Decompression III
Trip Start
Nov 13, 2006
1
47
55
Trip End
Nov 2007
Swan Hill, Australia
Monday, May 14, 2007
For those who have lost track, let's recap here, shall we? So far, I've lost one job, found another, discovered that it was just trial, blew a whole stack of cash thinking I had an income only to wake up finding myself broke, unemployed, panicked and generally miserable.
Got it?
Good.
I don't want to crank the tragedy-o-meter any higher, however it's a safe bet to classify my headspace over last week as "severely dejected." I moped around, thinking once again that I've failed in this journey. I started getting way ahead of myself, worrying needlessly about when I return early from this trip, defanged and defeated, where would I go? Where would I live? Can it get any worse? Woe is me.
For the first time, I was forced to call home for some money. It was the most embarrassing, humbling experience. I felt like a child asking for more allowance so he can buy that shiny new bike in the Sears window. Like always, Mom came through. I can't begin to express my gratitude.
Once again, I blanketed Melbourne with my resume. Since winter is approaching, this isn't exactly the high season for the hospitality business; the job market was scarce-I was ready to apply to Hungry Jack's (the Aussie equivalent to Burger King). In addition to all this stress, I couldn't write. Every time I turned on the computer I stared at the blank screen feeling sorry for myself. Somebody should have just slapped me. In a way, that's exactly what happened.
This past weekend was Amy and Robby's engagement party in Swan Hill. I was invited, but I was feeling serious trepidation about attending. In my foolish, depressed mental state I nearly convinced myself that I wouldn't have a good time. I didn't really know anyone going. I didn't know how I was getting there. Plus it was a semi-formal party and I didn't have any clothing that remotely resembled dressy, nor did have any cash to even go thrift shopping for something.
Then it dawned on me. This isn't about me. This is about Amy and Robby: two people who have selflessly opened their doors to me out here, gone above and beyond to make me feel totally at home. They've become my adopted family in many ways. Of course I was going, plus escaping my worries in the city could be exactly what the doctor ordered.
Amy arranged a ride for me on Friday. I joined Lee, his fiancé Angela and another friend Sam. I had met these people a week earlier at Prudence, and they turned out to be the perfect reflection of Amy and Robby: generous, genuine and welcoming. We road tripped it up to Swan Hill, Robby's family home about four hours north of Melbourne.
What's a road trip without a couple silly inside jokes, right? I tried to start a new expression, a take on the famous "no worries": no vacancies, mate. Everyone in the car vowed to try to use it, I hoped that by the end of the weekend someone completely removed from the joke would casually slip in "no vacancies, mate" to a conversation. It was worth a try.
Allow me to illustrate a fundamental difference between Aussies and Canadians: during the drive Sam turned to me and asked if I had any nicknames. I rhymed off a laundry list of aliases: The Bulk, Ranger Danger, Snoop Geoff, Geoff with a G.... "Do you have any short nicknames?" Sam asked. Oh right, forgetting that it's Australia's national past time to shorten as many terms as possible, I offered the classic Geoffro. "Perfect," he smiled. When they learned I was a cook the name quickly evolved to Chefro. I was officially in with this group.
When we arrived at Swan Hill it was well into the evening, the night sky was painted with stars so clear and vivid that you could see the Milky Way-a vision I won't soon forget. We sat by the fire and drank a few beers too many. My worries melted away under the firelight and stars.
