Feeling relaxed and mellow :)

Now that all my major essays are (almost) done and dusted, I feel so relaxed and mellow! I'm still a little stressed - in the back of my mind I'm thinking about my exchange application that is due in two weeks, the impossible politics quiz due next week, and the upcoming week of doom for Italian (when they've set us about a thousand tests in one week), but it doesn't seem to matter right now because my essays are done! Finito! Finally! :P

And all I want to do, is laze around. I want to get excited about the units I'm planning to study in Milan next year. I want to read the latest Frankie magazine, and my brand spanking new copy of A Tale of Two Cities, that have been sitting on my bedside table for the past 6 weeks begging to be read. I want to go to Fremantle with my brothers or my friends, eat crepes at Fidel's Cafe for breakfast, get coffee from Tim (the brilliant barista from Black Cherries espresso) and then traipse around the markets, buying fruit and buckwheat flour to make banana bread. I want to test out some new recipes, keep teaching myself how to sew, and watch a movie. And I really would like to catch up on all the blogs that I've recently discovered, but have been too busy to keep up with.

Piccolo Lattes.
Tim's Handiwork & Nageena's photography.

Now that I've finally started exploring the blogosphere - 50 blog entries and a year after I started this thing - I'm really excited to make some new friends. There's so many fantastic pages out there, with fantastic tales of travel and fashion, of cooking and of life just in general. There's beautiful photos, recipes and links to hilarious and inspiring things. I've never been that excited about the internet - I like paperback books and handwritten letters. I like catching up with friends in person, and meeting people for the first time in real life, without the awkward 'I have seen your face in my facebook feed. It appears there almost every day and so I know an awful lot about you'.

But blogging seems so different! It's a way of getting to know people from all over the world, who have actually put themselves out there to be found - who want to share the things that they are interested in. And I'm so excited about it!

First though, I should probably do that quiz. And the exchange application... But I can't promise I won't be sneaking in a few glances at all of your rad blogs while I'm at it :P

Over and out.
Rhi xx

Reasons I shouldn't let my friends use my phone :P

Taking hipster photos of uni at night.

PS. Scuse the iphone-edited, hipster photos. I have a bit of a thing at the moment for grainy photos and so I get a little overexcited using camera+ :P

Surfing in the USA

One

For as long as I can remember, I've thought I had the potential to be excellent at everything.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to surf.

When I started at a new school in Grade 10 - senior school - the thing I was most excited about was that they ran a surf camp, so I quickly set to work convincing my parents to let me go. I told them my knees (which have since earned me the name Dislocato Girl) hadn't been too sore lately, and that my shoulders were all good. That surfing would be good for me, it would build up my muscles and keep me active. They said yes, and for the few months leading up to it, all I could think about was getting into that water and riding a wave; being one of those people I'd admired since I was a little kid.

On the day of the camp, I could't sit still in class. My feet were twitching, my hands were fidgeting, my brain would wander and I'd end up smiling a cheeky smile in classes that, on that day, could not have been any more dull.

We got onto the bus and I was still full of nervous anticipation. We drove for what seemed to be forever, and when we finally got there, all we got to do was look out at the tumbling, swirling ocean. The surfing would have to wait until tomorrow.

6am on Saturday, and I was up and raring to go. No matter about the dark grey clouds or the other girls who weren't nearly as irrationally excited as I was, I was gonna get out into that water, and it was going to be amazing. I'd stand up on my first try, and somebody would tell me I'm a natural. All my dreams would have come true.

I pulled the wetsuit over my body with all my might, sighed like the other girls about having to wear a helmet, but secretly didn't care. I listened eagerly to what the instructor was telling me. I was paddling through the sand, jumping up and singing 'surfing in the USA, woohoo!!' even though everyone thought I was ridiculous. And then, my time came.

"So, who wants to go first?"
I looked around nervously, hoping no one would put their hand up, and then, with fake reluctance and another cheeky grin, "I'll go."
"Aye! We have an adventurous one! I'll be nice to you for not being scared to make a fool of yourself."

I waded out into the freezing water, glaring yellow foam board alongside me, and the instructor teasing me gently. I was determined. I was preparing myself. I wasn't going to fall off the board and be laughed at, I was going to stand tall. The other girls would be in awe, the instructors would be excited to find a great talent, and I'd be riding on the top of the world.

I jumped onto the board, and had a couple false starts. "Ooooh here comes a good one! Oh wait, no, we'll just have to wait for the next set to come through."

And then it came, looming on the horizon. A wave that was positively tiny but perfect for my aim came rolling towards me.

"Ready?! GO!" The instructor pushed me deftly into the white wash, I mistook the adrenalin in my veins for the push of the wave they'd told us to wait for, leapt off of my chest and onto my feet, ready for my moment of glory, and slid straight off the back of the yellow beacon into ice cold water. I forgot everything they told me about protecting my head and just kept on getting pummelled until the wave couldn't go any further. I came up spluttering, looked around and wondered what had gone wrong. I turned back to the instructor and she grinned, "woohoo! You jumped way too early! Bit too excited, hey? Oh well, come back and try again, yeah?"

There's still hope yet, I told myself, and pushed stoically against the waves as I trekked back to the instructor and my friends cheered me on.

As I lay on the board, looking back and waiting for the instructor to pick me the perfect wave, I prepared myself again. This time, I'd do it. This time, I'd wait for that rush. But as it turned out, that time, I'd wait too long for the rush. That time, the white water would come and I'd lay waiting on the board, before it tumbled us over, and I was in the drink once again. I relaxed a little into the pummelling waves, and waited for it to spit me out. I came up spluttering, shook my head and shrugged back at the instructor. My friends giggled gleefully and I became all the more determined. It would happen.

I turned back, body encased by swirling currents, and fought my way through the ocean back to the instructor.

"Okay, one last try and then you can start pushing yourself into them. I need to help the others."

Rhianna, this is your chance. You're going to do it. You can pull it off. Ready? The voice in my head encouraged hesitantly.

I looked back to the horizon, waiting for the sweeping wall of water, no longer sure of my own dexterity. My instructor got excited, "woah-oh this is a good one! In three, two, ONE!!!"

I was off and I was up. I felt that white water hit the back of my foam board, moved my hands to hold onto its rim, jumped onto my feet, keeping low and crouched down. I wobbled a little, and slowly rose up, my face set in determination. It was like learning to stand up all over again. Slowly, slowly, I pulled myself upward, straightening out my legs until I was up, I was standing, and I was grinning and whooping like never before. My arms went out triumphantly and I laughed. The adrenalin was pumping though my nervous veins, my friends were clapping and cheering me on, and I was finally on top of the world. I rode it out for as long as I could, and that still felt too short, jumped back into the water and looked at my friends.

"WOOOOHOOOOOO!!"

They all laughed at me and I wasted no more time going back for more. I spun the victorious piece of yellow foam around, adjusted my ankle strap and ran back out to do it all over again.

Two

It's been a tad over six years since this day, and I still remember it so vividly. I haven't surfed in such a long time (stupid dislocato girl), but it's coming, I swear. By the end of this winter I'm going to be out there. I'll be falling off my board and spluttering and being absolutely battered by the immense ocean, but just being out there with my hunk of beat-up fibreglass will put me on a high. Except this time, I'll know not to care about being the best. Because now I know, and it is probably one of the greatest lessons surfing ever taught me, that quite often, it's ok to just be average at something, but it doesn't mean you can't love it and keep doing it all the same.

I hope you're all having a radtastic weekend! I'm trying not to fall asleep while attempting to complete my cacophony of assignments, and dreaming of a surf, a good book and hot chocolate. Rhi xx

The India Project: Days 5 & 6

We're getting to the part of India where I couldn't find time to write anything but small notes, and honestly it seems like so long ago and the memories are a bit of a blur already (how I wish I could go back!) So, I shall endeavour to write about my adventures as fully as I can, (all while pretending I'm writing them while I was there) because I really would like to share them with you, but instead it might be that as well as these posts, every now and then, a random blog will appear with a story that I forgot to tell you all :)


By far the most two exciting things that have happened over these two days are visiting an orphanage, owned and run by my Uncle's friend, Mohan, and going to a tea factory. In the tea factory, I was lucky enough to have another of my Uncle's friends, Luke (whose family I am hoping to go back and stay with :D) telling me how the process worked instead of attempting to read the small signs without my glasses. It was also great because it helped me to gain an insight into more of the culture of India.

The Tea Process
1. Use humidifiers to dry out the leaves.

2. Transfer leaves to boxes,
so tourists can take hipster photos :P

3. Pour down a chute to the next floor.

4. Something, cut and roll the leaves.
I can't remember the first part.

5. Dry the leaves.
I think the long tube machine had a cool name, like 'googy'
but I could be wrong...

6. Pour the dried, rolled tea leaves down the next chute,
so they can go to the final floor.

7 (not really). Cram many people into the room.

7 (yes really). Sort leaves into their types.
Finito!

I asked Luke if he'd been to the tea factory many times, which was apparently a bit of stupid question. He told me that he and his wife and two sons go there quite often, about once a week, just to have a cup of tea together. I'd honestly never thought until then about the apparently worldwide significance of something as simple as sharing a drink together, whether it be with family, friends or someone who you're just getting acquainted with. In a bizarre way, it was kind of comforting to know that this isn't just something that is confined to my own culture. It made me feel even more at home in Ooty, and makes me all the more excited to return.

The orphanage was fantastic. It was saddening, but it was brilliant. In the past few posts I think I've mentioned the need in India, and while there is still definitely that need, there is also so much good going on! All these people see the poverty and the injustice and they set out to do something about it, completely selflessly. Mohan and the Mizpah home is a great example.

Mohan was orphaned as a young boy, and was lucky enough to be taken in by a good orphanage. He said that it was this experience, and knowing how lucky he was, that made him want to open his own orphanage if he ever got the chance - to give to the society. There are 29 kids at Mizpah homes, and two brothers, whose mother had abandoned them in the woods, temporarily there while he found a new place for them so they wouldn't have to be separated. The work that he is doing for them, on a wage so small, is truly remarkable. Mohan and his wife, Jenny, ensure the children are educated, have good medical care, learn good English and most importantly, that they are loved.

Mohan, some of the kids from Mizpah homes, and Me.
It took a bit of convincing to get the littley with rad orange
pants to stand in front of me :P

And another one, just because I can :P

My visit to Mizpah homes was so inspiring - the fact that there is so much need is heartbreaking, the fact that it has revealed so much of the good in humans makes me want to scream and shout and dance in the streets. I feel the need to tell everyone about it! (I also feel the need to adopt a little girl, Adithya, who was 3-years old and had the most fantastic smile, but that's another story) :P

Adithya.
It was hard work to get her to stand far back enough from
the camera so that I could get more than just one of her eyes :D

And on that joyous note, I shall leave you all. For tonight, we are going out for dinner and tomorrow should be a wondrous day of shopping, and yet a terrible day because we will be leaving Ooty. Just thinking of it makes me want to go and hide somewhere so that I can stay and explore for longer!

With love from India,
Rhi xx

PS. Today I discovered that when it rains, it pours.