37 Days till sojourn begins.

One may ask, having read the previous blog, why indeed did I go over the first time, in the first place? What motivated me to pack my bags up (in my typical last minute ditch effort ad hoc fashion) and board a sizable chunk of metal (that mockingly defies gravity) on an 16 hour, insomnia inducing ordeal (well it was kind of cool, I had window seat), over a seemingly endless sea of blue, attempting to chase an endless daylight (and that only got me as far as Los Angeles)?

Figure P2.0 Venice Beach during my 8 hour stop over in LA (photochemical haze in background)


There is the reason and then there is the real reason. Both reasons have associated with them full, extended and abridged versions. Henceforth I will provide the real abridged version. I wished to kill two (or more) [insert animal or inanimate object of your choice] with one stone/multi-goaling/ have my cake and eat it too/been a kid ,who also happens to own and operate a candy shop call it what you will. The reason itself was an agglomeration of sperate reasons, which by themselves would have been reason enough.

So in no hierarchical or particular order;

1) I wished to see and reconnect with several citizens of the LOFCF I got to
know whilst staying at Janet Clarke Hall.

2) I wanted to see how an LOFCF camp, which was similar in philosophy to
Wollangarra operated, soak it up like a sponge while emercing myself in the
culture. and covertly passing on my body knowledge and culture to all who inhabit
the place (it was either that or the introduce the plague).

3) I wanted to checkout (post) graduate chem eng programs and see a public
lecture or two

4) Go the taping of Tonight Show with David Letterman.

The reason that I travelled there is not necessarily the reason I chose to stay, travel where I did, why I left (The dates on my visa sort of fixed that one though) or what actually transpired. Such things can never really be foreseen and are all part of the journey. There is always a plan (however poorly thought out or extravagantly exorbitant), though nothing is ever set in stone. One cannot be as rigid as bamboo (depending on what variety), or flexible as a reed (unless you’re the T1000 or that guy off X-Men in which case you could be both). There is always some middle ground. The experience itself changes you. But I digress.

Now for the explanation of the real abridge reason(s) (i.e. extended real reason) …..

All told I probably would have never gone over in the first place had it not been for the citizens of the LOFCF I met whilst living at Janet Clarke Hall. I would have always just been a pipe dream, a what if scenario to pose as a point of discussion and verbal dissemination (like if superman took on the Incredible Hulk (Question: why do his trouser grow proportionally with his body!!!?) who would win?). Much of which would not have occurred had it not been of a wall of death of sorts and much upheavel within the student body. For better or worse it brought the LOFCFian’s in by the Indonesian boatload into the halls and lives of the what remained, creating a different dynamic (for lack of better word) between the principle and the student body. Both Jon and Caroline predated the wall of death incident, though Sam and in particular ABC were at the front line.
I would certainly argue that I never got to really know all these interesting characters as well as I should have. I was one of those people who was there, though never there (ambipresent if you will). I knew of people but never knew them (and vice versa). I could tell you what happened, but nothing of the experience.. I guess I always listened a hell of a lot more than I spoke. That’s always been the way I’ve approached things and understood the consequences. This is not to say that each has not had an impact on me, infact the contrary. Though I would wager on my life I barely managed a impact on theirs in the grand scheme (no D&M’s or such) but that was the nature of the beast. Either way I was not sure each would react to been contacted. As luck would have it each was willing to catchup with me at some stage during my time over there.

I’ve been involved for the most part in a voluntary capacity with the Wollangarra Outdoor Education Centre (located in east Gippsland half-way between Heyfield and Licola) for about eight years now. Some places you visit (even if only briefly) and they have a profound effect on you and change to course of your life. Wollangarra was that place for me. Much of it has do with the people I met and seeing what was possible if people came together for a common cause (be it something as simple as washing the dishes) while being surrounded by nature. The more I was involved the more I came to realise How many lives are woven into the fabric of the place hearing the little stories nothing ever occurs in a vacuum. The general philosophy it to raise awaness within all who come to Wollangarra of themselves, awarness of others and of the environment that surrounds them and to which they are connected. That young people and the mountains and natural environmental are natural parents and share a common future help strengthen these ties so they will be self sustaining. That purposeful work (how ever simple in nature) produces many vauble life experiences. I wanted to find a camp with a similar philosophy I could not find a camp with a similar focus (though maybe I was looking in the wrong places). Merrowvista was the best fit I could find it was not simply a money making venture, nor simply there to make up the numbers as it were. So I got in contact with them. Had an interview over the phone (as I recall I bagged (bagged may be understating it) the crap out of New Zealand cricketing pedigree. Rightfully so too, got to give credit/bagging were it’s due) and the rest, as they say is history. In a series of compounding coincidences Both Wollangarra and Merrowvista have sister camps Mittagundi and Miniwanca respectively. Both Wollangarra are Co-Ed. Both Mittagundi and Miniwanca are run single sex programs. The direct translation from a Native American dialect of Miniwanca is place of many waters. Mittagundi is pseudo derived from an Aboriginal dialect to mean campsite (place) by the (Mitta Mitta) river. The log cabin style architecture of both Mittagundi and Miniwanca is simiar as shown by Figure P.3 and P.4. The stars certainly aligned in some really strange way.

Figure P2.1 Miniwanca style accomidation

Figure P2.2 Mittagundi's rustic yet stytlish accomidation

Figure P2.3 Merrowvista's Ampitheatre. Euripedes eat your heart out.

Figure P2.4 Wollangarra's main homestead and tool shed, viewed from fire pit

Just for clarification and on a culturally contextually humorous note (at least for Australians) LOFCF pronunciation for Minwanca is (Min-E-Won-Car) not (Min-Knee-Wan-Ka). Somehow I think the T-shirt would struggle to sell units in the men’s 10-50yrs age bracket down under (at the very least it would be an uphill battle). For all those citizens of the LOFCF, let the enlightening begin. Definition of Wanker

As far as the University stuff goes I had a dream an epiphany of sorts, I don’t really know from whence it came (I suspect overtly patriotic rhetoric), by which if the more one worked (in the case of Arnold Palmer (four time Masters Tournament Champion) the more he trained) the luckier one got. Fate is indeed what one makes (when not baking a cake or other culinary creation

filled with full of doughy goodness). I wanted in part to know what made these places tick to see what all the fuss was about. To see if I could indeed keep up with the Jones’s (if not give them a good run for their money). An allagy can be made between art work and public lectures in Australia. You may see one Picasso as part on an roving exhibition every decade or so. At MOMA there is a wing dedicated solely to Picasso! There is just no compassion. Likewise quality speakers are few and far between, but in the LOFCF they are a dime a dozen. You never really appreciate something until you don’t have it. The only way you will ever see that is by making the effort to travel.

David letterman, what more can I (or need to) say? You know what your getting and he doesn’t disappoint (it’s the script writers producing the material that do that). The format is ageless and he (the script writers) doesn’t mind taking the piss out of himself (him) without overdoing it (as per Bert Newtown’s toupee jokes). The idea that if it ant’ broke, don’t fix it comes to mind and I would give that two thumbs up.

The reasons I think were right and have to be viewed in an overall context of what was going on in my life at the time. I needed a jolt to the system. I needed something to challenge me. I needed to be humbled. I needed to take some calculated risks. I needed to think for myself. I needed to take more responsibility. All of these things which had to a greater or lesser extent eluded me up until the point I walked through the automatic doors of international departures entrance at the Melbourne International Airport (Victoria not Florida).
So what was the real reason again?