It’s all finished. My bags are packed, I’m ready to go... Ok, enough of that. My room is empty though and to say it feels strange would be an understatement. Saying goodbye is never easy and that’s why I think it’s easier to say, “Let’s grab a drink in the pub later!” and put it off for as long as possible.

Monday night after the climb there was a going-away party across the hall. It was the last time all of us in the Parklands will be together again and it was bittersweet. My roommate left with my neighbours for Melbourne yesterday and so I said goodbye to the people I’ve spent the majority of time with in Australia. There are plenty of things I’m going to miss about this place, more than I could ever possibly write about, as well as lots of things I won’t. Studying abroad has consumed me for the past year and, as amazing as it’s been, I’m ready to move onto other things. I’ve got heaps of adventures to look forward to, as well as many mundane things to do in between. I’ll have my degrees in marketing and political science in a year and a half and, after I graduate, the sky’s the limit. I plan to move north, perhaps to Hoboken, Manhattan, or even Brooklyn, and work in New York City. Right now, I’m looking to find a summer marketing internship in the city and get settled back into life at home with my sanity intact.

I watched Munich for the second time last night and, I don’t know what is, but I am very good at finding themes in music, movies, books, wherever, and relating them to things that are going on in my life. I think everyone’s experienced this at one point or another: you break up with your girlfriend and suddenly every song you hear reminds you of her. That’s how this movie was for me last night. It raised a lot of good points about loyalty to your country, your home, and your family. Now, it would be easy to call these things clichéd, to say that they are so vague that it would be impossible not to identify with them. That may be true but, as it becomes tougher to find things left for me to add to my Aussie to-do list, it’s as clear to me as ever that it’s finally time to go home.

As for the next ten days or so, I naturally packed as much stuff in as good. Should you be in this part of the world between now and December 10th, you’ll probably see me at the Rocks tonight and touring the Jewish Museum and Sydney’s Great Synagogue with some of my neighbours tomorrow. Some of the advisors in the Macquarie International office asked me to meet them for dinner tomorrow night and then, well, that’s about it. Friday, I’m flying to Auckland where I’ll begin a nine-day tour of New Zealand’s North Island. Originally, I was supposed to stay in Sydney until the tenth but the airline’s offer to stop in Auckland on my way back east was too good to pass up. You only live once, right?

I called an office in New York City at the crack of dawn this morning in order to follow up on my resume and, I don’t know if it was because I’ve been out of the country so long or what, but the woman who answered the phone had the strongest Noo Yawk accent I think I’ve ever heard. (Yes, even stronger than my dad’s.) I’m going to miss the Aussie accent. I’m going to miss Australian hospitality, being able to get on a city bus and strike up a conversation with the first person I see. I’ll miss Aussies who have never been to New Jersey complaining about the air quality in Sydney and the poor temperament of Sydneysiders. I’ll miss the lessons I keep happening to come across that remind me quality of life is relative and, despite all other things, absolutely what you make of it.

I’m also scared. I know I should stop harping on this but I believe the transition back to life in the states is going to be more difficult for me than it would be for most. I’ve already asked for extra patience from those I’m close with at home and those that know me well know why I’ll need it. I could sit here for hours and ruminate about all the things I should or could write about in what will most likely be my last entry from Sydney. I’m not going to do that, though. I’m going to leave my desk right now with the satisfaction I’ve gained from writing all that I have and being able to deliver it to so many.

Thanks for reading!

Jason

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Monday. It started like any other day. My friend John called at the ungodly hour of 11:30, came over, and left me no choice but to drag myself out of bed and reheat some leftover schnitzel and mash from Sunday for breakfast. Actually, the food was my call and yes, I know breaded chicken is not necessarily the best thing to eat first thing in the morning. I had enjoyed it the day before at a friend’s house and I was just that excited to finish it off.

In addition, I finally found a bagel in Sydney that I would say rivals New Jersey quality. This one may have even been better, since it came straight out of a kosher bakery in Bondi, Australia’s answer to Brooklyn being so far away. Monday night, though, is what I really want to write about. When I finally got around to surfing in Manly a couple of weeks ago, I truly believed that this would be the last item on my Australia to-do list I’d get to eliminate. Walking by and driving over the Sydney Harbour Bridge as many times as I have this semester, I considered endlessly the prospect of climbing out but just could not decide if it was worth it. It wasn’t about my fear of heights, although that certainly was a factor. I simply didn’t know if I could stand to part with so much money for a single activity.

As the reality of leaving Australia possibly forever came closer, I had a revelation. Screw it, I said, time and experience are more valuable than money! When will I have the opportunity again to wear a suit that looks like it came off the Starship Enterprise and scale one of the world’s greatest landmarks? Stepping into the BridgeClimb office at the foot of this marvel of relatively modern engineering, I was in awe of sheer size of the bridge and that I would soon find myself at the top of it. I wish I knew who discovered it was possible to not only make a lot of money by charging tourists to physically climb the 400 or so feet above the Bradfield Highway but to also sell photos at sixteen dollars pop in the name of safety. I’m in awe of this person, too.

The entire experience was spectacular. It took about an hour to suit up with our harnesses, gear, radios, warm clothing, and other gear we needed to make the trip. They were even kind enough to throw in another first for me: a Breathalyzer test. These people seriously did not take any chances. The beginning of the climb was through an intricate maze of rafters and beams under the main platform. Our guide explained the history of its construction and how, along with the Opera House, Sydney has rapidly grown to become one of the world’s most beautiful and cosmopolitan cities. We made it to the top after about an hour or so of walking and, well, I wish they would have let us take our own photos. Half expecting to find a gift shop and a café, the view of Sydney at night was, well, I’m not a good enough writer to adequately describe it. The crisp, cool air and the colours of the magnificent skyline made my moment above the city unforgettable. Looking out over the Opera House, I could see what was left of the chaos that was the Australian Idol finale the night before. I felt like I was on top of the entire country and, seeing as that about a fifth of Australia’s population lives in Sydney, I wasn’t far off.

We rested at the bridge’s pinnacle for about fifteen minutes. I forced myself to relax, to take deep breaths, and to absorb as much of everything as I could. There was a surreal silence to being so far above Sydney and I felt as if I needed to convince myself I was actually there. Looking at the Opera House, even after over living here for over four months, still strikes me with this sense of delusion. Why, with my feet planted firmly on Australian ground, does it seem like I’ll wake up at home and all of this will have been a dream? I’m not just talking about the climb, of course, but this entire experience.

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The show must go on! At least that's what I've been told and I was very excited to hear this morning that it now applies to JYA. The show will continue for an extra episode after all of us (well minus the few are abroad for a year) are back in the states next month. I also received word from the network that those of us going home over the next couple of weeks are going to be interviewed about our experiences traveling and making the show on MSNBC. I'm so overwhelmed right now that I don't think I can concentrate on studying Jimmy Carter's foreign policy toward Iran in the late 1970s! (Not like I needed the added distraction, anyway.)

Naturally, this news brought up some mixed feelings for me. What would good news be without a little Jewish guilt, right? I have to ask now if any of you have been turned off by reading about my fantastic experiences. Perhaps this is the wrong audience for me to post such a question since you never would have found your way to my blog if you weren't interested. However, I love doing all of this stuff. It is, for me, the ultimate excitement and, like I've said countless times before, I am both my proud of my work and extremely grateful for the opportunities I've received that helped make it all happen. Maybe I'm naive but I believe a huge part of the excitement is being able to share it with friends and people that are close to me. I don't want to hear that people are jealous or think I'm bragging. That's not what I'm about. I want my friends to be as excited for me as I am for myself since I know there's nothing more dejecting than expecting enthusiasm from a friend and not getting it. I'm not talking about running around blathering about my success to everyone I encounter because, if I did that, I'd deserve the eye-rolling and fake smile most people would give upon having to pretend that they actually care. I don't know. Maybe I just need to lower my expectations a smidge and be more selective about who I let into my life...

Sigh. Comments, anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Ok, well, to top off this blog about excellent news, I heard the other day that the Wiggles, Australia's most famous boy band, graduated from Macquarie. I'm not talking about recently, I'm saying that just as I tell visitors on the Rutgers tours that Calista Flockhart and Milton Friedman are graduates of our school, Macquarie has a claim to fame and it's the Wiggles. I've also been talking to a few Aussie friends here who are interesting at studying abroad at Rutgers and, as hard as it is for me to spare the tour guide shpiel, I obviously voice my opinion in support of this unbelievably excellent idea. I'll be disappointed if I never see any of my Australian friends again after this semester and, if they were to come to New Jersey, I'd be able to play proud New York City tour guide and show my fellow New Jerseyans that not all Aussies are just like Crocodile Dundee.

Please leave me feedback on this one, guys. Especially my fellow JYA cast, I'm curious to know about the reactions you've gotten from people about the success of the show. Finally, if you want to leave a post wishing my cousin Jennifer congratulations on her pregnancy, that's cool too. I'll make sure she gets the message.

Posted by Jason at 02:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

If you’ve been keeping up with my writing, you should be well aware at this point of the list I’ve been keeping in my head of things I absolutely have to do before I leave Australia. Next week after I finish my exams, I’ll be able to cross one thing off this constantly changing list and that’s to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge. (Don’t worry. There is a company here that runs the climbs and I’ll be harnessed in the whole time. Also, my cousin Allison did it when she was here on her honeymoon and (I can say this because she knows I love her) if she can do it, I really should have nothing to worry about.

Saturday night, I saw Borat in theatres and it was just as awesome as I knew it would be. The controversy over this movie has probably been just as big here as it’s been in the states. There’s one added element to the story in Australia though and it’s the fact that Borat, otherwise known as Sacha Baron Cohen, is engaged to Isla Fisher, one of Australia’s most famous actresses. Baron Cohen, in complete 80’s style handlebar mustache and rumpled grey suit, landed in Sydney not that long ago to promote the film and even had time to surprise some unwitting nude sunbathers in Bondi Beach. (This was shown on the evening news, too. Can you believe that?)

Now, I happen to think Sacha Baron Cohen is brilliant. I think he has done an unbelievable job of revealing all of the details of American society that you would probably be hard-pressed to find a lot of people who are willing to openly share with the rest of the world. I also think it’s an enormous shame that it took a Brit to delve into the annals of our culture so deeply and I have to wonder where he found the gall (or the right, for that matter) to so openly mock two cultures while sparing his own. Actually, I probably shouldn’t say that because he has slammed certain aspects of British life as Ali G but it’s with Borat that he’s taken his astute level of observation and comic versatility to a whole new level.

Many are offended by Borat and, while I don’t agree with most of them, I can understand why. As a bumbling Kazakhstani journalist traveling across the US on a mission to meet Pamela Anderson, he openly makes fun of his so-called backwards country for no apparent reason. The fact that his “Kazakh” is actually a combination of Russian, Hebrew, Yiddish, and gibberish allowed him to film in a Romanian village where he allegedly mislead the poor Romanians he featured in the movie while convincing countless Americans he was filming a legitimate documentary for Kazakh television. Now, of course I’m in no position to judge how his crew treated the villagers and whether they paid them adequate wages or not but there is one aspect of the controversy that especially grabbed my attention and that’s the lawsuit currently being filed by the South Carolina frat boys Borat met traveling across the south in an RV.

This group of “scholars,” (Borat’s words, not mine) claim that the movie’s producers liquored them up and promised that their racist and sexist comments would never be heard by an American audience. They also allege that they were encouraged to drink to the point where they could not read the release form they legally had to sign in order for their scenes to make it into the final cut. I don’t know how much truth there is in this story either but I found it amazing that their belief that this was a European production somehow justified them saying that “minorities run the country” and that “slavery should still be legal in America.” Drunk or not, that’s just wrong.

Just like anyone who says the character promotes anti-Semitism doesn’t understand that Borat actually does the reverse, he brings all of our prejudices to the surface and shows people how ridiculous and ignorant they actually are, I think anyone protesting the movie in Australia or Kazakhstan or anywhere else for that matter is missing the point. The only issue I took with the movie was those frat guys and so, on behalf of all college students and Americans living abroad, thanks! Thank you for helping to improve our already stellar reputation overseas and giving the world another reason to laugh at us.

Posted by Jason at 02:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)