The Smirking Kookaburra

1 May
Sydney
Rainy and cool with a breeze

We leave for America tomorrow.

For the students, it's a mixed feeling. One month is probably just long enough to get a taste for the country, but not nearly enough time to get to know the people well at all. So, there are a lot of students who tell me -- with tongue firmly in cheek, of course -- that no, they will not be getting on the plane tomorrow; that I would get a big pile of (Australian) money if I would tell their loved ones that we lost them in the rainforest somewhere; they don't think their parents would mind at all if they just didn't come back. I'm pretty sure that I have no legal authority in Australia to make them get on the plane -- but I'll keep that to myself. Of course, those same students are getting tired and running out of money, so they're ready to get back home.

These days, we're pretty big on assessing outcomes for our courses. In this course, almost everyone has grown at least a little bit. We have some seasoned travelers in the group who have another country under their belt, now, but then we have someone who had never flown before in her life until this trip, and now appears to be completely infected with the travel bug. Another student tells me that I should offer this course as a 'backpackers course,' presumably meaning that we would live for a month as the backpackers do in Europe, Asia, and Australia. What a romantic life it must be -- as long as you don't have to do any sharecropping to support yourself. Others are pondering grad school or career options that might land them here for awhile.

Students who were scared of every little thing early on ate raw wichetty grubs on the camping trip, and have lived to tell the tale. Some who were certain that every shark on the reef wanted to gobble them up now want to get their dive certification and go exploring other reefs. People who look and sound different from them and their friends don't make them as nervous.

On the other hand, they know that there are things that can hurt: beautiful plants that contain silica stingers, miniscule jellyfish with enough venom to kill a person; cuddly koalas that actually have three-inch claws and a grouchy disposition. None of that freezes them, though. There is great beauty in nature, but one better have a little respect.

Everyone would like to climb Uluru. The view must be spectacular, and there are things up there very much worth seeing. There's actually a water source up at the top that is a men's sacred business site -- that water hole is the actual site of Uluru; the rock just got the name because it supports the site. The students would love to see the top. And if they had climbed it, I would have never known, but they chose not to out of respect -- the local indigenous people asked, and they listened. One of the students posted a photo on the course blog (http://ecaustralia09.blogspot.com) showing the line of tourists, marching right past the sign saying 'please don't' and marching up the hill like a lot of little ants. The students have something in their character worth having.

I will not take credit for their character traits; they own those. A course like this one allows students to begin to identify and nurture those qualities within themselves, though, and I'm gladdened when students more often than not leave this course on that path. It's one of the reasons I will offer this course as long as students will take it.

The other reason I will come back here is that I must someday take a decent photo of a kookaburra. I'll close this year's journal with my pathetic attempt this year. What follows is written in the form of a Zork text adventure. It is an account of my encounter with the king of the bush at the apartments on Magnetic Island.

---
CHARLIE VS. THE SMIRKING KOOKABURRA.
> walk west
You begin walking toward the swimming pool.

> look around
The pool water is inviting.

> lean on the fence
As you begin to lean on the fence, you notice that just a few feet away from you is a kookaburra! It is gazing at you expectantly.

> photograph kookaburra
You cannot take a picture without a camera.

> get camera
There is no camera here!
The kookaburra grooms his feathers, then looks at you expectantly.

> take camera out of bag.
You're wearing the bag.

> take off bag
You place the bag on the ground.

> get camera
There is no camera here!
The kookaburra appears to be restless.

> open bag
You carefully open the bag.
The bag contains:
a water bottle
sunblock
a notepad
a pen
a camera

> take camera
You are now holding the camera.
The kookaburra looks at you expectantly.

> photograph kookaburra
The camera is switched off.
The kookaburra looks amused.

> turn camera on
You flip the switch on the camera.
The camera begins its boot up sequence.

> photograph kookaburra
The camera is not ready.
The kookaburra snorts in disgust and flies away, laughing madly as it goes.

---

Well, maybe next year.