Spectrums and Perspectives.

I'm twenty years old and in Hobart, Tasmania.  If you had asked me where I would be several years ago, methinks Australia would not be chief on my list of places.  Honestly, I most likely would have said Ireland, or Scotland, or maybe even Japan.  And yet, I am here.  On a parkbench in St. David's Park.  Across the street from the UTAS Conservatorium of Music.  In downtown Hobart.  On Tasmania's east coast.  Below the Australian mainland by an overnight ferry to Brisbane.  Approximately twelve thousand miles from South Carolina and thirty six hours' worth of flight.  Damn incredible.
This winter of theirs is rather docile, now that I've acclimated.  For the first few days, to be sure, I was bedecked in jeans, longsleeves, jackets, gloves, scarves, the works.  But now, I'm peachy as a clam to be out and about in thongs*, shorts and maybe a longsleeved shirt.
These people are, by and large, incredibly helpful and eager to befriend you.  Just yesterday I met this guy, Marcus, as I was taking a picture of the harbour.  He just hopped off his bike and started chatting away with me about travel, New Zealand, the Uni, America.  Then we shook hands, exchanged names and a "look me up sometime," and he disappeared into his house (which I happened to have been standing in front of).  In Charleston, if a long-haired-backpackp-and-guitar-toting-dude was taking pictures outside your house, you'd probably ignore him, mutter a flat "hi,' and shrink into your house, or quickly grin and nod your head.  Not here.  I swear, upon my return I will be  a much more congenial, curious person, open to streetside friendships.  Now, I'm not saying Charlestonians are self-centered, rude people, but we have developed a certain formula for dealing with strangers in front of our houses taking pictures, and it does not always conclude with a handshake and an invitation to hang out later.
In other news, I've been offered a job by my roomie, Andrew, driving a delivery bakery truck around at 5am.  Not sure if I can handle a backward stick (considering I can hardly handle a standard American stick), but at least Elle Davis might be able to give me some writing assignments to earn some dough.
Well, its time to hit the books and finish all of my readings for AT&T (Australian Texts & Traditions) tomorrow, not to mention finish up my Sculpture assignment.  See ya!
*thongs : flip flops