had no Asians. There was a large round table with about eight diners. The Chinese people there spoke to each other in Chinese & to the Caucasians in Australian accented English. I realized it was a business dinner when all eight of them rose at once, leaned across the table, & exchanged business cards carefully offering & accepting the cards using two hands. Our authentic Chinese meal ended when David asked for the bill. The Chinese server said, “No worries.”

David is watching TV & waiting for me to finish this. We tried to watch last night, but the only reception we got was a BBC program that was so anti-American & pro-Arab we had to turn it off. It tried to validate & offer rationales for the 9/11 attacks. It was shocking to see something of that nature at this time. Being in a Commonwealth country we occasionally do get to see the true colors of Britain. Despite Tony Blair’s support now, they were usually not on the same page as we when it came to the Middle East.

David usually reads the books on services provided by the hotels. He learned that once a week they check the fire alarm system here. That would be tomorrow morning. Hopefully, it will be done after the 10 AM check out time.

Toby

Landscapes

March 12, 2002-Wild & Wacky
(photos:Road to nowhere,
Nambung National Park,
Stromatolite colonies & red algae)

To borrow a ditty, “ The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la.” That should have told us something. It’s autumn here now & the wildflowers, they do not bloom in the fall. We saw two clumps of black-eyed Susans & some acacia trees with leftover yellow flowers. But Nambung National Park did not disappoint. It’s where red & yellow sands of desert meet bone white dunes. It’s where yellow desert meets tourmaline green & delft blue sea. It’s where the sea melds into a sky that’s so sky blue there’s no doubt why the color was so named.

We pulled our fly nets over our hats & trudged into the 95+-degree heat. We’d come to see the approximately four square mile area known as The Pinnacles Desert. The pinnacles are limestone formations that were left when tiny shells & plants were compacted into rock & then eroded away by wind & water into sand. The sand further wore away at the limestone until what we see today is a forest of pillars. Mostly tan with some red & pink accents, they reach up to fifteen feet tall. Thousands of them dot the landscape in what some say resemble enormous termite mounds. Others call it a moonscape, but I prefer to think of it looking as if a giant pre-historic bird picked & pecked on the pillars until the desired pock marked effect was achieved. It could also be described as if the randomly scattered protuberances were strewn around the area by an alien race that hurriedly established a cemetery. It was Stonehenge run amok.

Part of our adventure was the approach to the desert park. Of the eight-mile road, the last two and a half miles were unpaved washboard. The result was that our partially consumed bottles of day old Diet Coke achieved a new level of effervescence as they performed a St. Vitas-like dance & jiggled in their holders as if demon possessed. The National Park welcomed us with a typical Aussie sign with dire warnings of imminent death. Evidently there are poison baited fox traps in the park that are also lethal to pets & humans. There was at least one heedless roo kill by the side of the road. It was hard to tell if it had been poisoned or lost a battle with a vehicle. I wanted a picture of it since it was mostly intact, but David got a bit squeamish.

By now, we were on our way to Lake Thetis & tackling yet another unpaved road. We reckoned we’d broken three out of four of the rules of car rentals in Western Australia. We’d driven in remote areas at night, told them we would use the car South of Perth & were now majorly in the North, & we were on unsealed roads. The fourth cardinal sin was to attach anything to the roof. We were ok on that one so far, but then there was that attractively tempting kangaroo carcass.

Stromatolites brought us to Lake Thetis. We had read about them in Bill Brysons In a Sunburned Country & answered their siren song. Fortunately, we didn’t end up car wrecked in the sand, but these miniscule life forms were worth the diversion. Thought to be extinct, they’re among the first life forms on earth & are the only living stromatolites known in the world. These microbial communities are about 1200 years old. Fossils exist elsewhere that are 2-3,000 million years old & date from the pre-Cambrian era. The live in grayish brown mud like colonies around the lake where there’s also a fascinating growth of a beet colored algae. Unfortunately, some tourists have no concept of the rarity of this recent find & have left the international calling card of cigarette butts.

Our drive took us on to the northern leg of the almost completed coastal highway that will soon link Perth to Darwin. It’s hard to believe that in this day & time they’re still so remote. As we entered the Shire of Carnamah, a sign warned “ No New squatter development would be permitted after 18 March 1992.” Several old squatter shacks were obvious. I was glad to see that in this modern & self-proclaimed sophisticated country there was still room for third world concessions. We entered the Batavia Coast region named for a Dutch East Indies Co. ship that foundered on its shores. I wonder how that company managed to stay in business let alone maintain its Dutch West Indies branch with all the ships it lost in the seas around Australia. Dongara was our stopping point for an ice-cream break where the Aussies, famous for tasteless food, outdid themselves in the manufacture of tasteless ice cream. The main street of the town was lined with huge, ancient, looming Moreton Bay Fig trees. David said that it re-defined the term “sleepy town.” I think that Mexico should send a contingent to study with the masters of the undeclared siesta.

As we headed for Geraldton, we were treated to the sight of sheep marching in a line across a field. There was no dog or human in sight. We wondered what compelled them to trek so purposefully. Our answer came when we spotted a lone straggler with a dog hot on its heels. It occurred to me that these sheep dogs are the animal definition incarnate of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). They doggedly (pardon the pun) pursue their charges & don’t rest until every last one is herded, collected, rounded up, sorted, & relocated or penned. As an admirer of animal intelligence & a control freak, I have a new model to hold up as an ideal.

Toby

Losing It

March 11, 2002-Lock Up
(photos:Gallows,
Prison art)


How can a day that started out so well unravel, dissolve, & then come together in a tidy package as if it was planned that way? Maybe it was. We woke up to a gloriously sunny 75-degree day in Fremantle. We stayed at the Esplanade Hotel situated across from a park of the same name & overlooking the harbor. It was a premier palace of a grand old hotel & nearly encompassed a city block. Its porches embraced its bulk giving it an aura of being lighter than air. We found a funky bakery, had a luscious breakfast with to-die-for million-grain bread, & hit the streets to tour.

We really liked Fremantle. The reason it has such a youthful presence is that Notre Dame University is there. We shopped, took lots of photos of the colorfully painted, dramatic, & gloriously restored Victoriana, & headed for jail. The Fremantle Prison is a brooding granite & sandstone hulk built by, you guessed it, early convicts. The 10,000 transportees from Britain started construction in 1840 & the first prisoners moved in ten years later. Over the years, more serious prisoners from the local population replaced the early convicts. Some of the cells have amazing artwork done by them. We were given the option of seeing the gallows & took it. They explained how the condemned was weighed & measured to insure the rope did its job. They were left hanging for thirty minutes before the doctor certified them. One of the more famous escapees was an Irishman named O’Reilly. He & six others were political prisoners. He ended up in Boston & established the Boston Globe. His family still runs it today. He funded the escape of the six others all of whom went to the U.S. & made their fortunes legally. There was a massive riot in 1988, but the place didn’t shut its doors until 1991.

Nightmare Begins

Our first clue that things were coming apart was when we got to see Perth from the North, South, & East. Blessedly, we missed the view form the West. We were trying to get to the Swan Valley wine region & couldn’t find the right highway. I was working from three maps. The roads were either indicated by name or highway number, but there was no way to match the names or the numbers with any of the signage. We knew we had to head for the airport, but there were no signs in the vicinity of downtown Perth to indicate where that might be. When we finally blundered our way to Swan Valley, the first winery we wanted to go to was closed. The second one had less than satisfying products, & we gave up on the third. We decided to head for the tranquility of the monastery at New Norcia. We would either stay at the mission or in the hotel both of which were run by the Benedictine monks. The monastery, the only one in Australia, boasted a marvelous art collection & a first class museum.

Our route took us down roads lined with termite mounds & ghostlike white gum trees with their shaggy bark strewn on the ground like the feathers of molting birds. Kelly green parrots with yellow ringed necks were vying with gray & pink galahs for the last scraps of the day. The pastoral ambiance was enhanced when a man on a dune buggy herded a flock of sheep across the road. The sheep dog was placidly watching the activity from his perch next to the buggy driver.

Things began to unwind when there was no room to be had in New Norcia. I recall that there was another Jewish family who was turned away at the inn & I’m sure we will not be the last. I’m also sure we will not make the kind of history the other family did. Our innkeeper was less helpful than the one of old. Ours didn’t even offer us a stable. He just callously sent us thirty-five miles down the road to Moora.

Moora is a town waiting to die. It may even be dead, but hasn’t gotten the message yet. The skuzzy motel was fully booked. The hotel had a room, but the bath was down the hall. In desperation, I went to look at the room. Through the partially opened door I glimpsed layers of paint peeling off the walls, a poorly made-up bed with graying sheets, & a stained spread. A mangy man was about to enter the only common bathroom on the floor when I handed the key to the clerk & left. I’d decided I would rather sleep in the car.

My Knight

Distraught is a good word to use here. On the verge of tears is another. I was paralyzed. That’s when my knight in shining armor sprang into action. David called a motel in the town we wanted to be in the next night & booked a room. At this point I was grateful that Ron & Karen left their granola bars with us when they could’t take them into New Zealand. They were a lifesaver.

It was 7 PM, the sun was down, & we had a two-hour drive through the outback. We were about to risk life, limb, & car. We were also about to go contrary to the extremely strong advice given by the car rental company. We were entering kangaroo country at night. David was so tense that his hands cramped as he gripped the steering wheel. His eyes dried out because he was afraid to take them off the road long enough to blink. We imagined that large flying bugs were leaping roos as they flashed in our peripheral vision & hit our windshield with a repulsive pit-a-pat. Shadows, fallen limbs, & shrubs became sinister road hazards in the dark. The two-three trailer long road train trucks seemed to dominate the narrow roadway as they thundered past confidently knowing that any kangaroos they met would be no match.

And then we saw them. There were two of them. They always seem to come in pairs. They must have been the largest roos we’d seen anywhere. David thought they were twenty feet tall, but I figure they were only a bit over five feet. They were standing in the middle of the road oblivious to the headlights bearing down on them. They were facing each other as if trying to decide where to go for dinner or perhaps they were old friends just catching up on gossip. It’s a really good thing that kangaroos have white bellies & are easily visible in the dark. It was a far better thing that David had his high beams on & has good reflexes. He didn’t jam on the brakes, but he did vigorously apply them. The roos took the hint without a beep of our horn. They ambled off the road at their clumsy slow gait looking like a pair of wounded warriors using their tails as crutches.

An hour & a half later we emerged into civilization. There was a filling station ahead. During the entire drive we were mindful that even as our gas gauge was falling, the one station that we passed was closed. We re-fueled & continued onto the dark desolate night highway. There was light at the end of our nightmare tunnel & a pot of gold at the end of our bleak rainbow. There were no windmills to welcome us & no half-crazed knight to do our bidding, but we’d arrived in Cervantes. The sign of our motel was a literal beacon as was the sound of glasses clinking at the patio bar. David said he was going to fall apart when we got into the room. He didn’t live up to that promise. He went to the closed restaurant of the motel to negotiate ice-cream bars, a cookie, & nuts. Bon apetite.

Although we really wanted to wing it for this trip, we booked a room for tomorrow night. It seems that the tourists re out in force. It’s not school holiday time, but it is wildflower season. The hills are supposedly alive with their riotous colors & hordes of rambling tourists.

Toby

On The Move Again

March 9, 2002-Departure
(photos:Our motto,
Quokka & me)

We’ll be on our way to Perth this evening. Perth is in the state of Western Australia. W.A., as it’s called, takes up 1/3 of all the area of the Australian continent. We leave at 8 PM & arrive in Perth at about 10:30PM. There’s a time difference, but I’m not sure what it is. I’ve heard that the flight takes anywhere from 4-7 hours.

This is a tidbit from the paper this morning. Australia has the highest youth suicide rate in the world. There’s a high rate among aborigine youth, but that doesn’t account for the extraordinarily high rates in the cities among the youth of European extraction. No reasons were given. So much for the happy go lucky Aussie image. Maybe a combination of the macho culture & the cultural endorsement of bouts of heavy drinking are clues. Perhaps the less blond & non-blue-eyed feel inferior. What if a young surf-worshipping Aussie just doesn’t look the knockout in a bikini?

March 10, 2002-Arrival

The flight from Brisbane to Perth is 5 ½ hours. It’s the same as flying from New York to Los Angeles. There was a scene at the departure gate that was reminiscent of when we left home. A young woman was being seen off by what I assume was an extended family including several young children. They hugged, kissed, & clung to each other until the last minute. They reluctantly tore away from their embraces as the sobbing woman made her way to the plane. David & I turned to each other & cried along with them. I’ll never forget that wrenching feeling of helplessness & acquiescence of the inevitable. Although we’ve had a once in a lifetime experience, it will remain just that. We will not be gone for nine months again.

Although the flight was uneventful, as it should have been, David did notice a serious breach in security that he’ll report to Qantas as soon as he has a chance to email them. During the flight, one of the flight attendants opened the cockpit door, stood there for some time, & chatted with the crew. Scary.

We saw a promotional video about the making of the movie The Rabbit Proof Fence. I don’t know if it’s big in the U.S., but it’s huge here. It’s about the time in Australia’s history when white Australians forcibly took aboriginal children away from their parents in a misguided attempt to integrate them into white society. The children are called the stolen generation. This is a story about how three young girls escaped their white homes & made their way back to their clans. They did this by following a fence that stretched across the desert to keep the plague of European introduced rabbits away from the outback stations (ranches). The video followed the director while he auditioned, selected, & worked with three amateur aboriginal actors. The scene where they’re literally torn from the arms of their mother I found to be emotionally wrenching. When they showed the reaction of the cast, crew, & director after the shoot, I also dissolved into tears. The young stars were inconsolable. This part of their history became so real for them that they had to be held, rocked, & comforted until they could recover their composure & go on.

We arrived in Perth on time & our car was ready & waiting for us. The only caution we got from the rental agent was that the insurance didn’t cover the car if we drove it between towns at night due to the high number of car/kangaroo encounters of which there were no victors. Locals don’t drive in remote areas at night. That reminds me that in our 5-½ hours of flying across the 3,000 miles of Australia we saw no lights on the ground. That’s 3,000 miles of absolute darkness. It was as if we were flying over the sea, but this one was of rock & sand.

We stayed at Miss Maudes Swedish Hotel. We booked it online at www.wotif.com.au. It’s a boutique hotel built in 1911. It has a European atmosphere & a great buffet breakfast. We didn’t tour Perth today, but headed for Fremantle & Rottnest Island. Fremantle is now a trendy tourist destination & a suburb 12 miles south of Perth. The British settled it in 1829 when it was just a salt marsh. They quickly moved to Perth, but Fremantle remained the main port of Western Australia & was a U.S. submarine base in WWII. It’s a town full of the vitality of the many young people who crowd the streets set against the background of its well-preserved Victorian buildings.

We had our first glimpse of the Indian Ocean from the ferry to Rottnest Island. It’s actually the remnant coastline & thousands of years ago totally submerged. The island was first found in the early 1600’s when ships from the Dutch East India Company foundered on its reefs. It has come a long way from being the bane of the shipping fleets to the eco-reserve it is today. Tourism is limited, development has ended, & no commercial fishing is permitted within 800 meters of the shore. With hugely fierce winds from the southeast, it is rated as the 3rd windiest place on earth after Chicago & Wellington, New Zealand. It’s a haven for scuba & snorkeling & boasts a marked snorkeling trail with plaques imbedded in the sand to narrate the underwater sights. There’s nothing between its westernmost shore & Mauritius off the coast of S. Africa.

Along with referring to Fremantle as Freo & Rottnest as Rotto, our guide on the two-hour bus tour told us there were no “bities” in the water. He meant jellyfish, not sharks. He said there has never been a death caused by a shark, but that several people a year die in bicycle accidents. Cars are severely limited on the island, but folks seem to find ways to kill themselves in falls anyway.

There’s an old WWII gun emplacement, a lighthouse, & supremely private bays & coves, but those features pale in comparison to the main draw of the place. It’s the home of the quokka. It’s the only place on earth where this cat sized rat-tailed wallaby like marsupial is found. They were marooned on the island when it was separated from the mainland & all of its predators were left behind. Since no pets are allowed on Rottnest, quokkas enjoy complete security. One of their favorite foods is the Moreton Bay fig. They eat them after they’ve fallen to the ground & ferment. Then these little brown fuzzy creatures lie on their backs & make a god-awful sound. They’re the namesakes of the island. Rottnest means rat nest in Dutch. They’re fearless. I had one drinking water out of my hand.

No Australian story would be complete without the prison angle. In this case, Rottnest was used to house aborigine prisoners. I asked the guide if they were criminals. He said that most were in for minor offenses, but they were used as cheap labor. The party line was that they were incarcerated “for their own good” & to bring them into the white culture. They were free to roam the island at will, so why did so many try to escape?

Toby

Soul Searching

March 8, 2002-Clarification

I’ve been a bit introspective the last few days & would like to share my thoughts privately with the sixty-nine people who get this email & with all of their friends & family to whom it is forwarded.

I think I’ve clarified & synthesized some of my thoughts & feelings about our stay. There are two aspects of our time in Australia that bear examination. For the first, I need to share with you an experience I had when I was nine-years old. Pay attention all you shrinks. My father had sold his business in New York & we moved to Miami Beach, Florida. I went from the only neighborhood I’d ever known, lifelong friends, & a close extended family to an alien place. I quickly learned that it was pointless to make friends at school since the children were primarily there for the “season” & the friendships would not be lasting. We eventually moved to Orlando & a more stable environment. I’ve had a hard time moving ever since.

I have envied people who have stayed in a community & who have deep roots & family ties to that community. It amazes me that some of my friends are still friends with people they knew in kindergarten. And so, I approached this experience a bit like my nine-year old self. I saw it as a wrenching away from people & places that were familiar & loved. When we arrived, we really did toy with the idea of staying on. Even though it was appealing, it did make me a bit anxious. I had a sense of displacement here. Actually, it was more a feeling that I’d been misplaced. I was “other.” I didn’t try too hard to learn how to recognize the money since VISA seemed to work just fine. Now I can recognize that the pasta colored scraps that emerge from the ATM are $A 50 notes. I was hesitant to speak to sales clerks in stores or, at least, self-conscious because there were always misunderstandings due to language differences. This became even more discomfiting after 9/11 when my American accent seemed to stand out like a beacon. Even today, I just noticed that a “goods lift” was a service elevator. When I took the $A 890 check from the medical insurance company (yes, we’ve already been reimbursed) to the bank, I told the teller I wanted to deposit $A 790, & take $A 100, in cash. She looked at the check & said that it was non-negotiable. I couldn’t understand what the problem was. The insurance company account was with the same bank & the check was made out to me. To me “non-negotiable” is just that. I’s funny money. It’s not cashable. It’s not legal tender. The teller went on as if nothing was really a problem as she told me I could deposit the check in its entirety & then withdraw $A 100, from my account since we had more that enough to cover the $A 100 without the $A 890. So, I learned that in Australian banking lingo non-negotiable means “depositable” but not “cashable.”

Now I would like to address the second aspect of this dilemma. Last night David said he was so ready to leave. When we discussed it further, he said that, if asked, he would say he liked Australia, but not the people. That’s absolutely counter to every stereotype about this country we’d absorbed. We had pictured Aussies as open, friendly, warm, & fun loving. Except for the Bruces, the people at temple were far from that. Then we realized that most people at temple weren’t Australians, they were Brits. The Bruces however, are native Aussies. For the most part, the people in the congregation are hospitable, welcoming, & polite, but more distant & taciturn. I feel more at ease with the dry cleaner or my manicurist than I do with them. We feel a warmth radiating from the lady at the kebab stand that we don’t get from the people at temple. I knew she was Kurdish, but I never knew what religion she was. I asked if we could take her picture & she declined. I asked her if it was a religious issue. She said it was more cultural & that she’s a Zoroastrian. What it boils down to is that we really do like Australia & Australians. It’s the Brits that aren’t any fun.

We ran into a very considerate agent at Cathay Pacific when we had the dates on our tickets to India changed. She rang us the next day & left a message that due to the nature of our tickets, we weren’t eligible for frequent flyer miles on American Airlines. She rang back the day after & left another message asking us if we wanted kosher meals on the flight. I couldn’t figure out how she knew we were Jewish. People here aren’t that aware of ethnic clues to Judaism, like last names. We even had a passport control worker who didn’t know what a rabbi was. David finally remembered that on our out-going message at the apartment it says,” You have reached Rabbi David & Toby Horowitz.” I guess this worker knew what a rabbi was. I thought that it was very considerate of her to make the inquiry.

Finding kosher for Passover food here is another story. Passover is the holiday when we don’t eat leavened foods ( e.g. bread) to remember when the Children of Israel led by Moses, escaped Egyptian slavery & wandered in the desert for forty years. We ordered matzo through the Temple, but when the Bruces invited us for the first Seder (ritual meal to commemorate the escape to freedom & desert experience), I offered to make dessert. Not having any of my recipes here, I thought I would rely on a commercial boxed brownie mix. There are no, zero, zip displays of Passover foods at any of the grocery stores. They don’t even have the stuff hidden on the shelves of “gourmet” foods where they keep the taco sauce. We had to go to a gourmet store that carries a few boxes of matzo for Pesach ( Passover) & have them order the mix for us. They will let us know if they can get it.

When Karen & Ron were here they bought a box of Tim Tam biscuits (cookies) for an English friend of theirs. He raved about them & that’s all he wanted from Australia. A Tim Tam is two chocolate cookies covered with a layer of chocolate. I’m not overly fond of them, but perhaps that’s because I didn’t know the true secret of the Tim Tam. I learned that it’s best eaten by first ritualistically nibbling off each end. That leaves the majority of the cookie, which is to be then used to suck up coffee as through a straw. It’s akin to the Oreo cookie separate & lick principle.

Some of you have accused me of being “nose obsessed.” How can you say that when it has always been my most prominent, if not my most flattering, feature? I’m happy to report some noticeable improvement. The stitches came out on Monday & I’ve been out on the streets with it in its uncovered (not in the biblical sense) natural state, & no children have pointed or gawked. I do think that because most people are shorter than I am, many have not even seen the area concerned. I should have had David take a photo of me with the bandage on it. I’ve always remarked that we see more people in overseas venues who walk around with sloppy gauze wound coverings or crutches than we see at home. I had joined their ranks. My favorite memory along these lines is from the isle of Rhodes. A man was walking down the street pushing an IV stand with the bottle swinging & jiggling & the IV line firmly planted in his arm.

Toby