Florence

We left Venice the next morning and drove through Bologna (where we had Tagliatelli Bolognese, not spaghetti, for lunch) to Florence. After a bit of searching we were able to find our hotel without a map.

There was still a few hours of daylight left so we went into the town to see the sights.

Florence is a lovely city but doesn't have many tourist attractions, just the Ponte Vecchio, the Duomo and Michaelangelo's David. We stayed only one night.

Venice

So Cindy and I flew from Paris (actually, from Beauvais, a little town outside Paris' suburbs with an airport that serves Paris) down to Venice on a cheap little Irish airline. We caught a bus from the airport into Venice itself and, after asking about five locals for directions, we found our hotel. The next day we did a lot of walking around the tourist district centred on la Piazza San Marco. Bought a lot of souvenirs and tried to communicate with waiters in Italian.

The smattering of Italian that I've remembered after studying the language for five years at high school is actually quite helpful. But speaking certainly doesn't come as naturally as reading.

Parc Astérix

Today Cindy and I went to Parc Astérix with a couple of her friends. The roller coasters were small but intense. And we got to meet Astérix and Obélix!

Paris

So now I've really seen Paris. Today Cindy and I went up the Eiffel Tower. (We also saw the Sacré Coeur Basilica and Moulin Rouge but those photos don't include berets.)

We're not in Kanzas anymore

Well, I've arrived in Paris safely. The 9 hour leg from Detroit to Paris was bad but not nearly as bad as that 14 hour flight from LA to Sydney.

Got in just before noon so I didn't do anything much but go to the supermarket [in a stupour] and try to understand the things Cindy's parents are trying to say to me in French.

I'll definitely take lots of photos in the next two weeks. I'll try to post a lot of the, because it's much easier than typing on a French keyboard!

En route à Paris

I'm leaving for Paris this evening. I've been packing this morning and printing off all the documents I need. I have my travel insurance, I've checked in online and I think I'm ready to go!

I have a layover in Detroit then a 9 hour flight to Paris. I'll arrive midday Friday, their time. I'll let you know once I'm there safe and sound.

Another one bites the dust

I've just had a hard disk crash today. The second in just over a year. (At least this time I didn't have a paper due just a few hours later.) Luckily I have hard copies of everything that's due for my French class and back ups of most other vital things. Except I'll lose quite a bit of what I've downloaded and all the music that's not on my iPod.

C'est la vie!

Addendum - 2007/6/11
I've now resurrected the internal hard disk. Although I no longer trust it, I'll continue to boot off that volume but will keep all my important things on the 250GB external disk I've bought (only US$80, not bad).

The good news is that I had backed up 99% of a homework task for my French class that I thought I had lost as well as 3/4 of a translation I was working on.

J'irai en France

Well, Cindy and I finally bought our tickets to France a few days ago and are now booking flights and hotels for the Italian leg of our trip. There will be plenty more interesting posts coming in the near future.

I'm not too worried about the touristy thing. I was able to bumble around Montréal with barely a smattering of French and still manage to buy simple things, so long as I didn't try to ask about anything. I'm sure it will be the same in France and, of course, Cindy can always translate for me. But what does concern me a little is that we'll be staying with her parents, who speak barely a word of English.

My French class is going pretty well. (It's a second year undergrad class, so I can't take too much pride in the fact that I'm beating unmotivated frat boys. Seriously, the majority of undergrads here are about as motivated to learn as year nines; they're only there because their parents want them to be.) The other day my teacher paid me a big compliment by asking me "What are you doing in this class? Where did you learn to speak?" and telling me that my phonology is good. I was tempted to tell her about my secret weapon (a French girfriend) but instead I told her about the French table I go to every Tuesday evening. But now that we're learning more tenses - the future, conditional, future past and past conditional - it's starting to get a bit challenging for me too. But today I got to score a few participation points by correcting the teacher's spelling (there are a lot of homophones in French!). At least, I think it was in good humour when she said "Bravo, Nicolas!" and asked if I wanted to come up the front and teach!

First Amendment in Action

I saw something a little strange on the way home today. Now, on the edge of campus there is always a pair of Mormons holding a sign saying "Ask the missionaries any question" (I haven't yet had a chance to ask them the wind-speed velocity of an unladen swallow). Certainly these quiet Mormons are much more agreeable than the Mormons at UNSW who stand on Anzac parade accosting people as they try to cross the street.

Anyway, today there was another guy holding a sign that said "Warning: Your rights are about to be violated - seat belt check ahead." I was only a little surprised that there would be a seat belt check, that is something that a lot of Americans are quite lax about. More surprising was that someone would go to all that effort so that a few people can continue to not wear their seat belts.

But most astonishing is that there was a cop standing just 20m behind this guy, just watching him alert the traffic to the trap. Now, as I understand it, in Australia it's highly illegal to flash your headlights to alert other drivers about RBTs, ostructing the course of justice or some such thing. But this cop was just watching that guy with his sign. I can only assume that his right to free speech protected him. All the same, it's quite surprising that they didn't try to shuffle him off into a free speech zone.

Summer time, and the living is easy

I've just submitted my last paper for this semester and poured myself a strong drink. I'm now on holidays for three months. And by three months I actually mean three days, because I'm taking a summer class, which starts Tuesday.

Just like last summer, I'll be spending my time learning French. Although I did well enough last year to fulfil my department's language requirement but, while my reading skills are ok, my speaking skills are rather poor. So I'll be working on that, but not too hard.

Anzac Day Again

Another Anzac Day in the USA. This time I've made Anzac Biscuits to mark the occasion. The recipe seemed pretty easy except that you can't get golden syrup here. Not even treacle. Only a molasses that is as dark as pitch. (I think that's why it's Br'er Rabbit Brand.) In fact, they don't even know the word treacle, except for one of my classmates who had read it in Harry Potter! So I just used brown sugar instead of white and they taste the same.

Grey Bombers off Target

As we were getting into the car on our way home from the orchestra last night, Cindy pointed out an envelope under my windscreen wiper. I had received a parking ticket! (The first traffic ticket I've ever received.)

I didn't understand how, seeing as I was in a proper carpark. The ticket explained that I could contest the fine, so this was the explanation I submitted to the website:

Because I do not have a permit I was looking for a pay-parking space in the Jordan Ave parking garage. As I proceded to the lower level in search of a space I noticed that the boom gates were up and, as it was after 8pm and the booth was empty, I inferred that parking was free for the rest of the night. Had the booth been staffed I surely would have paid but, before I had a chance to pay, I received this ticket. The ticket states that I was in an A permit zone, however I was in a pay-parking garage. There were no signs indicating that any sort of permit was required.

It's all true. I really did believe that I was legally parked!

I still can't quite work it out. If by some chance I missed a sign on the way in saying that only permit holders were allowed, why would there be gates and a toll booth? And how could I not have seen it all the other times I've parked there when going to the orchestra?

I really don't want to pay the $40 but now they know who I am they'll be able to dock my pay! I briefly considered just ignoring the ticket, given that it's campus parking, not the real police. But I have heard that they can and do contact the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles to track you down from your rego number. Damn!

Update - 2007/4/20
Good news! My appeal was successful. In less than 48 hour I received this reply:

Thanks for your appeal. I just wanted to let you know that the citation has been voided, and there is no fine due. If you are a student and the fee has been transferred to your Bursar account, a credit will be issued next Thursday; look for it to post by early the following week.

Hurrah! My faith in the system has been restored.

Buona Pasqua a Tutti!

So, today I finally get to break my chocolate fast! What a shame that it's so hard to find good quality chocolate here. And even the low quality stuff doesn't get sold as eggs very much. They've been in stores for a while now but it's mainly little ones, very few egg-sized eggs and absolutely no 300g, 500g or 1kg eggs available here. (Nor is there the great variety of flavours we have in Australia. Cadbury Creme Egg is the only interesting one.) I think it must be true what the Australian newspapers report every year, that Australians take their Easter chocolate more seriously than any other country.

Nor are there hot cross buns. I have seen just one or two packets of rather nasty looking buns with custard crosses and white glaze, not what we're used to. And none of those terrific chocolate hot cross buns you get from Baker's Delight or Woolies. (I wonder how long they would last in the freezer. If Erin bought me some now, would they still be good when I visit in December?)

But the strangest thing I have to share with you is that in France, they don't have an Easter Bunny. Instead, their Easter eggs are brought by flying church bells! I thought Cindy was having a lend of me when she told me that. But then I saw this on French Wíkîpédïà:

En Belgique et en France, ce sont les cloches de Pâques qui apportent les œufs de Pâques. Depuis le jeudi saint, les cloches sont silencieuses. On dit qu'elles sont parties pour Rome, et elles reviennent le jour de Pâques en ramenant des œufs qu'elles laissent tomber à leur passage.

In Belgium and France, it is Easter Bells who bring the Easter eggs. From Maundy Thursday the church bells are silent, so it is said that they have left for Rome and that they return on Easter Sunday filled with eggs, which they let fall as they pass.

Strange but true.

Cold Again

After a few weeks of warm weather (mid-20s Celsius) it's turned cold again! Yesterday and the next four days we have top temperatures <10˙C.

And last night it started snowing again! There was a little more this morning but the flakes are so few and far between that I don't think it will accumulate at all.

Crazy! (Even the Americans are complaining about Indiana weather.)

My First Passover

Last night I had another traditional American experience - I participated in a Passover Seder dinner with my Jewish friends.

Before dinner we had to do a few ceremonial things. Sean lent me a kippah and we sat around the table to hear explanations of why the various things were eaten. I forget why we ate parsely dipped in salty water; something to do with tears, I think. The bread has to be unleavened because the Hebrews were in such a hurry to leave. I thought matzo would be like pita but it's more like a big cracker. Before the actual dinner we had to eat a matzo sandwich with horseradish and another with charoset, a mixture of diced apples and dates in wine. (For some reason they were refering to the horseradish as a "bitter 'erb", even though it's clearly a root, not a herb.)

The dinner itself was turkey, not Paschal lamb, it being America and all. It was pretty good, latkes with applesauce make an interesting side dish.

There were a few songs in English and various chants in Hebrew (my throat's quite clear now, thanks for asking) between which we had to drink four cups of wine. Unfortunately it had to be kosher wine, most of which is increadibly sweet. (I managed to buy a bottle that tasted like normal cab sav but the Manischewitz and every other bottle was really quite syrupy.) It was certainly an eye-opener to see my friends reading Herbrew so fluently (in their American accents) and recounting childhood stories steeped in traditions I've never heard of.

Dog Days

The hot weather has returned, after only a couple of weeks of mild weather. So, so humid!

Licensed to Drive

I've mentioned before that the state of Indiana doesn't recognise foreign driver's licences. So back in September I got a learner's permit but have been driving myself around on a temporary international driver's permit. I've become comfortable enough driving on the wrong side of the road and the last of the snow melted a few weeks ago, so today I went and did my driving test. When I first got my licence back in Australia it was in an automatic so this was a bit more difficult driving Fenry with his clutch. But I managed to pass the driving test on a manual.

However, I failed the eyesight test. When I got my Ls I was able to procrastinate long enough for my eyes to eventually focus on the letters and I just scraped through. But this time I had to put my glasses on and the guy put a thing on my licence to say that I always have to wear them. Oh, well.

But the one good thing about Indiana is the low taxes etc. They didn't charge me anything for the joy of taking the test. Unlike NSW, where my last licence cost me AU$129 for 5 years' worth, my Indiana licence only cost me US$21 for almost 7 years! (For some strange reason it expires on your birthday.) Somehow, despite this, all the highways are free, unlike NSW.

LibriVox

I've just discovered a great site. It's a community where people take public-domain books and make audio recordings that you can download for free.

This will give me something constructive to do with my iPod while I'm in the lab doing something boring like staring at a thermometer.

St Patrick's Day

St Patrick's Day is a big thing here in the US. I'm not sure why, they don't have any more Irish than Australia. I guess it's just the effect of Americans' habit of identifying with their ethnic heritage, no matter how many generations they've been here.

Not only do they decorate buildings with shamrocks but they do everything in green; including the beer. I had heard about green beer on St Patrick's day before I came here but didn't try it last year. So this year, even though I'm not normally a beer drinker, I decided to try a green Harp. It didn't taste any different.

After that pub we moved on to the Irish Lion, which was not nearly as crowded as I had assumed it would be. There I tried a drink called the Stinger, Woodpecker Cider topped with Guinness. It's not as bad as it sounds but, still, I won't be ordering it again. Next time I'll just get a half-yard of plain old cider!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Yesterday was my birthday. I baked myself a lemon-poppyseed cake with cream cheese icing (it still being Lent), which Cindy painstakingly decorated. All my American friends were out of town, spending Spring Break with their families but there were a few other friends still in town who came around to help me eat the cake. As you can see, it was only after we'd eaten four slices that I thought to take a photo. But it's legible enough for you to get the gist of what it said.

Trevor

Yesterday I heard something a little strange. One of my lab-mates asked me, "Have you seen Trevor today?" Now, I don't know the names of too many others in the lab, because they're in a different research group. Forgeting to speak in American I asked, "Is he the young bloke?" which only confused him. So I clarified, "Is Trevor the guy who works at that bench?" To which he replied, "No, she's the oc-health and safety officer."

I stared at him in disbelief. "You're looking for a woman named 'Trevor'! That's a woman's name?"

"Oh, yes, it's quite common," He assured me. I didn't actually accuse him of having a lend of me but something on my face made him produce Trevor Ann's business card. That had me giggling for hours.

Communication breakdown, it's always the same...

I've been having problems with MSN lately. For some reason people have been trying talk to me when I'm offline; I receive several messages all at once whenever I log in. I figure it's got something to do with the fact that it's through a Jabber transport but I don't care enough to do anything about it.

So if you find me particularly unresponsive, it may just be that I'm not really there. Still, it could be that I am there and just ignoring you! (Yes, Cameron, I'm talking to you!)

Worse still, I'm without an internet connection at the moment (I feel so naked!). I've changed my connection from Cable back to DSL (to try to save a little money). Although I asked them not to turn it off until Monday, I now find that the cable's not working. Sigh! So I'm checking my email only when I bring the laptop to campus.

Richard Thompson

Just got home from a concert. It's hard to believe but Richard Thompson played Bloomington, Indiana. Apparently he's come here on tour a few times before, years ago. Perhaps that fact that it's a university town means there's enough fans to make it worthwhile. They did sell-out a 600 seat theatre; luckily I bought tickets weeks ago.

It was just him, no band, with an amplified acoustic guitar, which he played with a ferocity normally reserved for fully electric guitars. It was fantastic to see him there actually working the instrument, watching him live gives you an appreciation for his skill that CDs can't convey. He played mainly classics, nothing from his latest album. At one point he offered to do a Fairport Convention number, letting the audience choose which one. Alas, he was deaf to my cries of "Meet on the Ledge" and played "Matty Groves" instead. But everything he played was fantastic.

Self Deprivation

I've decided that this is the year I give up chocolate for Lent. I thought it might be worth trying to test my self-control and make those Easter eggs taste even better.

I've never done it before but I think I can last, what is it, forty days?

Plenty of Precipitation

The day before yesterday was stinking hot, +2˙C! The snow started to melt, that counts as hot. Yesterday morning it was still hot and so we got rain instead of snow. Which is really inconvienient when there's still snow on the ground, it's like walking through a giant, white, non-potable squishee. But around the middle of the day the temperature dropped below freezing again and the rain turned to sleet! (At least, I think "sleet" is the correct word for when ice falls in tiny spheres (~0.5 mm), as opposed to snow-flakes or hail-stones, but Americans also use the term "frozen rain" and I can't quite work out the difference.) By the time I went out last night, around 8pm, it had turned into normal snow. Three different kinds of precipitation in one day!

But the really cool thing is that when the temperature dropped so suddenly the trees were still wet from the rain. So now the trees all look like they're still dripping water, but really they're encased in crystal-clear ice. It's so clear that the small drops at the tips look so much like liquid water that you expect them to be wet when you touch them. Unless you're looking you don't notice that the ice goes beyond the tips with a thin layer covering the whole branch. The forest on campus is quite spectacular when the sun hits all those sparkling trees!

Addendum 2007-2-15
Last night I had another new cold-weather experience when my car was snowed in. I figured that reverse gear would be low enough for me to get over the little mound of snow that Mr Plow had left behind my car. But what I hadn't reckoned on was the layer of black ice that had been forming under my car. After burning a little rubber a good samaritan passing by offered to lend me his snowshovel but by then I realised it was more about traction than the piles of snow so I didn't need the shovel. After about 10 min of pissfarting around I finally managed to point the wheels at the right angle to get myself out of the spot.

Some things just aren't meant to be deep-fried

I would never have thought it possible to make unhealthy something inherently healthy like green beans. Then last night I went to TGI Friday's. I was foolish enough to order bean fries for my "appetizer", as part of a set menu deal.

I soon regretted my choice, despite the "cool creamy Cucumber-Wasabi Ranch dip" being almost as good as it sounds. No, some things just aren't meant to be deep-fried (cf. deep-fried mozzarella, available in Oz from Chili's). This may seem obvious to you at home but time and again I find that this is something Americans fail to grasp.

Go the Blues!

Last night was the Super Bowl XLI - the Chicago Bears vs the Indianapolis Colts. Indianapolis is the closest city to me and Chicago is the next closest so Bloomington is full of fans of both teams.

The Colts won, so I think there'll be a lot of happy fans around here this morning (possibly a lot of sore heads, too). This is the first time they've won the Super Bowl since coming to Indiana so they'd normally have a ticker-tape parade for them. But today it's -19˙C outside, so I don't know what they'll do.

Ethnic Food

Last night Cindy and I went to a birthday party for a couple of her friends. It was a pot-luck dinner and we were asked to bring a dish traditional to our home country or family.

I decided to to take a pavlova. I had never made one before but I had a pavlova magic egg, which meant I didn't have to separate egg-whites. I really like passionfruit on my pavlova but couldn't find any anywhere in Bloomington, even in the ethnic food stores, so I settled on strawberries and kiwifruit. I had planned to just mix it with a hand whisk but after about half an hour of whisking with very little change we looked at the clock and realised that I would not be able to cook it, cool it, dress it and still get to the party on time at that rate. So, having already started, I resigned myself to going out and buying electric beaters ($7 from Target, bargain!). After it had cooled I saw that the centre had shrunk away from the outer shell but when I put the cream on top the shell cracked and fell on top of the centre. So there was no more gap but it was not at all a pretty shape. Nevertheless, when I arrived with it I was showered with praise by Americans who had no idea what a real pavlova was supposed to look like!

But the real coup of the evening was the dish Çîndy took - frogs' legs! Of course they're impossible to find in the Midwest (and I'm not too sure if I'd eat them of we did find them) so we just cut some chicken wings into the right shape, cooked them in garlic and labelled them "frogs' legs". Everyone was amazed and asked where we got them, to which we nonchalantly replied, 'Lake Monroe'. Somehow we got through the whole party without anyone calling our bluff! (Although, it was a close call when a Chinese guy said, 'I didn't know you could catch them this time of year.') I just hope they see the humour in it when Cindy tells them the truth on Monday.

More Brass Monkey Weather

When my family came to visit in December they were quite disappointed that it wasn't snowing. Indeed, it didn't snow at all during their stay. All of North America had a very warm start to the winter. But it's become a very cold January; the last couple of weeks have got much colder than last month and colder than I remember last winter being.

The problem's not the snow, there's very little of it. It's so cold that the air's too dry for much precipitation. When it does snow there's not enough time for big crystals to form so all we get is a very fine powder, which is not much fun to walk on.

The problem is simply that it's bitterly cold. The 28th got down to -11˙C and didn't get over -2; today it got down to -12˙and hasn't risen above -8! I'm not looking forward to this weekend, they're forecasting -13 to -7˙C on Saturday and -16 to -10˙ on Sunday! Oh, and the wind-chill etc. often takes it down to -23˙C.

Now, I'm quite frugal when it comes to heating my apartment. I try to spare the enviroment and my wallet by putting on a jumper before I turn up the heat to mid-range. But the other day I found that I just couldn't put any more clothes on but my fingers and toes were still cold, so I had to turn up the heat to the very highest level, for the first time since I've been here. Although I turn them down low when I'm out or sleeping, the heaters are never off.

Bizarre Beverages

When I was at Disney World I bought some little tins of hot chocolate that come in funny colours. I got around to trying them the other day.

The powder is white when dry (partly because is has a lot of powdered milk in it) but the colour comes out as soon as it gets wet.












I was surprised at just how psychadelic the colours are.





The only side effect is that it really doesn't taste that great - too milky, not chocolatey enough. A bit like white chocolate. I guess that's what happens when you try to change something to such unnatural colours.

Spring Semester 2007

Classes start back today. Of course the break wasn't long enough but I think I'll enjoy these new classes.

I'm taking:
"Descartes and His World", "Topics in the History of Alchemy" and "Experimental Philosophy" "Philosophy of Biology".

Now, most grad students earn their keep by teaching undergrads, as I did last semester. But this time around I have a Research Assistantship instead, helping Bill Newman with The Newton Project. Hopefully there'll be some overlap with the alchemy class.

Update - 12th January
I've decided at the last minute (Friday of the first week of classes) to drop the philosophy class that had a very high workload and only moderately interesting readings in favour of a philosophy of biology class taught by Lisa Lloyd, the professor whose undergrads I taught last semester (so I know she's excellent paedogogically). The material looks like something the whole class will engage with quite well and overall I think the class will be far more manageable.

Also, at the first meeting of the Descartes class, when discussing the readings, the professor asked, "Who reads French?" I had to admit that I did. (It's much easier to read than it is to speak.) So now I'm going to attempt to read a few of Descartes' shorter works in French. It could be a very slow process but I'm sure I'll learn a lot of vocab and it is good to have a definite practical goal.

Back in Bloomington

Being back in Bloomington I've noticed a couple of things:

Indiana is much colder than Florida. I don't know where my career will take me after this but I hope I'll be living somewhere much warmer!

Bloomington roads are much friendlier. Unlike Orlando, there are plenty of pedestrian crossings so you don't have to drive everywhere. And unlike New York, where cars turning at the lights will drive straight through a pedestrian crossing unless you're dead in front of the car giving the finger, here in Bloomington cars will see you standing on the footpath and wave you across, even though they have right of way!

I'm Going to Disney World!

On the second day, while Dad was at Cape Kennedy, Erin and I went to Disney World. We saw Epcot and the Animal Kingdom. One interesting ride had us sitting up high, surrounded by a curved screen with air blowing at us to give the sensation of flight. It wasn't that convincing but what was surprising was that when we flew through a pine forest we could smell pine and we could smell orange blossoms when we flew over the orange orchard. It was great but there was far too much for us to see two parks in one day.

New Years Eve we returned with Mum and Dad to see Disney-MGM Studios in the evening (after having a relaxing morning including a swim in the hotel pool). While Erin waited for a churro I took the opportunity to go on StarTours again. We saw a few other things including Fantasmic, which had been updated since we saw it at Disneyland in 1992. I went on the Tower of Terror and elevator ride that doesn't just drop you but bounces you up and down! We stayed until the midnight fireworks then went back to the hotel to pack. We didn't sleep at all New Year's Eve. On the way to the airport we got breakfast (about 3am) at IHOP, Erin's favourite restaurant.

The Orange State

After New York we flew down to Orlando, Florida.

The first day we went to Universal Studios, Florida and the adjacent Universal's Islands of Adventure. At the Islands of Adventure there were some pretty good roller coasters. The Dueling Dragons wasn't bad, although it was a bit of a worry that they had to stop the ride for a few minutes when something went wrong.

The scarier ride was the Hulk. It started off creeping up a slope where it feels like you're going to accelerate down the other side but instead you start accelerating before you get to the top! It was fun but really very intense. Dad said it was about as intense as his ride in a MiG fighter jet!

Something interesting I noticed about these two rollercoasters was signs on the way in saying something like "People come in all different shapes. Rows 3 and 6 have been modified to accommodate these variations." That is to say, as we boarded the ride, the guard directed the fatties to those two rows. A necessary thing in contemporary America. (I must say, these things serve as a bit of a reminder to me not to eat too much American food and not to let the car make me too lazy!)

The rollercoasters were good but what was quite new to me was Shrek 4D. Not only is the movie 3D but the seats also move. And there's more special effects. In one scene where a bunch of spiders appear (in 3D) you suddenly feel something brushing your legs! The seats are equipped with little air jets for this as well as water jets in the seat in front of you. Erin was particularly impressed (read: disgusted) when we felt Donkey's sneeze in 4D!

New York, New York, It's a Hell of a Town

After Boston we came down to New York city by train, staying in a little two-bedroom apartment just off Times Square (on 48th St between 8th and 9th Ave). It's certainly an overwhelming place. Not because of the tall buildings, I've spent enough time in downtown Sydney (and now Montreal) to be used to getting around a big city. The thing that struck me was the people. All the caricatures you hear about obnoxious New Yorkers are really quite accurate. The drivers are all insane, especially the taxi drivers, and the pedestrians are just as pushy. Erin was particularly appalled when she overheard a mother instructing her children to push and shove!

Erin and Mum are disappointed that it's not snowing and there's none forecast before we head down to Florida. (Erin is particularly sour, saying a White Xmas is the only reason she came all this way!)

The first day there we saw the American Museum of Natural History together then I went over to The Met by myself. The dinosaurs were very impressive, so many huge fossils! The Met also had tons of famous works but my favourite part was when I overheard an American badly mispronouncing French names, saying "My favorites are Monnett and Rennoyer."! Both museums were far too big to see all of. The walk back to the subway station through Central Park was a little scary as it was getting dark and I was by myself but I was fine. I think the danger might be a little exaggerated.

Christmas Eve we went to see the Empire State Building; the 3rd tallest building in the world, now that the World Trade centre is no more. Dad and I went all the way to the 102nd floor. It was VERY windy! That night we had dinner at a very expensive restaurant on Central Park, The Tavern on the Green, and then took a carriage ride through the park.

Boxing Day we toured the UN building in the morning and saw Little Italy and China Town in the arvo.

On our last day in New York we caught the ferry out to La liberté éclairant le monde. Dad and I went inside but you can't walk up into her head anymore, we could only go to the viewing platform at the top of the pedestal. Still, it was interesting to see such a famous landmark up close.

On our last night we had dinner in a Puerto Rican restaurant, just as appropriate to New York as our lunch in Little Italy the day before. One of the sides offerred was plantains (a word I recognised from a conversation I had with a couple of Latino friends who were patiently explaining to me the differences between Mexican and Puerto Rican cuisine). So I tried the green ones and Mum tried the sweet ones. The sweet ones were too much like bananas for my liking but the green ones were very starchy and, fried up, tasted much like potato scallops.

A chocolate so dark that light cannot escape its surface!

More important than where we went is this discovery I found at the Lindt store at Kittery: Excellence 99% (sic.) Cocoa "Noirissime" Dark Chocolate!

I expect that this will make Waden green with envy as they have been known to wax lyrical about the pathetically weak 85% variety. Wade said that 85% takes some getting used to. In fact, their website gives safety guidlines so that consumers aren't overpowered:

To fully appreciate its flavor and texture, we recommend that you progressively develop your palate through our range of high cocoa content chocolate bars, starting with Excellence 70% Cocoa, then 85% and finally 99% Cocoa.

I haven't opened it yet. I might take their advice and make a base camp at 85% before attempting the 99% summit.

Oh and, Baden, they recommend that you take it with coffee, not tea, as you are wont to do.

Boston and Salem

Yesterday we went walking around downtown Boston, we followed an historical walk and saw a few old buildings. Did a little shopping but overall a quiet day.

Today we took a drive up to Salem. We saw the memorial for the witched they hanged back in the 1690s. (Apparenly Arthur Miller stuck to the true story pretty closely, all the names match.)

Then we drove up through New Hampshire into Maine to some factory outlets at Kittery where Mum and Erin spent several hours shopping.

Pennsylvania

After leaving Washington we travelled up through Virginia and Pennsylvania etc. on our way to Boston. We spent most of Friday at Leesburg, Virginia outlet shopping. We stayed that night at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania and the next night at Milford, Pennsylvania. In between we stopped at Hershey, Pennsylvania, where we saw Hershey's Chocolate World. The animatronic tour was basically one big advertisement with a free piece of bad chocolate at the end. Oh, the kitsch value!

After Milford we drove through a bit of New York state and Connecticut into Massachusetts. Tonight we're in Woburn, in the outer suburbs of Boston.

The Centre of the Centre of the World

The first city on the winter trip with my family is Washington, DC. Yesterday Dad and I went to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum on the National Mall in the morning and then in the afternoon to another Smithsonian air and space, the Udvar-Hazy Center, out in Virginia, where they keep the planes that are too big to display in a normal building, as well as the space shuttle Enterprise.

Then today we got to take a tour of the White House and the Capitol. Not just anyone can do that, yoou have to organise it through your congressman (my friend Sean arranged it for us). The White House tour was ultra high security, of course but once we got inside it was self-guided. We saw all the stately rooms and it was pretty impressive.

The Capitol Tour was even better. A staffer took us behind the scences and all throughout the Capitol, telling us all the stories behind every little detail of the building, as well as how congress works. It was really a fantastic experience.

We also took a bus tour around the monuments. We went up the Washington Monument and saw the Lincoln Memorial. I was really amazed at just how big the Washington Memorial is. I had no idea that you can go up to the top of it; you sure can see a long way.

Brass Monkeys Again

I woke up this morning to find it particularly cold. After turning up the heat I checked the temperature and found that it was -11 ˙C outside! It's not going to get above -1 today. Yesterday it didn't get above +1˙. There was just a little snow on Friday, just a few flakes that melted instantly, nothing much to speak of.

Marshmallow Madness

As mentioned in my last post, I went to a Thanksgiving dinner with an American family on Thursday. It was a hot turkey dinner, of course, with all the usual stuff except sweet potatoes (most Americans call them "yams" but not these folks) which had gone bad. Anyway, even though this family never goes so far as to bake their sweet spuds with marshmallow, they do turn it into a quasi-dessert by mixing it with apples, pecans and cinnamon (which meant we had a cinnamony apple-pecan mixture with our main course, not as a dessert). I asked the cook about the sweet potato-marshmallow abomination I'd heard of and she agreed that other Americans are crazy to make their veges so sweet but somehow failed to see that her apples and cinnamon were doing the same thing.

I saw that the supermarket was low on marshmallows and wondered whether this was because so many people were cooking that dish for their Thanksgiving dinners but I also saw that they were on sale so I bought a packet. When I got them home I noticed this recipe on the back:

Whipped Sweet Potato Bake
Prep time: 10 minutes
Total time: 30 minutes

Ingredients:
1 can (40 oz.) yams, drained
¼ cup (½ stick) butter or margarine, melted
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. ground nutmeg
24 marshmallows (about 3 cups)

Directions:
PREHEAT oven to 350°F. Beat sweet potatoes, butter, cinnamon, salt and nutmeg in medium bowl with electric mixer on medium speed until well blended.

SPOON lightly greased 1 ½ qt. baking dish; top with marshmallows.

BAKE 15 to 20 minutes or until sweet potato mixture is heated through and marshmallows are lightly browned.

Makes 10 servings, ½ cup each.

I hate to admit it but I'm just a little tempted to try it, just for the sake of a gastronomic adventure.

And while we're on the subject, marshmallow also comes in jars here, i.e. as a spread. When first I saw it at the supermarket I didn't really understand what it was. Then the other day my friend Sean, who's from Boston, explained that they have a sandwich there called a "fluffer-nutter" with peanut butter and marshmallow spread on it (similar to the ubiquitous PB&J, I guess). But, whatever you do, don't look up "fluffer" in the Urban Dictionary! (Seriously, you don't want to know.)

A bit of slack

I have no classes for the next week thanks to Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving falls next Thursday, and everyone gets Friday off for the start of the Xmas shopping season, the university also gives students Wednesday off. But my Monday and Tuesday classes have both been cancelled so all I have to do is show my students a video on Monday morning.

So finally I get a chance to take a breath and try to catch up on things like grading and writing a couple of papers that will be due in just a few weeks.

Unlike last Thanksgiving, I won't be cooking a turkey (nor a turducken) to eat with my Indian friends (dot, not feather). Cindy and I have been invited to a Thanksgiving Dinner with an American family. It'll be interesting to see an authentic American Thanksgiving dinner first hand. I'll let you know if they serve the sweet potato and marshmallow (sic.) abomination that so many Americans love.

Don't Drink and Vote

Today's the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, in an even-numbered year; it's election day, here in the US of A. Mid-terms, i.e. the House of Reps and a third of the senate (as well as governors in some states).

Anyway, I just got back from the store where I saw a sign saying that it's illegal for them to sell alcohol before 6pm on election day here in Indiana! Even though the no alcohol on Sunday rule annoys me (why not a less-inconvenient day like Tuesday or Wednesday!?) I think that a dry election day is a good idea. If nothing else it might remind the winos to go out and vote.

Comrades

I went to a Halloween costume party Saturday night. I was hoping that Cindy and I could go together as a pantomime horse but that wasn't possible so I had to look for other costume ideas. I was considering a few different ideas when I asked a couple of my American friends what they were planning. Larry said that he was going as Fidel, so Sean said immediately that he would go as Che. There was nothing left but for me to go as Lenin.

I think we made a good trio.

Jack o' Lantern, Second Edition

After reviewing last year's effort, Cindy and I spent some time sketching a new and improved, now even scarier face before carving this year's Jack o' lantern. Last year I did the classic square teeth, which are ok but not very scary. This year the teeth are pointy and the eyes angled differently. I'm pleased with the result.

Once again, I toasted the seeds and made pumpkin soup, which I'll be eating for the next few months.

United States Bans Vegemite

Bad news: I've heard from two sources now that the US government has banned Vegemite! It sounds a bit strange, given that I've seen Vegemite for sale here in Bloomington (at SaharaMart), so I'm not entirely sure if it's true. But apparently now it's not only illegal to import it commercially but also for personal use. The story quotes a source - "Former Geelong man Daniel Fogarty, who now lives in Calgary, Canada, said he was stunned when searched while crossing the US border recently."

If they're serious about this I might have to write some letters and lobby for Australian citizens to be allowed to import small quantities for personal use. It could even be argued that Vegemite is a sacrament for us! Surely it's a right to bear Vegemite.

If it's tangy and brown...

This weekend I discovered the joy of car ownership. I took the opportunity to leave Bloomington and took a nice drive through the countryside. Today I went to a cider mill. I bought a gallon of cider and half a peck of golden delicious (before driving off in my car that gets forty rods to the hogshead!). Of course it will take me a while to get through a whole gallon (even if it is a US gallon, not an imperial one) but it's not pasteurised so the longer I leave it, the more alcoholic it'll get; I'm in no hurry. The same place was also selling pumpkins.

And yesterday I went to a little town called Nashville, Indiana (not to be confused with Nashville, Tennessee). It reminds me a lot of Leura. There was a little bourgeois kitchen store where I half expected to see Prue and Trude from Kath & Kim. But most importantly there was a "candy" store with many different types of liquorice. This was quite a find because most US supermarkets only have one brand of hard, chewy liquorice, with a bitter after-taste. The kid working there acted as my liquorice consultant, "What sort of liquorice do you like? Hard or soft? Strong or mild?" and we established that Kookaburra brand was best for me; "An Australian brand," he informed me.

Skype Video

Good news! Skype has released a beta version of a video chat client for Mac. This means I can now video chat with a lot more people (more than I could using iChat over AIM). If you have a webcam and miss seeing my beautiful visage, drop me a line. (If you're used to chatting with me on another network, don't worry, I'll still be on those too.)

Fall Foilage

That's right, while Oz is coming into Spring, it's Autumn here. And Americans don't just have autumn the way we have seasons, they celebrate "the fall". For some reason they feel it's not enough to see the different-coloured leaves everywhere they go (even in a town like Bloomington, where there are deciduous trees everywhere) they have to decorate their stores and sell season-specific foods. For a few weeks already the supermarkets have been decorating with pumpkins, selling "pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies" (sic.) and more normal biscuits decorated with "fall colors" ie orange icing.

No, it's not just that Halloween happens to utilise pumpkins for Jack o' lanterns, during the fall they celebrate apples too, eg prominent displays of cider and apple cider doughnuts. Saturday there was a "Fall Festival" across the road from my apartment at a museum. There they were playing quoits over pumpkins and selling pumpkin cake, pumpkin muffins, the traditional American pumpkin pie as well as apple cider. It had been years since I'd had pumpkin pie, and given the setting I thought I should give it another try, but it was just as bad as I remembered.

Oh, and Friday evening I was at a BBQ where there were many of these fall foods as well as marshmallow Jack o' lanterns, so I realised that this was some sort of fall celebration. And then all the Americans started bobbing for apples. I didn't participate.

You are what you eat?

I went to a different supermarket yesterday. The one nearest my place (just a few blocks away) is Kroger, which is the cheapest supermarket chain in Indiana. I guess I'm lucky that I had the cheapest one within walking distance this last year but now that I have a car I've realised that Marsh has a little more variety.

Anyway, going to a new supermarket was almost as much fun as going to an American supermarket for the first time. There were quite a few things I hadn't seen before but, better still, I saw some familiar products I didn't think I could get in the US. So now there's a couple less things that I won't be asking my family to bring from Australia -- Violet Crumbles and HP Sauce. The funny thing is that I rarely ate things like Violet Crumbles and Mars bars but knowing that I couldn't get them was enough to make me want them. Conversely, I used HP Sauce all the time when I was living in Oz; I couldn't eat steak without it! But now my diet has changed so much -- mainly Asian, Indian and Italian food -- that I decided not to buy a bottle. If I ever buy a BBQ then I'll start keeping HP in the pantry.

The really interesting part was the way this supermarket was arranged. You see, the HP sauce was on the shelf above the Nestlé chocolates. Nearby were Marmite, various jams and marmalades and something that looked like Gravox. I immediately realised that I'd found the British section of the supermarket! I shook my head as I walked past the steak sauce section, thinking how much more sensible it would be to keep the HP there. And then it got weird. As I walked past the Mexican food, I noticed candles for sale with Jesus and Mary's pictures of them! Now, we all know that tortillas and Catholic idolatry go hand in hand but really! (I also saw limes in the alcohol aisle, near the Coronas, I think. A more obvious combination. And every supermarket here has a small Kosher section but I've never seen menorahs for sale there.)

The question is: are these ethno-centric classifications more efficient than others? They could be, I guess.

Fenry Honda

Burns: Beep! Beep! Out of my way! I'm a motorist!
Chief Wiggum: That's some nice reckless driving, Mr. B.

Big things happening here. Seems I've once again thrown myself out of the comfort-zone I had found here: I've just bought a car, now I just have to learn to drive the thing! Not only is the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car and all the cars on the wrong side of the road but it's a manual and it's been a few years since I drove one. So while learning to keep to the right and indicate with my left hand, I have to remember how to change gears with my right. The state of Indiana wouldn't give me a licence automatically based on my Australian gold licence so I'm back on my Ls for at least 60 days. But I don't need to obey those rules, I can still drive myself around because I have an international driver's permit.


The car I've bought is a 1989 Honda Civic LX. As you can see it's a small 4-door, in less than mint condition. But it's good enough for my purposes. (N.B. That dent is from one of its previous owners, I have not hit anything yet!) At 1.5L, I'm hoping it will run on the smell of an oily rag. I bought it from another grad-student here who's just finished his degree, another Australian philosopher, would you believe it? I'm told the name is Fenry, a spoonerism. I can't think of anything wittier so I guess I'll keep the name.

This morning I tried to drive it to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles to register it (with Patty and Selma). I was told that the wait would be shorter at the Ellettsville branch, only 5 min further to drive. So I looked it up on the map, seemed straightforward. Except that it's pouring rain here today. I had the wipers and demisters all going so it was very hot inside and my visibility was pretty low. I aquaplaned right in front of the cop-shop and spun the wheels at a few lights with my less-than-smooth first gear starts. But I am getting better; the gear shifting has come back to me, now I just need to get used to this clutch and this engine. It was very stressful and quite disappointing that I didn't even get there on time! At least I did get back home, without getting too lost or hitting anything. Will have to try again Monday or Tuesday.

A leather jacket with tweed patches on the elbows

I just taught my first philosophy class today. As mentioned before, I'm taking two discussion sections for Lisa Lloyd's "Evolution, Religion and Society". The undergrads are slightly more formal here so I made a point of referring to the lecturer as "Professor Lloyd", even though I always address her by her first name. That already had me feeling quite the school-teacher when I returned to my computer to find an email addressed to "Mr. Best"! Ah, freshmen, they look at me and see a grown-up. Scary!

I think both sessions went pretty well. Unfortunately there's about 30 students in each class, quite an unwieldy number for a discussion class, so they discuss things in small groups and then relate to to rest of the class their answers. All I need to do is elaborate on those and explain the subtleties like the differences between theories, hypotheses and facts. We've been given a large list of study questions related to the readings, which I used to guide the discussion. There are more questions than we can get through but that just means we concentrate on the good ones. They seemed relatively well-engaged with the material, so I think it's going to get better as the semester moves on.

Back to Class

Well my summer break is all over; tomorrow classes start back.

This semester I'll be taking "Logical Theory", "History and Philosophy of Big Science" and "The Meanings of Darwinism".

On top of this, I'm an Assistant Instructor for Prof. Elisabeth Lloyd's class "Evolution, Religion and Society". This means leading two discussion sections of 30 students each, as well as attending the lectures. This is going to be a new challenge for me as I've never taught anything so philosophical before. Last thing I taught was first-year chemistry lab, before that I also tutored high school physics and maths. Leading a discussion will be very different: I won't have students walking up to me, test-tube in hand, asking "What's this?", instead I'll get vocal opinions; instead of being able to tell them "Try it again with fresh reagents" I'll have to try to elicit a consistent position. Hopefully the skills I picked up facilitating all those Greens meeting will come in handy.

In the past, all of my classes have been on the lower part of campus, closer to where I live, but now this section I'm teaching will be in a residence hall way up on 12th St. It's fine for me to walk all that way during the summer but once it starts snowing I think I'll have to take the bus. I was really annoyed that Larry, the other AI, got a normal classroom down on 3rd St but then I learnt that, because it's in a residence hall, I get $10 of meal points every week so that I can eat there (ie they're encouraging me to fraternise with the students). It'll be worth the walk if I get a free lunch every Friday.

Paper Anniversary

Today marks one year that I've been in the USofA!

ROTFLMAO

On one of my many procrastination trips to Wikipedia I stumbled across this prank that Barry Humphries liked to perform in his younger days:

This involved carrying a tin of condensed soup onto an aircraft, which he would then surreptitiously empty into an air-sickness bag. At the appropriate point in the flight, he would pretend to vomit loudly and violently into the bag. Then, to the horror of passengers and crew, he would proceed to eat the contents.

I cacked myself laughing when I read that!

I'm not so keen on Dame Edna, and I understand why most people are turned-off by Humphries's demenour, but that prank is just so funny that I had to share it!

Early Mark

Got some good news today. The instructor for my French class cancelled the last few lessons, Monday will be the last one! I have a take-home test due then but it won't be too hard.

That means I will have the best part of three weeks off before Fall Semester starts. No definite plans yet but hopefully I'll find something a little more interesting than the writing and the lab work that I know I should be doing.

Tea's proper use is to amuse the idle, relax the studious and dilute the full meals of those who cannot use exercise and will not use abstinence.

(I'm writing about tea? That's right, my life has been pretty quiet lately!)

I think I've mentioned already that living in the USA makes you feel more English. Well, drinking lots of tea contributes to this a little because Americans rarely drink hot tea. (However they do drink iced tea, which really is an abomination -- about as appetising as a hot glass of Coke!) In fact, I drink far more tea here than I did in Australia because the coffee here is weak and/or bitter. The best I can do for my morning coffee is buy an expensive Italian brand (Lavazza usually) and put it in my American dripolator. The rest of the day I drink tea.

At first it was just Twinings English Breakfast (or sometimes Irish, for a change). But when I was up in Montréal I just had to pick up some of Leonard Cohen's favourite tea, Constant Comment. And, even though I'm not so fond of green tea, a meal at Chinatown convinced me that Jasmine tea is not too bad occasionally.

I never took the whole brewing process too seriously, apart from making sure that the water is always very hot, but recently I was helping a friend move when she kindly gave me one of her spare teapots. Now I'm using it all the time. It lets me get two cups from each teabag and also allows me to try some other Chinese teas I'm starting to investigate, like Pu-erh.

Although I am becoming a little more adventurous (I couldn't even read the label on the imported Pu-erh tea) I still wouldn't be caught dead drinking chamomile "tea" or any other tisane. If it doesn't contain leaves of Camellia sinensis, it's not tea!

Independence Day

Today's the Fourth of July, that's Independence Day here in the U.S. of A. My first ever.

I'm going to a big party tonight and have just now got back from a trip with my American friends to the fireworks store. We bought about $60 worth of explosives for tonight! It's quite a novelty for me. While I do remember when fireworks we legal in NSW, I was always too young to let them off myself so my memories are all of my father and uncles doing it all. (Except for that New Years Eve when my cousin was able to procure some...) From what I can see, they have pretty much the same sorts here, except no bungers. Oh, but this being for Fourth of July, some of them are a bit more patriotic than any fireworks I've seen before. Like the Indiana Liberty Fountain, not only does it have a bald eagle over the Stars and Stripes but it's state-specific patriotism! (That makes it even more American, it's unbelievable how much emphasis they put on their specific states.) Oh, and it even has a quote from Thomas Paine on the side!

What's even more disturbing, though, is the existence of the Dixie Dynamite firecrackers! I've never understood the whole Southern pride thing here, but the reason this is crazy is because we're in a Northern state here. Racist overtones aside, it still makes no sense to me that they would sell such a South-specific item north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Meh, let's not think about it too much (after all, it's not my holiday). I'll just concentrate on blowing the things up!

Des Langues Romanes

I've been doing this French reading class for a week now. It's more work than I anticipated; we only have 50 min of class each day but we have to translate several pages for each class. This takes me quite a while because I have to look up every second word in the dictionary. (My ability to order a cup of coffee or an ice-cream really isn't doing me much good!) It doesn't help that the texts we have to traslate are really pretty boring.

As I mentioned before, I've found that my understanding of French goes through some convoluted route inside my brain via Italian. This became particularly apparent in Montreal when I was speaking and, when I ran out of French words, I would finish my sentences in Italian. (Actually, I did get away with it occasionally. I was able to guess French words by saying Italian words with a French emphasis. It worked more than half the time, I had my teachers convinced that I knew tons of French words.) Anyway, it occurred to me that if I got too good at French (not such a big worry at the moment) that it might displace all that Italian I spent years studying but had neglected over the last little while.

Then I discovered that tons of people all around the world use Skype to improve their language skills. (That speech bubble thinga-magigga in the side-bar shows my current Skype status, in case you were wondering.) It's really easy, either you can post your details on a language exchange website or, easier still, search for people in Skype Me mode and start talking to them straight away. I've already found a few people to practise Italian with; it's going ok, I manage to make myself understood with a little help from online dictionaries. (We just type. I tried the mic once and it stressed me out too much being on the spot like that.) The plan is that after a few more weeks, if my French is good enough, I'll look for a Frenchie to practise with. But maybe I'll have to find one who wants to learn English so they can write to me in French while I reply in English; that might just work.

Back in Bloomington

My three week study-vacation in Montreal is now over; I'm back in Bloomington, Indiana.

I'm a little sad to have left so soon. I was just getting to know the other students at the school and could have spend many more days exploring Montreal's museums, galleries and bars!

Summer Semester II starts Friday and I am enrolled in the second part of French for Reading. I just hope I've learnt enough grammar to keep up with the students who did the first part during Summer I. I'm sure the sorts of words I know are very different from what they've been learning -- I can tell you the names of all the rooms in a house and various foods (mmm, crême glacée!) but I doubt that will be much use to me for reading philosophy!

Parc Jean Drapeau

Today after school I went for a walk in Jean Drapeau Park. It's on a little island between Montréal and the mainland but there's a Metro station there so it was very easy for me to get there.

Apart from the usual park things there's also a giant buckyball. I saw this from the bus on the way to Quebec city, apparently it was built for the 1967 World Expo but now it's home to a special water purification facility. There's a Museum of Water even! (I thought of Baden when I saw that but that still wasn't enough to make me pay money to hear about water purification. But, come to think of it, the tap water here in Montreal tastes much better than the terrible stuff we get in Bloomington.)

It's a surprisingly good park considering it's so close to the city but still not as nice as Sydney's Botanic Gardens. One thing they have that we don't get so much in Sydney, though, is groundhogs (aka woodchucks). Today was the first time I'd seen one so I took a photo. They're a bit timid and run into their burrows when you try to take their photo but this one poked his head back out.

Giving the Shirt off Your Back

It was pretty obvious from the start that my host family here in Montreal are very nice people but I've just been struck by Odette's increadible kindness.

They're always excellent hosts, offering me more food and engaging me in conversation. (Odette particularly likes to talk about the other students she's hosted.) I felt reassured when she told me how stingy some of the other families were; I figured that meant she wasn't like that and I was certainly right.

It was particularly convenient when I was telling them about my plans for Quebec city that Odette offered to let Edwina stay here in Montreal a night to shorten her travelling time. Alan mentioned something about an air mattress and I thought that sounded pretty good. So it all fell into place when Ed said that she wanted to see a show that was playing in Montreal on Sunday night.

When we got back from Quebec Alan picked us up from the Metro station and Odette dropped us off again so we'd make the show on time. We were already quite grateful for them being so accommodating but when we got back to the house and everyone was asleep, we found not an air matress but their master bedroom all made up for the guest! I felt a little guilty that they'd put themselves out for someone who was my guest, whom they didn't know from a bar of soap.

La Dolce Vita

Being in Montreal for a week (and not just being a tourist but living and commuting across the city) has reminded me of what it's like to live in a cosmopolitan city. I quickly noticed the better quality of coffee and the presence of more trendy items in the cafes (I've never seen a friand in Indiana). Then I stumbled across an enormous concatenation of shopping malls, partly underground (they call it la ville souterraine). It reminded me a lot of the QVB because I couldn't afford to buy much in its very stylish boutiques andbut, more importantly, there's plenty of fancy gelato.

Bloomington is a lovely little town and certainly not a cultural backwater (the university helps a lot, especially the music department). But there's something about the way a small town deals with cultures that's a little different. The only example I can give is when the department secretary asked me if I like "ethnic food" rather than any specific type. I get the impression that having international students just passing through means that their cultures remain foreign to the locals.

Anyway, the thing that most made me feel like I was in a happening place was a musical act I saw Sunday night. Ed and I had just returned from Quebec and went straight out to see one of her favourite singers, Imogen Heap, at a smoky little cabaret in a trendy quarter on the east side of town. It was the most avante garde act I've ever seen and I loved it! The opening act was a cellist who was recording live loops of herself to play over the top of to create a really fantastic sound. Then Imogen Heap came on and recorded loops of herself singing and using various synthesised instruments to create a very rich and interesting sound. But I knew that this was a special city when all the Montrealers remembered their favourite son and called out for Heap's version of "Hallelujah" for the encore.

La Ville de Quebec

I've had a huge weekend!

Every Friday we get off school early (11.30). So after class I met up with an Australian friend, Edwina, who had been studying in Kingston, Ontario for the past year. After a few hours of sightseeing in Montreal we caught a coach up to Quebec city.

We arrived a little after 9 pm, not knowing where exactly our hostel was (somewhere in the old city) but a terrifically helpful busdriver radioed to get us directions. (I later discovered that I had the address all along and a map with the hostel marked in a guide book in my suitcase! Sigh!) The Auberge de la Pais is a very nice little hippie hostel in Vieux Quebec. I was impressed that we got a free breakfast included for $20/night! There are no locks on the doors but I took a couple of bag locks and there were no problems at all.

The next day we walked all around the old city. Apart from the souvenir shops ranging from beautiful to tacky there's art galleries and a whole street filled with original artworks being sold from stalls (some of it really very good). Then there's the Chateau and the fantasic view over the St Lawrence River. There's also some terrific restaurants but as we walked past the menus on display I realised that the higher up the hill the higher the prices!

On the way back to Montreal I was very happy to be sitting on a bus for three hours just because it gave my feet a break after so much walking and hill climbing.

Je Parle Français

I had my first class at the language school today. The mother of my host family drove me into town and pointed out the train stations (a subway that they call the "Metro") and bus stops I needed to know to get home. The trip back was very easy, 5 min on the Metro and 30 min on the bus. Only about 200 m or so to walk.

I was prepared for negotiating a big foreign city but was quite surprised when the teacher started talking in French to our absolute beginners class. Not one word of English, she just kept on explaining in French and miming until we claimed to understand. It's really not easy to understand when a French word is defined in terms of other French words! Not really knowing what's being asked of me is the worst bit. Once I get enough French to follow the instructions I'll be a good student.

I did get by. The podcast lessons I'd been listening to helped a little, especially with the pronunciation. But the words themselves I'm understanding via Italian. (I only really have a smattering of Italian but compared to my French I feel like Luigi Pirandello.)

Compared to the teachers, other Montréalers are really very good with English. Getting a taxi from the airport yesterday was no problem. I asked the driver, "Parlez-vous anglais?" and he looked at me as though that were a condescending question. So I figured I could just speak to everyone in English. My first purchase went fine but he was already speaking English with the guy in front of me. But I think I may have annoyed another shopkeeper. I spoke to her in English and she replied in French -- just the price, I understood -- but when I gave her too much money she said, in French, "No, I said..." She didn't realise that my problem was actually with the Canadian coins! I will try to say as much as I can in French when talking to strangers from now on.

I also saw my first snow-mobile today. Just in a showroom but it's still a very Canadian thing and quite foreign to me. I saw my first beret yesterday on the plane before we even got to Quebec. (Not the first time I've seen one, but the first time I've seen someone wearing a beret non-ironically!)

Montréal

I'm now in Montréal! I had to wake up at 5 am (sic.) to get the 6.40 airport shuttle to be able to make my 10.30 flight. Stopped in Toronto for a couple of hours. The next flight was delayed for a little while to fix a cargo-bay door but I arrived at Montréal at 4 pm.

I'm staying with a French-speaking host family. Actually, he's a Scot who's been living in Canada for decades but she's a Quebecois. There's plenty of English spoken in this house so I'm feeling pretty comfortable.

Today's a public holiday in Canada, Victoria Day; it's basically the Queen's Birthday long-weekend. But here in Quebec, where they're not so keen on the British monarchy, they call it National Patriots' Day, a celebration of a famous rebellion against British rule!

Tomorrow my first day at GEOS Language School in downtown Montréal.

Tipping

I've done a little research for my trip to Montreal to try to find out the local customs. It seems they have tipping, just like the USA. (Except in the US there's a little more discretion ie 10-20% is recommended whereas in Quebec, because the tax is 14.5%, everyone equals the tax, I'm told.) It reminded me of just how unnatural I find it to give extra money on top of the charge. Of course I do it, but it's a matter of When in Rome. Most of the time it's not hard to remember but the other day I ate at a restaurant where we had to pay up at the counter, only after I paid did I realise that the tip was meant to be left on the table. (I went back to the table and left one.)

It's this fact that you're paying the waiter, separately from paying the establishment made me wonder if it's the process of having to evaluate the service that makes it feel weird to me, or just the fact that it's cash being thrown around none too discreetly. I think it's both. You don't need to be a militant unionist to feel that wages should be negotiated between the employee and employer, without the customer being involved. (Government regulation of minimum wages is different, because they're already involved with taxation etc. But I have heard that in the USA, waitstaff are not entitled to minimum wage because tipping is so entrenched!)

But I've also come to realise that, apart from this argument against it, I do have a cultural prejudice against filthy lucre. I assume it's a Britishism that Australians don't traditionally give cash as gifts. I know this is changing, and I suspect it's got something to do with immigration from Mediterranean countries (Asian cultures don't have a problem with cash either, especially with Chinese New Year, but their influence on Australian culture has come far later). I know I'm slightly more etiquette concious than other people my age but I don't think this is a rule-based objection, I just find it unseemly.

The thing that I find surprising is when at weddings Anglo-Celtic couples decide that they'd prefer cash and explicitly ask for it! A few years ago my friend Sara got married and sent with the invitation a little poem asking for cash. I got this mental picture of her leaving the reception in a wedding dress but, instead of a veil, wearing a bank-robber's mask and carrying sacks marked with dollar-signs! So that's what I gave her, a big sack of 20c coins marked with dollar signs!

Addendum 2006/6/8:
I accidentally offended a waitress last night.

I was out with friends from school and after dinner we went to a little cafe for dessert. (The strawberry cheesecake was excellent!) When the bill came I put down a note that was just over what I owed and then, instead of carefully equalling the tax, I put a bunch of coins on top that would have been a decent tip. As we were leaving the waitress plucked out all the pennies and handed them back to me saying, "I don't need these"!! I was too taken aback to say anything at all.

I remembered that, in the US at least, one can insult a waitress by leaving a tip of exactly two cents but I'd left more than that. Could it be the mere presence of copper coins that someone would find insulting? Sounds petty, as though they're not deemed legal tender! After a while I remembered when my family was in San Francisco back in '92 and my sister was giving change to a bum and he did the exact same thing as this Montreal waitress. (Thereby refuting the old adage!)

I felt really bad about it at first when I thought that I'd committed some sort of faux pas but the money was legal tender so they have no right to object. And, most importantly, I'm under no obligation to give them anything. There's no pleasing some people!

Fireworks

At the supermarket the other day I noticed fireworks for sale! (In a supermarket! It's always surprising the things they sell in supermarkets here.) I haven't bought any yet but I am on summer vacation and have a little time on my hands. If I can't find an excuse before then, I'm sure explosions will help get me into the spirit come the Fourth of July.

I also noticed that they sell chewing tobacco. As if smoking the stuff wasn't disgusting enough! That's one American custom I won't be embracing.

Finished!

I just submitted my last paper for this semester!

That's two semesters over. Now for a relatively relaxing summer break. (I'll be keeping occupied with a few bits an pieces but nothing to get too stressed about.)

Exam Season

I just got out of my Oral Exam.

Despite reassurances that they never fail anyone I went in there with the small worry that I might be the first that they do kick out of the program. A more likely result was that I would do badly and have to spend my summer writing a twenty-page paper on some question I'd answered poorly. I resigned myself to this when my advisor, Jordi, explained that it is only to make sure that all the students have learnt what they need to know.

I was not too surprised by Jordi's questions, they could have been much worse! Jim's were hard to answer just because they were so vague. He didn't mention the specific books much, just asking about the history of science as a discipline!

After they grilled me for half an hour on each of the three core class I took this year, they sent me out of the room so they could confer. Then they came out to tell me that I passed! They were happy with my performance and I don't have to write the extra paper.

Now I just have to get working on the two papers I do have to write for classes (due Thursday and Friday). I can't celebrate 'til Saturday but I will be celebrating.

Holi

Just got home after a weird Good Friday. Tonight I went to a Hindu festival called Holi. There was the usual funny dancing but the main activity is a type of colour-fight. That is, throwing handfulls of powdered pigment at each other! Everyone ends up with patches of bright blue and green and purple and red all over them. I've washed it all off now but my skin is still a little stained in places.

There's no Canada like French Canada, it's the best Canada of them all!

One of the requirements for my PhD is reading knowledge of at least one foreign language. Unfortunately, for my smattering of Italian to count I'd have to demonstrate it's relevance to my dissertation, which I can't. So I've decided to learn French, which is automatically approved. But the on campus courses that I could take over summer only teach reading. So I've enrolled in a language school in Montreal for three weeks of intensive French lessons. (Then back to Bloomington for the second half of those reading lessons.) I've booked my flight and just got my travel documents today.

I'll be boarding with a French-speaking family, which should be interesting seeing as I'm an absolute beginner. But I've bought a French dictionary and have started labelling things in my apartment, just to learn a few nouns before I start with the actual grammar. As of 2001, of 3,380,640 Montréalers, 1,283,145 spoke French only, only 254,765 spoke English only and 1,792,750 spoke both. Almost half of the French speakers don't speak English! But all the travel sites say that the shopkeepers all speak English so I'm not too worried. Still, having found myself a new confort-zone here in Bloomington it will come as a bit of a shock to be out of it once again.

Tax

I just finished preparing my tax return. (Actually, two! One for Federal, another for State and County taxes.) I discovered that the tax treaty Australia has with USA is worth nothing to me as a student, teacher or researcher. But after spending over $300 on books I'll be getting some back.

Where are you from?

I noticed early on that Americans can't tell the difference between English and Australian accents. Not unless you're doing a Steve Irwin impersonation can they place you as Australian. When I first got here I was a little self-conscious about my accent, mainly because everyone kept asking, "Where are you from?" But then I realised that Yanks use the same locution when asking each other what part of America they're from.

Yesterday I was asked one of those uncomfortable questions. You know the ones where everyone knows that the answer will be offensive to some, so no one asks. One of the guys in the department asked me, "The English accent sounds really sophisticated to us. How does the American accent sound to you?" Now, I try to take seriously my position as a guest in this country, I've already had to bite my tongue when they've been insulting the South. So, instead of a direct answer I told him about how I'm trying to learn to distinguish the different accents. Eventually I summed it up as, "The British speak with their lips; Australians speak with their throats (i.e. gargle words); and Americans speak with their noses." Everyone seemed satisfied with that.

But longer I'm here the more I see the cultural similarities we share with the British and not the Americans that go beyond accent or dialect or units of measurement. It's not just the tea-drinking (although the coffee here is so bad that my tea intake has gone up dramatically!). It's the food and the humour and so many little things. The wierd comments come when they have a little knowledge of Australia (a dangerous thing!). I already told you about the guy who asked me about The Boot! But a little while ago another HPS student who's spend some time at Oxford (and met a few Colonials there) asked me if I knew anything about tropical medicine! (Well, it is her area of interest.) I then realised that she sees us as Brits stranded down under; she probably expects me to walk into class wearing a pith helmet! For the record, I know nothing about tropical medicine but do try to dose myself with quinine via gin and tonics during monsoon season (which has just started, so that's what I'm doing right now!).