Venturing to the Unknown

Holiday Wrap Up

dbsig33 — Sun, 9 Nov 2008 13:24:00 GMT

After an exhausting two weeks of University work, I was more than ready for a holiday. My flight to the Whit Sundays was scheduled for 6am on Weds morning, so, rather than getting a taxi, my plan was to have my friend Nick drop me off at the airport the night before. “After all”, I thought to myself, “couldn’t I just sleep inside the airport and save money”? I quickly found that the answer to this question was no. The airport closed at ten pm and didn’t open back up until four in the morning. Unfortunately, I didn’t find this out quickly enough. By the time I realized my predicament, Nick was well on his way back to Newcastle University and I was left alone with a dead cell phone. Thus, my two week vacation to the Whit Sundays and Fraser Island began in a much different fashion than most vacations…sleeping alone on a bench outside of Newcastle Airport

To be honest, sleeping on a bench for one night really wasn’t all that bad. It’s not something I’d want to do again, but it was a good adventure to kick off my vacation. It makes for a decent story I guess. Unlike most people who sleep on benches however, I had the comfort of a warm sleeping bag and the knowledge of knowing that I was relatively safe sleeping at a rural airport rather than in the middle of a big city.

I arrived at Airlie beach and had two days to kill before my three day three night sailing trip around the Great Barrier Reef. I was initially excited for these two days because I saw them as an opportunity to soak up some quality “David Time.” Something you need to know about me is that I’m the type of person who loves human interaction, but sometimes I just need some time by myself to recharge. No matter who you are though, I think it’s important to take some time to just relax and reflect on life. Airlie beach however, was not the place of solitude that I anticipated.

Airlie beach, although beautiful in its own right, is the Australian capital of Spring break partying. It wasn’t until I ate a steak dinner alone at a restaurant the first night that I began to feel truly lonely and out of place. Fortunately, I found two important companions to keep me company the second day; God and the book Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. I’m rather proud to say that I had God as a companion. I definitely found myself praying quite a bit more than I usually do. It was a nice comfort to have someone to talk to when I was feeling lonely. Someone I knew who could truly hear me. However, I’m not so proud to admit that the book Twilight was my other companion. Don’t get me wrong, Twilight is a good book…No, It’s a great book!....If you’re a sixteen year old girl. After about one hundred pages into the book, I realized that Twilight is a rather in depth love story between a vampire and a human. You want to know the sad thing? I’m hooked! So much so, that I’m currently waiting for my friend Angela to give me book two in the series. So, if you’re a sixteen year old girl or a man who is confident in his masculinity, then check out Twilight!

Although the first couple of days of my vacation started out slow, the remaining eight days were a blast! The sailing trip was incredible. The food on the boat was delicious, the sights were breathtaking, and the snorkeling/scuba diving were like nothing I have ever done before. I went into the trip not knowing anybody, and can honestly say that I came out of it with several new friends.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the Fraser Island trip was even more fun than the sailing trip. Fraser Island is a short ferry ride from Hervey Bay and is the world’s largest sand island. Being that the island is so well protected by the government, there are very few paved roads. As such, most driving occurs on the beach or through sand pathways in the forest, making four wheel drive a necessity. I was especially excited for the trip because I went into with Abe, a friend of mine from Newcastle University. I was also excited for the opportunity to do some camping on the island.

Besides myself and Abe in the van, there were three English girls, a French couple, a guy from Canada, and a girl from South Africa. If the cramped quarters of a boat force people to build relationships, imagine how much more so a van crammed with people and camping equipment does. By the end of our island safari, it felt as if the nine of us had become a family.

I’d have to say that the most meaningful part of my holiday experience was the relationships that were built. There is no doubt in my mind that the scenery was incredible at both Fraser Island and the Whit Sundays (if you don’t believe me, then check out my pictures!), but this isn’t what made my holiday so exciting. Thinking back to the first couple of days when I was alone reinforces this point. I found that it was the people, not the place, that made my holiday fun and meaningful.

Gallery: Whitsudays/Fraser Island

dbsig33 — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 14:33:00 GMT

The Joys of Freedom

dbsig33 — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 18:44:00 GMT

For the past week and a half I have not been a free man, but rather a prisoner. Unlike most prison sentences however, my term was not based on a set duration of time but rather on the completion of a duty. It was not a forced imprisonment, and yet, no matter how hard I tried to break free, I quickly found that my conscience would not let me. What then were the terms of my release? The completion of two large essays and a rather aggravating accounting assignment.

And thus, I have spent the past week and a half of my life locked within the confines of my dark room, toiling away for hours without end. It became unbearable to withstand the sun’s taunting rays of light that shined through my window, so I kept the curtains shut. I would only emerge from my dungeon on rare occasions to eat or use the restroom, and the few human interactions I had seemed completely alien to me. It was as if I had forgotten how to socially conduct myself from a lack of human contact. Essentially, I was a shadow of a man. And then, Friday September 26^th at 4:00 o’clock p.m., I earned my freedom!

Sorry for the exaggeration, but it’s really hard to do work in Australia…I always feel like I should be at the beach! Regardless, I am done with my work, and am now free to update my journal. I can’t hope to write down everything that has gone on the past few weeks (before my imprisonment), so instead I will give a brief update:

The weekend of August 22^nd, my friend Justin took a group of us to his family’s farm out in Tamworth. It was a great weekend. We went hiking, horseback riding, car racing, 4-wheeling, sheep herding and had a fajita eating contest at a Mexican restaurant in town. The farm food was probably the best part! His parents cooked a feast for us every meal.

The weekend of September 5^th, I went on a surf trip with mojo-surf. I was a little nervous going into the weekend for 2 reasons. (1)I didn’t know anybody going on the trip(but I quickly found out that I knew 5-6 people once the trip started), and (2) I had only surfed once in my life prior to the surf trip. There was about 40 of us in all. The bus picked us up from Newcastle and drove us four hours north to a beach house. The weekend was a blast! It was fun meeting new people and surfing! The beach we surfed on was beautiful and we pretty much had it to ourselves. Also, I learned that surfing is like riding a bike

Finally, the weekend of September 12^th, my friend Dan took me home with him to Orange. Orange was a lot like Tamworth in that it was a country town with a lot of farms. All of Dan’s family was home for the weekend (which I was told is a rare occasion), so it was fun hanging out with everyone. Like Tamworth, I had the privilege of enjoying some great home cooked meals. The highlights of the weekend were motor-biking, 4-wheeling, Kangaroo hunting, and having a massive cookout.

And now, Monday September 29^th, I am about to leave for two weeks on holiday as a free man. My friend Nick is taking me to the airport at 12pm (my flight leaves at 6am the following morning), where my adventure will begin. The plan is to sail around the Whit Sunday Islands for a few days, scuba dive the great barrier reef, and head down to Fraiser Island where I will meet up with my friend Abraham for some more adventures. I have to go pack now, but I’ll be updating in a couple weeks!

Gallery: Tamworth

dbsig33 — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 11:31:00 GMT

The Scariest 20 Minutes of My Life

dbsig33 — Wed, 3 Sep 2008 23:36:00 GMT

As Chris, David, and I sat around the fire our second night at the Blue Mountains, we couldn’t help but feel a little sad that our journey was coming to an end. We had just spent an amazing weekend of adventure and fellowship in the beauty of God’s creation. What more could a man ask for? It was getting late though, and we all knew that we needed a good night’s rest for the ascent out of the valley the following morning. We each headed off to our respective sleeping spots; David stayed by the warm fire, Chris went to his three man tent which was about 6 meters from the fire, and I went to my one man tent which was off on its own about 15 meters from the fire (I was so far away from everyone else because the sound of human snoring is my kryptonite). I crawled into my warm mummy bag and quickly fell asleep. What followed was perhaps the most frightening 20 minutes of my life.

I woke up. It was 3:15 a.m. There was no breeze, no sound, no nothing. The night was dead…Then I heard it. It was approaching my tent slowly…large, shuffling footsteps. “An animal?” I thought to myself. It kept approaching. “No, it can’t be. I hear two legs, not four. What is it? Maybe another backpacker coming to steal my stuff while I sleep?” I sat up slightly in my tent and became instantly alert. I realized that the footsteps were coming from the woods and were on a direct course for my tent. “WHAT IS IT!?!?” I thought. Fear laid its icy grip upon me and my mind began to search desperately for answers. “What do I do…WHAT DO I DO?”… I had an idea. “I’ll yell something!”

Now, there were two things I hoped to accomplish by yelling something: (1) scare off my attacker & (2) speak courage into my faltering heart by saying something really brave. And so it was decided. I would yell something. But what to yell? I kid you not, my first thought was that maybe I could yell something like “Hey, I know you’re out there. Let’s make this a fair fight.” As if the serial killer standing outside my tent might think to himself “Ahhh heck…you know what, the kid’s right. I should just let him out of his tent and give him a fighting chance!” My second thought wasn’t much better though. I thought about quoting the scene from Lord of The Rings when Gandalf faces the Balrog, by yelling “The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!” I think that the only thing this would have accomplished would have been to give the thing outside my tent a good chuckle before attacking me. Now, before you judge me, please understand that the mind can think of some pretty crazy things when it’s gripped by fear...Anyways... I continued to sit up in my tent, listening as the footsteps got closer. “I have to do something now.” I thought. Time to yell! Out of all the possible things I could of yelled, all I managed was a very meek “hey.” This did not have the desired effect of giving me courage, but the footsteps stopped...2 meters behind my ten. Dead silence followed…

Fear turned into sheer panic as I began to wait. “What have I done?” I thought. “I’ve lost the element of surprise now. It knows I’m awake.” Seven minutes went by and I didn’t move a muscle. All I did was lay there listening. Towards the end of the seven minutes, my heart began to slow down and I started to regain control over my mind again. “Perhaps I imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was an animal,” I thought… Then I heard it again. The same shuffling footsteps, although this time a little farther away. Instantly, the fear and panic returned, and the realization hit me. “Its playing a game with me,” I thought, “I have to do something. I can’t let myself get trapped in here.” I made up my mind. I had to make it out of the tent and get David and Chris.

I put on my headlamp and began to lace up my boots. Normally this job takes me somewhere between 30-60 seconds. This night was different though. My right boot went on in two minutes, however, I heard noises before putting on my second boot. This caused my hand to start shaking, and my left boot took almost three and a half minutes to put on. After putting on my boots, I grasped my knife in my right hand and knelt down at the entrance of the tent. As I knelt there, I became acutely aware of the dull, short, $5 knife in my right hand that I had bought a few days earlier. “Why didn’t I buy a bigger knife?” I thought. I continued to kneel, replaying the plan over again in my head...I would leap out my tent and run for the fire. I continued to kneel in silence. My heart was still racing, but my mind started to clear a little bit…It was game time!

I quickly unzipped the tent fly and lunged out of the tent. The first thing I noticed was that the fire was out and there was no sign of David. I kept running and eventually made it to Chris’s tent. “WAKE UP?” I yelled. To my relief, I was greeted by two separate voices. One made an “uuuuhhhhhh” noise, and the other said “What? Did someone catch on fire?” “No, no one caught on fire.” I replied. “But I swear there’s something out there guys. Get up!” David and Chris both got their flashlights and came outside. I quickly told them my story. As I told the story, the expression on David’s face slowly turned from annoyance to fear. “I had the same thing happen to me at about two in the morning.” He said. “That’s why I came in from the fire to sleep in Chris’s tent…"

And so, at 3:35 in the morning, David, Chris, and I embarked on a thorough search of the camp. What did we find? Absolutely nothing. After all of that, there was nothing there. No person, no animal, no footprints. Nothing! We decided to go back to bed, but this time we all piled into Chris’s tent. It was a little crowded, but it felt safe. The guys both went to sleep, but I had it in my mind that I would keep watch through the night. After playing hero for 10 minutes, I drifted off into sleep.

We woke up the next morning filled with joy at the sight of day light. We quickly packed up our tents and ascended the golden stairs, up the same way we had gone down. A fairly uneventful end to our weekend… Looking back on that night, I realize that the “thing” outside my tent was probably some sort of animal looking for food. Upon that realization, I’m a little embarrassed by how frightened I allowed myself to get. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t put more trust in God. At the very least though, that night was a memorable end to an incredible weekend. A weekend spent with two amazing men in the beauty and glory of God’s creation… A weekend I will never forget.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation

Whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life

Of whom shall I be afraid?

When evil men advance against me

To devour my flesh,

When my enemies and my foes attack me,

They will stumble and fall.

Though an army besiege me,

My heart will not fear;

Though war break out against me,

Even then will I be confident.”

-Psalm 27:1-3

Blue Mountains

dbsig33 — Wed, 3 Sep 2008 21:05:00 GMT

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where there voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.”-Psalm 19:1-4

I have the impossible task ahead of me of describing a beauty that can not be captured by mere words, for it is a beauty that must be experienced by all five of the senses; and even after such an experience, one is left feeling as if they have only seen a very small piece of a much greater picture. With this in mind, I will attempt to describe my journey to the Blue Mountains.

It was 4:45 A.M. Friday August 15^th…Already long past the time we should have left for the train station. I hate to admit it, but we were running late due to a severe miscalculation of time on my behalf. Fortunately, my traveling companions (David and Chris), were both very forgiving. Time however, was not as forgiving…So we had to get moving! The train was scheduled to leave for the Blue Mountains at 4:56 a.m. We were about a 16 minute walk from the station, meaning about an 8 minute run with all of our bags (give or take a minute). We took off running into the dead of night, and made it to the station with 30 seconds to spare. We felt extremely tired and slightly sick, but we made it! Our journey to the Blue Mountains had begun!

When you go to the Blue Mountains, more than likely you will get off the train in a town called Katoomba. In Katoomba, there are multiple tourist attractions, information booths, and lookout points. The most famous lookout point boasts a view of the entire valley as well as a view of the rock formation called “The Three Sisters”. It was here that I got my first view of the Blue Mountains in all of its glory… It was also here that we stood, unable to speak, for ten minutes.

After regaining our composure, Chris, David, and I decided to head into the information office to gather some information about campsites and hiking trails. We were greeted with some good and bad news. The three of us were looking for a trail where we could do some “adventure camping.” You know, the type of camping where it’s just you out in the middle of the wilderness with no trace of civilization for miles around? The good news was that they had exactly the trail we were looking for. It was a two day trail that lead you through the valley, up a mountain, and back up out of the valley. The problem was that you needed to be an experienced “bushwalker” because the trail was extremely hard to follow and was easy to get lost on. By experienced they meant that you needed to be able to use a compass and read a topographic map…None of us could do this. So…(Mom don’t get mad), we decided to wing it.

At about 1:30 p.m. on Friday afternoon, we descended down the golden stairs into the valley. With the prospect of the adventure to come, my veins were pumping adrenaline into my system and I was essentially on overdrive. The first landmark we were looking for was “Ruined Castle,” a rock at the top of a hill that looks like a, well…like a ruined castle. It was at the bottom of the Ruined Castle that we set up camp for the 1^st night. After setting up our tents, building a fire, and eating, we spent the remainder of the night plotting our course for the next day. We decided on 3 things: (1) We needed to find water. Our water supply was ok for the time being, but by Saturday afternoon we would be pretty desperate for water. (2) We would use our common sense. If the trail got to tricky, then we would turn back and retrace our steps. And (3) We would make it up Mount Solitude no matter what!

We woke up Saturday morning, cooked breakfast, and hit the trail in search of water. After about a half hour of hiking, we came to a spot where we thought we would find some. The map indicated that there would be a creek bed, and it was right. There was only one problem… no water in the creek bed. According to the map, the next source of water was at the top of Mount Solitude. We had no choice but to continue. At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, we finally found the creek bed at the top of the mountain…Unfortunately, there was no water. Rather than giving up though, we followed the creek bed. After tracing the creek bed for about 10 minutes, we came to the edge of a 1,000 ft (this is a guess) cliff. It was here, at the edge of the cliff, that we finally found water! At this point I think we all felt a mixture of excitement and relief. After filtering the water, we retraced our steps down the mountain and made camp.

The atmosphere around the fire that night was one of joy and celebration. We had accomplished our mission! I think that each one of us felt as if we were Lewis and Clark returning from a successful expedition to the Pacific Ocean. We spent hours around that fire…Chris, David, and I…talking about life…looking up at the stars...reflecting on God’s beauty. I wouldn’t give up the memory of that night for anything.

Gallery: More Blue Mountains

dbsig33 — Wed, 3 Sep 2008 20:48:00 GMT

City 2 Surf

dbsig33 — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 14:29:00 GMT

Being that the City 2 Surf occurred so long ago, I would like this post to serve as a long overdue thank you to everyone that supported team underdog and Kenya Aid. The City 2 Surf is a 14 Kilometer (approx. 9 miles) run through the heart of Sydney. It started in Hyde Park and ended at Bondi Beach, Sydney’s most famous beach. I could be wrong, but I heard rumors that the city 2 surf is the world’s largest run, boasting over 70,000 participants.

The idea to run in this race was first conceived during a supper (desert) conversation after bible study one night. Some of the guys at the study asked me what I did for fun. When I told them that I enjoyed running, they told me about Australia’s biggest race.

After hearing about the race, I began to search for people who would be interested in training for and running the race with me. This is how I met Justin. Justin is an Australian from Tamworth, the country music capital of Australia. When he heard about the race, he was just as excited as I was. We hit it off right away and began to form a team.

In the begging there were six of us interested in running the City 2 Surf, and with just 16 days to train, we had to work pretty hard. Of the six of us who started training, one by one people began to drop out until it was just me, Justin, and Corey. Needless to say, this was incredibly disheartening. It got to the point where I wanted to drop out myself. There were two things though that kept me going. The first thing was Justin’s constant enthusiasm. The second thing was finding out about Kenya Aid.

If you form a team on the City 2 Surf website, you have the option to pick a charity to raise money for. Corey, Justin, and I were discussing a possible charity to donate to when we found Kenya Aid. Quoting from the website, “Kenya Aid is a not-for-profit charity dedicated to fighting the causes of poverty in Kenya. We provide quality rural health services and implement community based health strategies. We aim to empower local communities towards development, as we believe that basic health care is a fundamental human right.” After reading about it, we set up the website and invited friends and family to support our run and sponsor Kenya Aid. From that day forward the City 2 Surf became more than a race to us. It was a cause.

After just 2 weeks of preparation, the day of the race came. As we walked into Hyde Park, I came to realize that 70,000 people are A LOT of people. More people then I have ever seen in my life. Now, a little background information about me…I am a bit of a competitive person. Running is a passion of mine that I hold very dear. When I race, I go all out. So, when I found out that Justin and I had to start 40,000 people back from the starting line, I was a little frustrated. But, “no worries” I thought to myself. “After all, we have timing chips that start as soon as we cross the starting line. I can still run as fast as I want.”

Imagine being a jackrabbit caught in a pack of tortoises inching their way to the sea. That is the best way I can describe the first 5 kilometers of the race. No matter how much I dodged and weaved, I constantly had to slow down to avoid running into someone. Soon frustration grew into downright anger and I started to have some pretty ugly thoughts. Some people stopped to tie their shoes, other people stopped to walk a bit, and others just weren’t going the pace that I wanted them to go. “How dare they impede on MY race,” I thought.

It was at this point that I had a very humbling moment. Another voice started speaking in my head. “Your race David? I thought you were running for fun? I thought you were running for Kenya Aid? And what about every other person out here running today? They have worked just as hard training and raising money as you…. David, this isn’t about you”

“This isn’t about you…” Ouch. A painfully piercing statement, but overwhelmingly true. My anger soon turned to guilt as I began to realize that I had been a bit of a jerk the first 5 kilometers of the race. After that realization, I had a resolve to attempt to run with a different attitude. I ended the race not exactly getting the time that I wanted...But I finished it in a much better mood than I began it in.

Upon reflection of the City 2 Surf, my favorite part of it was not the actual race itself. It was the friendship that I built with Justin through training with him and watching as our family and friends raised over $700 of support for Kenya Aid in just a week and a half! So, I want to say thank you to everyone who helped out. $700!!! That’s huge. And it’s money that is spent directly on fighting poverty in Kenya. As a whole, the City 2 Surf race rose over $1 million dollars! Thanks again everybody and Goodonya!

-David

Word Games

dbsig33 — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 22:15:00 GMT

My Australian friends all seem to think that the way I talk is quite comical. I’ve never really thought much about it…I always thought I talked normal. One of their favorite games to play with me is to put on a West Virginian accent (I’m from Ohio) and have a crack at me. In retaliation, I assume my best high pitched British accent (I don’t quite have the Australian accent down yet), and have a go at them. It’s good fun for all involved.

One of the biggest differences is in the way we say certain words or phrases. For instance, rather than thank you they say TA or cheers. Instead of your welcome, they say no worries. In place of lots, it’s heaps. Pretty basic stuff…I’m cool with it. It gets trickier though. In a normal, American greeting, we would say “how are you doing?” For them it’s “how are you going?” Let me tell you, this really threw me off the first few days. Instead of answering with a “good, thank you,” I always found myself wanting to answer with a destination.

Okay, here’s another good one. For an American, if we wanted to discern whether or not someone enjoyed an event, we would ask “how do you like it?” For an Australian though, it’s “how do you find it.” This one is a killer. Initially I would try to answer with a “well, someone told me about it,” or “I found it over the internet,” or even just a puzzled "what are you talking about?" That has brought about quite a few laughs.

Then there is the realm of the downright outrageous. For instance, the phrase “good on you” (pronounced goodunya). This is the American equivalent of “well done.” Another one that my Tasmanian friend Dan says is “tea” in place of “dinner.” Then there’s the word aluminum, which they pronounce (Al you men e um). Strange, eh? And then, the word that by far causes the most controversy…A word that’s very utterance causes me to cringe inside… “Lolly.” This word essentially means candy. Now, other than in jest, I refuse to say this word…Mainly because I can only imagine a five year old saying it. The Australians have a lot of things right…But not the word Lolly. I will argue this until the day I die.

In consideration of the above, I have realized a rather disturbing fact. Gradually, the very same words and phrases that I have been so quick to make fun of have been creeping their way into my vocabulary. I am rendered powerless in resisting the catchyness of words like "goodunya" and "cheers." Perhaps the joke is on me?

Gallery: Blue Mountains

dbsig33 — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 22:03:00 GMT

Gallery: Sydney

dbsig33 — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 21:23:00 GMT

Sydney

dbsig33 — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 21:20:00 GMT

Only a week had gone by and I had to get out of Newcastle and see something. I was in a different country, but it didn’t really feel like it. I needed to go somewhere that would let me know that I was no longer in the United States. So, my 2^nd weekend in Australia, I jumped on a train and three hours later I was in Sydney.

My trip to Sydney was awhile back, so I’m going to have to let the pictures do most of the talking. There are a few things that I distinctly remember though. The first thing that stuck out to me was the opera house. I fell in love the moment I saw it. I think I probably took 20 pictures of it (although I will spare you by only posting a few). I ended up going inside to see if there were any shows going on.

While I was waiting in the ticket line, a woman came up to me and asked if I was interested in buying an opera ticket. She told me that her friend had canceled last minute on her and that she wanted to get rid of the extra ticket so she would give me a good price. The ticket was to Othello, a Shakespearean play that had been adapted into an opera. After checking to make sure the ticket was legit, I paid for it and followed her into the theatre.

I’ve never seen an opera before…but I knew that what I watching was good…no, it was beautiful. This was a full scale production. There was a huge orchestra, 40-50 people on stage, and everything was sung in Latin (fortunately there was English subtitles for those of us who were not sophisticated enough to understand Latin). The music…oh man…it gave me goosebumps. The songs were penetrating and deep. They took me on an emotional rollercoaster ride.

Although the music was emotionally stimulating, I took the most out of the storyline. In the story, Othello is a General of the Venetian army and is betrayed out of anger by his closest adviser, Lago. Lago orchestrates Othello’s downfall by slowly turning him against those who are closest to him, including his wife Desdemona. Lago is able to convince Othello that Desdemona has been unfaithful, causing Othello to accuse Desdemona again and again. With each accusation, Desdemona fervently maintains both her innocence and her love for Othello. Despite this, Othello is relentless in his accusations of his wife. It got to the point where I just wanted to slap Othello in the face and yell “Good God man, can’t you see that she’s telling the truth!?!” The play ended with Othello killing his wife out of rage and jealously, and then taking his own life once he realized her innocence.

I left the theatre depressed for two reasons. (1) Because the ending of the opera was depressing and (2) because I paid a lot of money to see an opera in the opera house, only to leave the opera house feeling depressed. Essentially, I was depressed because I was depressed…If that makes since? It wasn’t until after realizing what I had learned that I began to appreciate the opera.

The tragedy of Othello is that no one had to die. Othello should never have believed Lago in the first place. Someone once told me that you trust the person that you love no matter what, even if the whole world suggests otherwise. The opera reinforced this message. It showed how ugly jealously and distrust can be, how it can rip apart friendships and relationships. Hopefully the message will stick…

I spent the rest of my time in Sydney walking through all of the “touristy” areas. I walked through the botanical gardens, I walked across the harbor bridge, I went to Darling Harbor, and I went to star city and almost saw Phantom of the Opera. It was fun…Traveling by myself. I realized something though. I think that I’d much rather have someone to share it with

The Early Days of Newcastle

dbsig33 — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 19:43:00 GMT

Good or bad, the first few days in Australia were not what I imagined…they were hard. I was forced to do something I hadn’t done in awhile; step outside my comfort zone. Each place I visited was foreign, every person I met was a stranger, and the country I had come to live in was overwhelmingly intimidating. I realized that the friends and family that I once clung to for security were now thousands of miles away. To sum it up in a few words, I had to start all over again.

Things started to get better after the first couple days. It was very gradual at first, but I started to notice a trend of each day being better than the previous one. This trend began when I got a job. One morning, I went into the Hub Coffee shop in our university’s student union to get some breakfast and relax. After eating my food, I thought to myself “what the heck, I’ll ask if they have any job openings.” I approached the counter and asked. Jess, the girl behind the register (who would later become my boss), told me to come back with a resume. Two hours later I handed in my resume. Jess looked at it for about 30 seconds, and with a smile on her face, she told me to show up for training on Saturday.

The trend continued as I began to know my housemates better. There are five of us in all; Harris from South Korea, Korina from Malaysia, Anna from The Netherlands, Joanna from Malaysia, and me…The American. From day one I got on well with Harris. He is a hard guy not to like. There is still a bit of a language barrier between us, but each day I feel like we understand each other a little better. In contrast, things were kind of awkward with the girls at first, mainly because of my reaction when I first met them. I was not expecting to live with girls when I came over here, so it caught me really off guard. On top of the problem of my initial awkwardness, it became even more difficult to build a friendship with my female housemates because Korina and Joanna were both very shy for the first few days. I don’t know who it was that let down their guard first, but once it was down, friendships began to form. My housemates are all respectful of one another and incredibly easy to live with. I can honestly say that I appreciate each of them and look forward to building stronger friendships with them over the next few months.

The big turnaround was about a week into my trip. It was a Tuesday night, and I was sitting alone in my room with nothing to do. Suddenly my phone rang. When I picked it up I was greeted by a “G’day David, this is Chris. Your housemate Joanna told me you were interested in a bible study. Would you like to come with me tonight?” I met Chris outside, and was both shocked and delighted to find that it was the same Chris who helped me find an RA my first night in Australia.

I don’t know how to explain it, but from that night on, foreign places have become familiar, strangers have become friends, and Australia has become home.

Gallery: The Early Days of Newcastle

dbsig33 — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 20:54:00 GMT

Arrival

dbsig33 — Sun, 3 Aug 2008 17:08:00 GMT

“Have I not commanded you? Be Strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” –Joshua 1:9

A word of warning: Traveling to Australia is a looooong trip, even by plane. I left sometime early afternoon on Monday July 14^th, and didn’t get to Sydney until mid afternoon Wednesday July 16^th. Through the midst of it I tried in vain to keep track of my actual travel time, but lost count somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. It’s a weird feeling…crossing over ten time zones and having absolutely no clue where you stand in the space time continuum. It wasn’t until early Wednesday morning when the sun began to rise that I had my first actual reference of time. Our plane was flying due west, causing a dramatic race between plane and sun. This was my favorite part of the flight…looking out of the back window at the rising sun, watching as our plane was inevitably captured by radiant sunlight.

Due to some flight delays, I arrived in Sydney about two in the afternoon; moderately jetlagged, but severely confused. There was supposed to be a van waiting to pick me up from the airport and take me to Newcastle (3.5 hours north of Sydney), but because we were so late, I missed the van by over four hours. I was left with two options; pay $500 AU to take a cab to Newcastle, or pay $28 to take the train…I chose the train.

In the midst of my confusion at the train station, I found out just how friendly people can be. I stood with all of my bags in Central Station, desperately searching for the correct train to take to Newcastle. I was in a foreign country with no clue where to go. By this point I was tired, confused, and a little homesick. People could easily tell that I wasn’t Australian and that I was clearly lost. Rather than ignoring me though, people came up to me and gave me directions…I didn’t even have to say anything. It doesn’t seem like much, but at the time the unrequested help was like a gift from God.

After three and a half hours on the train, I finally arrived in Newcastle, but at the wrong station. I stepped out onto the platform and was greeted by nothing except the night sky. Besides me, the platform was completely empty. Saying that it was kind of eerie is a bit of an understatement. After waiting in the dark for about twenty minutes, the next train finally came.

I had made it to the correct station in Newcastle, but had no idea how to get to my apartment, or even to the University. Fortunately, I ran into an Australian named Manzel who knew exactly where the International House was. He offered to give me a lift and I gladly accepted his offer. Manzel dropped me off right outside the International House (which isn’t a house at all but rather a collection of forty some apartments). It was about nine at night by the time I walked up to the office to check in. The door was locked, but there was a guy sitting inside the office lobby reading. I came to find out that the guy’s name was Chris. Although Chris wasn’t an RA, he was more than willing to drop what he was doing to find one for me. And so, at about 9:15 pm July 16^th, I had made it to Block 10 unit 1010 of the International house…My new home.

Departing Thoughts

dbsig33 — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 17:22:00 GMT

“No, Life cannot be understood flat on a page. It has to be lived; a person has to get out of his head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath: I’ll tell you how the sun rose A ribbon at a time…” –Donald Miller, Through painted Deserts

“We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out , wouldn’t it? It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out. I want to repeat one word for you: Leave. Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn’t it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted it to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don’t worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.” –Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts

It is my belief that every great adventure requires at least one thing; growth. If you think back to any significant adventure that occurred in your life, you will surely find that it changed you. It made you stronger, it gave you a different perspective, it made you a better person, it helped you to grow. Sometimes this growth is anticipated before hand, sometimes it is discovered long after the adventure has occurred. Regardless, one thing holds true; without growth, the activity in question is not an adventure, but rather a pleasure trip, a vacation, an empty distraction. Therefore, although I anticipate a great deal of fun, the main reason that I go to Australia is to experience growth.

It is not my goal to be overdramatic in my writings about the adventure to come. After all, I’m only going to be gone for six months, and Australia is a relatively safe country. At the same time I don’t want to downplay it. This is a big deal for me. In his book Wild At Heart, John Elderedge recalls the first time he was given permission to ride his bike around the block. Although a seemingly trivial thing, at the time he couldn’t have been more excited. Elderedge writes that it was almost as if he was given a charter to explore the new world. In a way, this is my first time around the block. The first time that I have truly ventured out into the unknown with only God to turn to for strength and courage. This is why I think I will grow. This is why I see my stay in Australia as a great adventure.

Thank You

dbsig33 — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 17:19:00 GMT

Before my first official post, I think it’s important that I take some time to express my appreciation. With what little wisdom I possess, I am able to understand that I am not the one who is largely responsible for this journey. There have been various forces and influences that have acted upon me in the twenty one years that I have spent on this earth. Without these, my present adventure would be nothing more than a dream…

Thank You:

To my parents. For 21 years of love and support. Never once did you doubt me, never once did you try to kill my dream. Thank you for believing in me. To my friends and family, whose presence in my life has helped shape me into the man that I am today. To my brothers in Christ, for eternal bonds of fellowship that will never be broken. To Brian and Paul, who always encouraged me to dream big and live free. To the special girl in my life whom I adore and cherish…We have quite a journey ahead of us. Thank you for giving this crazy long distance thing a shot. Finally and most importantly, to the creator of the universe, the lion of Judah, the wellspring of life. Without you I am nothing. You make dreams become reality…