Australia vs America

Having grown up in the sunny coastal city of Sydney, I moved to the less sunny and less coastal town of Champaign in the Fall of 2009. Why did I journey to a place where I didn't know a single human being, you ask? Good question. I thought I'd get some international work experience while maybe getting out of my comfort zone. Who am I kidding: Honduras (with the highest homicide rate per capita) or Antarctica (which has, I guess, the opposite climate to Australia) - now those would have been out of my comfort zone. The friendly folks of Australia and America speak the same language (I know, I  know, that's debatable). They also fight on the same side during international conflicts, these typically being initiated by one of the two countries (I'll give you a hint, it's not Australia). But there are still some contrasts between these mighty nations. Take the food, for example. The "gourmet onion dish" displayed below was described by an anonymous food critic as a "very controversial piece". The gastronomical expert then offered the interpretation that "the placement of the onions represent (sic) the circle of life whereas the chili is a shooting star, arising from a universe of gravy". I guess food is all very subjective but one thing's for sure - there is hardly anything on that plate! Calling it a "minimalist" or "low-calorie" offering would perhaps be the greatest culinary understatement ever uttered. After all, the dish is really not much more than, well, a dish! In stark contrast, within days of arriving in the States, yours truly was introduced to the pizza of Papa Del. Let me tell you, this Papa makes One Mother of a Pizza. Go big or go home. We have a winner: AUS 0 - 1 USA

So are there any other differences between these countries? Absolutely! Australia, being an island, is home to some of the weirdest animals on Earth, these having evolved in their own isolated continent. Many of these fauna are super venomous for sure, but they are largely misunderstood creatures. For a fair comparison between AUS and USA I now present the two variants of possum/opossum native to the nations:

For those of you interested, here's a short video of my brother playing with one. Upon examining this evidence, what you'll undoubtedly realize is that Aussie possums are CUTE! The little guy pictured above, munching on some watermelon in my parents front yard, is no exception. On the other hand, his American cousin is hands down the nastiest thing I've ever seen. There's clearly no contest here: AUS 1 - 1 USA

So at one point apiece, let's call it even. At least until I can think of more things to compare. Vive la différence!

I Love the Environment (part I)

One afternoon this past Summer, I was walking home from the bus stop feeling pretty amazing. The day was warm and the birds were out, including my favorite blue heron - the unofficial groundskeeper of The Boneyard Creek in Champaign. In terms of people though, I didn't see a soul - I had the whole park to myself. Being quite the daydreamer (and egalitarian), I started thinking: how much space does a human being have on this Earth? Given that two-thirds of our planet is open ocean, and that we can't make much use of deserts, glaciers and the like, we end up having an average of two hectares (twenty-four thousand square yards) of usable land for each peep.

Let's consider the thought experiment in which we each are the sole inhabitants of our two hectares* on which we can do whatever we please. Cultivate some crops, maybe grow some mangoes (or some kiwifruit - they are really yummy too). Raise a pet giraffe. Or go all out and have a pride of lions or an ambush of tigers (or maybe even some ligers!). Run around naked. Y'know, whatever works for you. One last thing: there are walls between each person's two hectare lot. These are HIGH! Higher than giraffes can reach. Higher than the Great Glass Elevator. High enough so the atmosphere over our land stays over our land and doesn't move over to our neighbor's area. So if we are responsible for our own isolated ecosystem, if we have to breathe in only our designated air, what is the likelihood of us polluting? Probably a lot less than if we're all free to roam around as we are now. The fact of the matter is that we don't live in our own little bubble. We share this planet so we can't be selfish and ruin things for others by hurting our Earth. We're all in this together.

*Obviously this idea is very oversimplified. For example, aquatic life is very important in maintaining balance too! So we can each have about four hectares of open ocean, which, although inaccessible, allow some atmospheric regulation (e.g. from plants and bacteria performing photosynthesis).

putting it all in perspective

Twenty years ago I was not a happy chappy. But I should have been - it was Christmas and our family was grilling in the backyard of our Western Sydney home. Furthermore, I had just received the most awesome gift a boy my age could ask for - a Donatello TMNT figurine. Being a nerd, he was of course my favorite, but he was not happy at all - the mighty Ninja Turtle's staff had dropped into the fire. And as this Soundgarden music video depicts (in a somewhat creepy manner), fire is the enemy of all plastic toys: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mbBbFH9fAg. What was Donatello without his staff? Probably about the same as his Renaissance namesake would have been without his sculpting tools: less awesome. MUCH less awesome.

It's funny how we mourn over inanimate objects the same as we might mourn over more, well, important losses. I've since become less prone to this strange depression but part of me is a little deluded and still assigns 'life' to mere objects. Seriously though, it's just stuff - get over it, David! Only in the past few years have I realized how overrated materialism is. Yoga has definitely helped. The asanas are my toys and the mat my playground. And I don't think I'll ever run out of toys given that the great yogi Tirumalai Krishnamacharya witnessed Ramamohan Brahmachary perform 7000 distinct poses.

So this Black Friday ask yourself: do you really need that snazzy new smartphone with the built-in can opener and all the other gizmos?

Nurturing our Nature

An old friend of mine, one of the sweetest human beings on this earth, had just gone through a divorce. Life was unfair, I told myself. If anyone deserved to be happy it was most certainly her but she was most certainly not happy. Left with a heavy heart, she was also left with her ex-husbands surname. And she kept it - not because it was inconvenient to change back to her maiden name, but because she acknowledged her marriage had been a huge part of her life. It had contributed to who she was - an idea that I pondered briefly on. But the thought escaped my mind, until it once again manifested itself this January, while reading a book (quite the mathematician as a child, I never had a penchant for reading - this had been one of only a handful of novels I had read). I was poring over "A Long Way Down" by Nick Hornby, now my favorite book. The four protagonists meet for the first time on top of a building infamously linked to many recent suicides. While some had mulled over the idea more than others, each had decided to leap to their deaths. That is, until they met each other and began, forlorn of hope, to share their hatred of the world and their thoughts of hopelessness and regret. How had it all come to this? A line that sticks with me was uttered by JJ, an American man whose band had recently broken up. On top of this, he had just been dumped by his girlfriend and, on a whim, had decided that recent events were sufficient grounds to end it all. When telling her story to the other three she noted that "we are what's happened to us". While not a phrase that appeared deep or required me to get my dictionary out, this really made me think about how I've become who I am. Just like yoga poses each leave an impression - a samskara - on the body, our experiences leave indelible marks on our souls. Thus, while Nature may play a large role in who we are (e.g. my father is European and my mother Asian - I look somewhat like both of them), what we go through really makes us. Blessed with the most awesome of parents, my brother and I are lucky peeps. Not being one to express himself much (maybe it's a Swiss thing), one day my father nevertheless was talking to me about my brother and I and how we were very different. He said he was proud of us both. This made me excited as I had never once heard him use "proud" and "David" in the same sentence. He also noted how my brother, a handsome young man, lived vivaciously in the moment: partying, dating, motorbiking and skydiving his way to happiness. I, according to dad, was the quiet one who would live for the future. Whether it was studying for an exam or saving money (for God knows what), I would be 100% prepared. In the event of an emergency I would not only have a piggy bank full of cash under my bed but also the long division skills necessary to figure out how many days we could survive for (c.f. "Life of Pi" by Yann Martel, my second favorite book). Disaster never did strike though, but what eventually did strike me was how right my dad was. So enough about the past. And the future, well that's too difficult to predict. Just ask Patanjali, whose teachings were compiled more than two thousand years ago into the aphorisms present in the Yoga Sutras, the bases of classical yoga. If reading them seems like a challenge for your patience then simply take the first two words "atha yoga" (yoga is now) as your mantra. Be here and be now. I never have lived in the moment but I really want to see what I can do to change that. Maybe this Patanjali guy was onto something :)

N.B. The books "A Long Way Down" and "Life of Pi" will soon become movies. YAY!!!

Open your mind

I was commuting home from Sydney University one afternoon and having stepped off the train, I was greeted by glorious sunshine. On the walk home I was minding my own business as a lanky Anglo-Saxon teenage boy caught up to me, greeting me in the local vernacular: "how are you doin', mate?" Briefly surprised - I hadn't noticed him behind me - I smiled and replied "not too bad man, how 'bout you?" Five years after this little meeting, I still recall his next nine words: "Wow - I didn't know your kind could speak English!" This  guy - I kid you not - was absolutely stunned. So too was I, as you would expect. After convincing him that "my kind" could in fact have some command of the English language I mentioned something about never judging a book by its cover, to which he nodded and heartily agreed. Shortly thereafter, I took a left turn at an intersection as he continued along the road. We had parted ways but I could not for the life of me part with his comments, which reverberated in my head for quite some time. I have little doubt that he was a nice and friendly kid - but heck we're living in the twenty-first century in a first world country known for its cosmopolitan and multicultural vibes. Moreover, the suburb in which I lived was populated with thousands of Korean and Chinese immigrants. None of these, according to this kid, were capable of speaking English. My black hair, narrow brown eyes and darker complexion - characteristics of "my kind" - apparently did not allow me to communicate in the official language of my country. I guess it's fair to say that if you 'assume' things like that you really do make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.

Chickens

Some weeks ago I was faced with a dilemma. Having just returned from yoga, I noticed that one of my housemates three chickens was sitting on the garden gate, poised to escape into the wild open frontiers of Urbana. OK, maybe I exaggerate: it wasn't so much poised to escape but was rather comfortably sitting on the wooden gate. And maybe Urbana isn't the wildly dangerous place I make it out to be (I think it's pretty safe for a chicken - lots of vegetarians here!). But it certainly could have done a runner anytime it so desired. I had no idea what to do: try to shoo it back inside? throw some feed pellets inside to lure it back? I chose option three - I didn't do anything. I figured it couldn't have hated its little environment too much if it was still there. So I went out for a bit and returned at ten that evening. And there she was, still perched on the fence, unmoved. I approached it, waving my arms uncontrollably trying to scare it back inside. That had absolutely no effect on her. What would I tell my housemate if it escaped? The chicken and I eventually called a truce and I got a little closer to it. Surely it'll fly back in. No such luck. I ended up standing there petting the cute little clucker for what seemed like half an hour. The ducks (oh yeah, we have ducks too! they get along with the chickens...most of the time at least) just looked on, confused expressions on their faces. Let me tell you this chicken was REALLY chillaxing! It didn't seem fazed at all. This has led me to believe that maybe chickens do yoga when humans aren't watching. I wouldn't be surprised, although I don't know if any chicken pose exists (there is, of course, crow pose, crane pose, peacock pose, eagle pose, swan pose, heron pose, duck pose, etc.). Eventually, I did throw some food into the garden and the chicken went back. But not before it made my day by hanging out with me for a bit :) Man I love chickens!