New Zealand!

I know you are all dying to know more about the ant poem alluded to in my last missive, so I'll include at the end of this blog. But for those who would rather look at wonderful photos and hear about my day in the sun at the beach so that you can get to work immediately on your vicarious tan, I'll start there. This is what the west coast looks like, about 40 minutes from Auckland where I'm staying. Amazing to have such a wild place so close to a big city.







Continuing on up the path to the right of the photographer is a gannet colony. Below is a mum and chick, and part of the colony at the end of the little peninsula.


















Below is the beach I swam at today, seen from a distance, and then on the beach, the family (minus dad) with whom I'm staying. Clouds cleared considerably by the time we got to the beach, and the kids and I (age 8 and 11) played and played in the surf. There was a lifeguard, with flags marking a very small part of the beach where you could swim. Once in the water we realized why the area was so small - there was an incredible rip tide pulling us sideways all the time, and we were constantly being dragged out of the lifeguarded area. Still...it was great fun, even if the water was a bit cool. Isn't the black sand fabulous?!!













Up till today I've been a bit of a slug, not really doing much except talking to my friends. For some reason, jet lag or something has hit me finally as I crossed the two extra hours from Oz to NZ, and I haven't been sleeping well. But today being the first day of school holidays, we have all decided to make the best of my last week here...so let the adventures begin! Sleep or no sleep. Stayed tuned on this blog.


And now, to poetry. The ant poem is called Departmental, and is by Robert Frost. Read it 'on the surface' for a crazy view of ants, or leap into thoughts about the relationship between individuals and society, and one's place in the overall scheme of things. Either way, I think it's rather fun.

An ant on the tablecloth
Ran into a dormant moth
Of many times his size.
He showed not the least surprise.
His business wasn't with such.
He gave it scarcely a touch,
And was off on his duty run.
Yet if he encountered one
Of the hive's enquiry squad
Whose work is to find out God
And the nature of time and space,
He would put him onto the case.
Ants are a curious race;
One crossing with hurried tread
The body of one of their dead
Isn't given a moment's arrest-
Seems not even impressed.
But he no doubts report to any
With whom he crosses antennae,
And they no doubt report
To the higher up at court.
Then word goes forth in Formic:
"Death's come to Jerry McCormic,
Our selfless forager Jerry.
Will the special Janizary
Whose office it is to bury
The dead of the commissary
Go bring him home to his people.
Lay him in state on a sepal.
Wrap him for shroud in a petal.
Embalm him with ichor of nettle.
This is the word of your Queen."
And presently on the scene
Appears a solemn mortician;
And taking formal position
With feelers calmly atwiddle,
Seizes the dead by the middle,
And heaving him high in the air,
Carries him out of there.
No one stands round to stare.
It is nobody else's affair.

It couldn't be called ungentle.
But how thoroughly departmental.

a quiet day in the country

Today my cousins took me to an art gallery where there was a special exhibit of post second world war haute couture. The displays were terrific, but I think I enjoyed the photographs taken for Harpers Bazaar and Vogue the best. The lighting, the contrast of the very rich and the poorer people and surroundings, the decadence, was captured so perfectly in black and white. Some of the styles of clothing I recognized (in muted and less expensive form) from pictures of my childhood.

It has been quite restful being with my cousins, and really nice to meet family on my dad's side. My father was a bit of an 'afterthought' (or lack of thought) in his family, quite a bit younger than his other siblings. And then he fathered me when he was 47 - I'm the youngest of three. Which means all of my first cousins on his side of the family are dead now, and most of my second cousins are older than I. These folk outside Melbourne are second cousins, and there may be a once-removed involved but I forget what that means. But they are still Vindens - very much into music, and they bear the family resemblance (which I don't...but they remind me of my father), and we discover other little similarities the more we are together.  Family is good - I've had so little contact with extended family during my lifetime, growing up in Canada with almost all the relatives over in the UK.  It is great to make contact.

My cousin Peter is a prof in the forestry department at the uni, which has a branch out here in the countryside where they live.  They have 55 acres on a hillside, with an olive grove and lots of fruit trees, including many cider apples.  I'm about to sample the cider now.  In addition to olive oil and olives, they also make fantastic chocolates and marmalade.  All this while working full time.

Peter and another prof have invented a way of microwaving wood to make it dry and porous, and then 'filling' it with resin to make it durable. The entire process takes about two seconds (with a very strong microwave beam!) and the wood looks exactly like normal wood, but is 7 times more durable. They are looking for a company to get on board (no pun intended!) with them to mass produce it. It would be an incredible way to save forests.

Tomorrow I'm of to NZ, wondering what adventures await me there. I'm hoping for a more restful time there as well - Queensland was great but I was up very early every day and then it was go, go, go all day long.

By the way...I forgot to mention about my trip 'up north' to warmer climes (!) - I also saw a field of wallabies.  And I licked a lemon ant.  Repeatedly. Yes. It does taste like lemon. I was going to eat him but felt he would probably like to go home and tell his friends about his adventures.

Now, for the poetry lovers among you - do you know the origin of the following lines from a poem about ants? Well, actually, it is really about modern life, culture and identity:

Then word goes forth in Formic,

"Death's come to Jerry McCormic,

Our fearless forager Jerry."

(p.s. Formic is an acid excreted by ants, which is like a trail for other ants to follow)

am I in England? mmm...no.

Back to Melbourne now, weather is miserable -- 13C this morning, raining all day. Where am I? It is supposed to be 30-something C...I'm supposed to be lounging beside my cousins' pool! What's happening? This is what I would expect in the UK!

Probably global warming - but the rain is certainly needed here with severe drought now for several years, so I shouldn't complain. As I flew from Cairns to Melbourne I saw several lakes that were almost completely dry. But even my cousins think it should rain at night and be nice and sunny during the day.

Our outdoor activities were cancelled today because of the rain, so we spent the afternoon wine tasting in some of the many vineyards nearby. The prices here are so reasonable compared to the UK - I wish I could bring a couple of cases back with me! Alas...it is not to be.

My time in hot, steamy Queensland earlier in the week with my friend Dennis was terrific. You have already seen a picture of me preparing to snorkel -one of my favourite activities. Someone, on seeming me emerge from the ocean in years past, commented that I looked as if I had been talking to angels. That is pretty much how I feel when snorkeling - silence except for the sound of one's own breathing, and this amazing world of fish, coral, sun and water, in fantastic colour and variation that speaks to me of something that surely is not just a product of mere chance. I was in the water for hours, and could have stayed longer. I had hoped to see a shark, but they remained elusive.

I did get to go with a small group to the outer edge of the reef where few snorkellers go. The highlight of that excursion was sighting an enormous 3-foot triggerfish. I was off on my own at the time, and fortunately this one was not aggressive. I told the leader of our group about it, and she said, "I think we had best leave it alone...there has been a fatality from them." Triggerfish are building nests at this time of year, and can be quite defensive.

On our second day we headed for the rainforest of Daintree. This is an area of old growth - untouched for millions of years. A dozen species of trees are found only in Australia and are ancient primitive plants. The biodiversity is incredible - thousands of different types of trees, tens of thousands of different plants. Interesting animals also abound - we spotted a cassowary (did you know that the males raise the chicks alone, and are smaller than the females, though very vicious in defending the young?), estuary crocodile, wallabies, and a tree full of flying foxes (VERY large fruit bats).

I have been amazed at the miles and miles of sandy, empty beaches here in Australia. The water is a lovely temperature, but unfortunately there are stinging jellyfish from November until March. And when I stay stinging, I mean deadly! There is the box jellyfish (also known as Man o' War) which is large with long tentacles. Normally it will just make you very sick unless you are stung repeatedly and are far from shore and unable to make it back to safety. More deadly are a very small variety. Nets are set up in populated areas to make swimming safe, but tentacles can break off and get through the nets and are active for 24 hours. That's why I was wearing a lycra suit when I went snorkeling! No wonder the beaches are empty. And then of course there is the massive hole in the ozone layer down here which means that you can get sunburn very very quickly. Even I am using sunscreen - but still I'm beginning to look a little like Rudolph!

Another day here outside Melbourne, and then I head for New Zealand. I'll be with friends there till Boxing Day, and am looking forward to a more leisurely holiday time, when perhaps I'll be able to catch up on some sleep. But...who knows what adventures await me there!

on the move

I've seen a koala in the wild! Visited the 12 apostles! And, best of all, seen a sting ray and snorkeled my heart out at the Great Barrier Reef!!
Yes, I'm finally on holiday. Friend Dennis and I have travelled along the Great Ocean Road and seen some fantastic coastline (the apostles are huge sandstone 'islands'). Now we are in Cairns to do reef and rainforest. Internet access is very limited, so won't be writing much.
A few picture below to give you a taste...

Guest Blog

Hi -- I'm Suzanne. Penny's been staying with me for the past 4 nights.

Wouldn’t you, Penny’s community, like to know what she is REALLY up to, ‘down under’ here in Melbourne, Australia. And you thought she was hard at work, eh?! Penny, right now, is just standing around, chatting. She is on a street corner or at a tram stop, hearing the dinging of tram bells, the chatter of many different languages, smelling the aroma of good Italian coffee mingled with that of freshly cooked food from all around the world, under what has become a brilliant blue summer sky (after this morning’s chilly start). She is there with a local Aussie student inviting innocent young international students to church tonight. That’s why she has given me, a local AFES staff worker, the opportunity to tell you what she is up to these days.

The team meetings and training times she’s been a part of yesterday and today provide a reasonable excuse for not writing herself. However, if she hadn’t been playing games at the beach yesterday afternoon, bush-dancing the night away last night, sitting in a local food court snuffling her way through wasabi sauce on sushi today, hanging out on street corners soaking up the atmosphere this afternoon or standing up at the front of a grand ‘old’ church (the Aussies think it is old, anyhow) playing a part in the service tonight, then she’d have been writing herself. She thinks she is tired, but she doesn’t look any wearier than the young Aussies alongside whom she is working.


Cricket at the beach yesterday was a ‘first’ for some of the international students. One enthusiastic young Chinese student held the cricket bat over her shoulder like a baseball bat. Oops. Frisbee throwing provided an opportunity for some great snapshots – ask her to see them. The baby son of one of the local AFES staff workers provided lots of entertainment and a talking point for students, both international and local. Penny and several students tore themselves away a little early to set up the church hall for the evening’s bush dance.


As they left for the beach outing, Penny got chatting with a visiting professor from a leading university in Beijing. The professor was delighted to find someone she considered a peer – she attends the international student programmes, but despite following the egalitarian Aussie way of using her given name when speaking English, she (quite rightly) knows that she is NOT amongst equals as far as academia is concerned. Later in the evening, just before the meal of barbequed sausages and salad, Penny had the opportunity to share how she became a Christian from the front of the hall. The professor listened intently, nodding her head throughout. May Penny’s words sink deep into the professor’s heart.


Following the barbeque dinner, an Aussie worker from the church which hosts the programme gave a presentation. He then asked people to talk at tables, and Penny had the privilege of answering questions from one particularly deep thinker on topics such as the nature of eternity, why an individual's death isn’t punishment enough for sin and more… Then the bush dance began - about forty people skipped, stomped, spun and even took turns at hiding as part of a dance.

This evening there will be a final meal together with her team and some students, and the evening ‘Unichurch’ service, before she heads for the last time to her temporary ‘home’ 35km east of Melbourne, after dropping off a couple of students. She has been staying out there, in the place where evening brings a cacophony of deafening cicada music that locals don’t even notice, with this local student worker. Tomorrow she will move on to the next stage of her trip. We’ll miss her.


Thanks, IFES, for sending Penny to work with us on this student outreach following SPRTE. We’ve appreciated her quiet wisdom combined with a refreshingly crazy personality. (We’re not at all crazy down here, you must understand, least of all the writer of this ‘guest travel blog’.) We hope Penny forgets all the tiring and frustrating aspects of the past few days, and take with her only the good memories, of which there are plenty. It’s been great having her down here, and we wish her a restful and rejuvenating holiday during what is left of her adventure ‘down under’.

Time flies

For those who are wondering, since I seem to have fallen silent...yes, I have arrived in Melbourne safely. The trip was long, but the company good, and I now have two new friends. I kept my eyes peeled looking for roos, and saw hundreds, though they all seemed to bear a close resemblance to sheep or cows. A stretch of the imagination. I also saw a lot of dry, golden grass, open spaces, and gum trees, amid rolling low hills. The most spectacular site was at dusk - a large tree full of roosting white cockatoos (or cockies, as they are called here), hanging at various angles like crazed Christmas ornaments.

I must admit to being highly disappointed :) that no one has emerged with the answer to my question regarding the orgin of the phrase 'sheer plod'. For your further education - and or those not in the know, 'windhover' is another name for a kestrel:

The Windhover - For Christ our Lord

I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1844-1889, British.

Not the most 'accessible' of Hopkins' poems...but interesting themes of things hidden and revealed, and also idea that glorious things are revealed through brokeness.

Had a lovely evening last night with group of about 70 international students. They seemed to have a great time - my hostess and I left at about 10:15, with most of them showing no signs of wanting to go home! I had some great conversations during the evening - the students I talked to were so interested in learning about others, so open to people who think differently than they do, and without the huge chip on their shoulders about Christianity that so many in the West seem to have. And I find it intriguing to hear about their lives, their perspective on life here, on me, on what I believe.

It's all immensely draining, however, especially after an intense week of conference (and an intense month of work before that!) so today I am taking some time off. I was too keyed up to sleep before who knows what hour last night (or rather this morning), and I decided that going on an 'amazing race' today through Melbourne was more than I was up to. So I am writing a short blog instead.

I am sad to report that it is sunny and 30C today. I know you all hate me. And that won't improve as I tell you that tomorrow's outing is to the beach. I am really suffering for God here.

I'm off again!

This morning is the last morning of the conference. At 9am (20 minutes from now) I have to be in a building that is a good 10 minute walk away. We are assigned to a small group, and are learning together how to read the Bible in a way that allows the text to 'speak'. All week we have been looking at Romans 3:21-26. At the end of today's session we each give a 3-5 minute talk on one aspect of this passage. I have never given such a short talk, so it will be a real challenge for me! Especially since there is so much going on in those particular verses.

At 1pm I jump in a car with some people I don't yet know and drive to Melbourne. It is an 8-hour drive, so I expect I'll know them a little better by the time we arrive. From Thursday through Sunday I will be involved in Life Week - an outreach to international students. It looks like a lot of fun, but also some hard work - we'll be 'on deck' from 10am till...10pm? 11pm??

I'm starting to get really tired - the last two nights I found myself falling asleep in the 9pm talks. And this morning when I went running...well, running is not really the appropriate word. More like 'sheer plod'. Bonus points for the first person to email me to tell me which poem and poet that phrase comes from - and without the help of google!! No cheating now. Hint: he also wrote Pied Beauty, one of my favourite poems. If you are stuck, do google and read the poems too.

A little bonus this morning to lift the heart while I tried to run. I saw a man looking up into the trees, and he called me over. There, very close, was a type of cockatoo that is on the endangered species list - larger than the 'normal' white one...black with a large cream-coloured patch on its head. The man said he had never seen one before, so I felt quite privileged to have been able to join him in this moment, when I am only a visitor to this amazing country.

Well...now I must run, literally, to my small group. More later from Melbourne!