Twice Mice » Australia

Water Restrictions

Lydia — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 19:26:52 +0000

As an Australian, I was shocked to come across the above scene in my local neighbourhood. Beautiful pure fresh drinking water was being used simply to hose away some rubbish from the Farmers’ Markets. I wonder what my friends back in Australia, some of them having to rely solely on tank water, would think of such an allocation of resources.

During some summer months, Stage 4 water restrictions have been imposed in many Australian cities including Chiltern, Bendigo, Albury, and even Melbourne. These restrictions include:

Residential and Commercial Gardens and Lawns

All outside watering is banned. No watering at any time, by any means.

Public Gardens and Lawns

All outside watering is banned. No watering at any time, by any means.

Sporting Grounds

All outside watering is banned. No watering at any time, by any means.

Paving, concrete and other hard surfaces

Hosing banned except for construction purposes or in emergency; or for health or safety hazard.

Vehicles

A vehicle may only be washed for health and safety reasons, in which case the windows and lights must be washed and rinsed by means of a bucket, filled directly from the tap (not by hose). Commercial car washes which use water from a source other than your local water corporation reticulated water system can be used.

Residential or Commercial Pools and Spas

Cannot be filled, added to or replaced without prior written approval. Can be topped up by bucket only.

A very different world. I am glad that over here I can indulge in a long hot bath every night, rather than a quick shower with a constant eye on the two minute egg timer.

Farewell Frank

Lydia — Tue, 23 Nov 2010 20:40:06 +0000

Today, on November 23 2010, Frank Fenner passed away at the age of 95. I first met him when he was 87, still an emeritus professor at the Australian National University and routinely attending lectures and scientific meetings. He was a great inspiration.

When he was in his 20s he worked with Macfarlane Burnet at WEHI in Melbourne to understand the incubation periods of infections such as smallpox, measles and chickenpox. After a stint at the NY Rockefeller institute, he became the first Professor of Bacteriology at the newly established ANU.

He successfully introduced the lethal myxomatosis pox virus into the overwhelming feral rabbit population, thus dramatically reducing the burden on Australian native plants and animals. When some members of the public were concerned about the risk of this virus for humans, he and his colleagues publicly injected themselves with myxoma virus to demonstrate its safety. In 1977, he was elected the chairman of the WHO Global Commission for the Certification of Smallpox Eradication, and in 1980 addressed to World Health Assembly and declared that smallpox had been globally eradicated.

I have a signed copy of his book “The John Curtin School of Medical Research: the First Fifty Years, 1948-1998″ on my bookshelf, and I am grateful for the years that he and I worked as scientists together in the same building. He has left a lasting impact on all of humankind.

I miss the birds

Lydia — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 22:58:59 +0000

Another aspect of Australia that I miss is all the birdlife. Over here all we have are pigeons, crows, and a few feral parrots.

Back in Australia, I was surrounded by the most exquisite feathered creatures. I could wake to the melodious warble of a magpie or the cacophony of one hundred shrill sulphur-crested cockatoos. Walking past some bushes, I would smile at the antics of the promiscuous fairywrens, while pairs of plovers called to each other as they watched over their young. Perhaps a Kokaburra’s echo would sound from above. I would look up from my work to find two rainbow lorikeets in the tree outside, merrily nibbling of the tender shoots at the top.

One bird that I don’t miss is the Emu. Whenever we went to a nature reserve they would run up to me with their beady eyes and sharp beaks. They would stare straight into my eye, and terrorise me until I surrendered my picnic lunch. At least that is a threat that is less common over this side of the world.

I miss the stars

Lydia — Sat, 06 Nov 2010 20:32:57 +0000

People often ask me what I miss about Australia. During these dark winter nights, something I notice myself yearning for is to look up into the sky and see the Milky Way shining down upon me.

Walking through the quiet streets of Canberra, I would spend hours looking into the centre of our galaxy. It was almost impossible to comprehend that each tiny dot was a giant fiery ball of gas, and the light had traveled for tens, hundreds, millions of years to reach us. It reminded me what a small blue sphere the earth was, and often helped put the issues of the day into perspective.

With each passing season, the constellations would once again greet me like old friends returning from a long journey. Comical Orion, standing on his head while watching Sirius chase Lepus. Antares, the angry red eye of Scorpio blazing beneath a curled tail ready to strike. And always the Southern Cross, lighting the way and giving direction.

There is no wonder that only countries from the Southern Hemisphere (Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, Niue, Papua New Guinea, Samoa, and Tokelau) feature constellations on their flags. In Europe, the stars are seldom glimpsed, and when they are, it is a view out into the dark emptiness beyond our own galaxy, so unlike the brilliant splash of light of the Milky Way.

Photo from cosmic diary

Farewell Canberra

Lydia — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 11:12:31 +0000

It was bittersweet to return to Canberra after two years away. There are so many wonderful people there, and it is such a unique city – the bush capital. Small and delightful, yet with excellent institutions. Walking through the Australian National University, where I spent seven years of my life, made it all come flooding back. I was able to catch up with so many friends, and eat and laugh and drink with them and hear about how their lives have changed. It was so easy to be back – instantly I had a strong support network and knew the ins and outs of the city. My final weekend culuminated with a party at the Cookie Jar II – such a familiar and welcoming atmosphere. It broke my heart to leave them all behind again. I had one last dinner at the Pancake Parlour – home of my Pink and Purple Pancake Parlour Party for my birthday a few years back – and then turned my back on my hometown, and started by journey to Belgium.

Pancake Parlour

Holidays in Newcastle with my family

Lydia — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 21:28:30 +0000

We drove up to Newcastle for several days so that I would have a chance to see my extended family before we escaped overseas again. It was lovely to see Nana, still sprightly and vivacious and so happy to have everyone home for the holidays. I was saddened by Pop’s absence – his memory is still very much alive in our thoughts and stories, and his mischievous smile still peeked out from the photos on the mantelpiece, but he was no longer at his proper place at the head of the table.

We exchanged gifts, and food was also major theme for the day. We started the day with egg and salmon filled croissants, made mini pizzas for lunch, and capped it off with roast turkey and tofurkey. Adrian and I decorated gingerbread people in festive and delicious costumes, but I am afraid to say, they didn’t even make it 24 hours before being devoured.

Adrian and I were so pleased with our decorative abilities that we proceeded to decorated my cousin’s hair in a manner fitting the occasion, which promptly fell out after several energetic games of Tag.

My Nana mentioned to Adrian that she had always dreamt of having dinner out on the lawn in the backyard, underneath the trees. I sympathised with her that such an impossible dream would never be realised, as we had always had dinner on the verandah. Adrian, however, told her that if her dream was that easy, he would make it happen. He simply rummaged through the garage for a spare table, picked it up, washed it off, and brought everything down to the lawn. In no time at all, a festive table was decked out under the afternoon sky, and we all sat around it, listening to the clinks of wine glasses and laughs of kookaburras as the day wound to a close.

Two thousand and eight

Lydia — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 11:38:37 +0000

We welcomed in 2008 on a flight back to Seattle, unaware that it would be our last year in the USA. We both worked very hard during out post-docs in medical science, and we both made novel discoveries and uncovered some of the mysteries of the development and function of white blood cells. Adrian had his work published in some excellent journals, and I learned that the paper from my post-doc “may be suitable for publication, pending revisions” in a great journal. Adrian has been offered a professorship, and I am investigating some interesting jobs in clinical trials. We experienced the freezing winters of the North that will never make me consider Canberra to be a cold city ever again.

I attended MacWorld and witnessed Steve Jobs give his last keynote and unveil the Macbook Air to the world. We explored more of the USA in dribs and drabs – Arizona, Nevada, California, and Hawaii – as well as exploring the Ukraine and Moldova.

The biggest issue that we faced in 2008 was the decision about where we would live in 2009. At first, it was between Maynooth (Ireland), London (UK), Montreal (Canada), and Brussels (Belgium). We visited all four places, and it came down to a battle between the two bilingual cities, Montreal and Brussels, and then Brussels won due to employment and travel opportunities. We celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary in the country that was to become our new home, and Adrian will starting his own lab at the University of Leuven from February 2009.

We finished up our post-docs in Seattle in November, made huge progress towards completing our Masters of Public Health degrees, and finished up the year visiting extended family in Australia that ranged from Brisbane to Adelaide. After nearly two years outside of Australia, we are able to see our birth country with new eyes, and appreciate its charms as well as its challenges. It is a country of relative compassion and opportunity, but is also isolated and monolingual. The weather is nearly always warm with blue skies and extraordinary wild-life, but the water crisis is hitting hard and many of the main rivers no longer reach the sea.

In a few weeks we fly off to Brussels, to begin our new home in Belgium. My goals for 2009 are:
- To find a short-term furnished apartment
- To get a residency permit
- To find a job
- To start learning Flemish
- To get a work permit
- To start my job
- To start learning French
- To buy a house

I think that’s enough to keep me busy for twelve months or so. It is a bit overwhelming to be faced with so many changes, but I realise how lucky that we are to have this opportunity, so the main emotion I feel is excitement. We had a great time in North America over the past two years, and while I think we are better suited to Europe, I am very thankful for all the happy memories that we have of the United States of America.

Graduation Day

Lydia — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 22:17:36 +0000

My first day of my PhD was February, 2004. I had a long hard road ahead of me. I spent many days and long nights attempting FACS, PCR, bleeding, hybridising, giving seminars, going to lab meetings, and writing many many words about science. In January, 2007 I submitted my thesis, and left for Seattle. My thesis was then sent out to review by two anonymous reviewers. Four months later, I got their comments and responded to the issues that they had raised, and sent this back to Australia for final approval. It wasn’t until November, 2007 that I got the letter confirming that I had been awarded the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. I deferred graduation for one year, and then in December 2008, I was able to walk across stage and officially claim my diploma.

It was the first time for a while that I heard the national anthem, Advance Australia Fair. What a strange song. These days, our soil seems more brown than golden. As the university is only sixty-two years old, it has to import a lot of its pomp and ceremony from Oxford. The robes we wear, even in the heat of summer, are thick black wool, as worn hundreds of years ago in England.The silver mace, carried during the academic procession, is a twentieth-century replica of the eighteenth-century Oxford mace. The conferring process for PhD graduates is very neat, but I was nervous that I would stuff it up in front of everyone. When my name was called, I walked across the stage and kneeled in front of the Chancellor. I removed my black velvet bonnet, and inclined my head and he placed a blue silk hood over my shoulders. I replaced my bonnet, and stood up. He handed me my testamur, shook my hand, and I walked down the stairs, degree in hand.

Afterwards Fleur and I celebrated with champagne, our many years as molecular biology graduate students officially coming to an end. Adrian and I then had lunch with my parents, where they presented me with a beautiful watch to mark the occasion of my graduation. Now, when we find a home in Belgium, I can now hang a diploma on my wall that proudly proclaims that I have earned a Doctor of Philosophy from the Australian National University.

Canberra, 22 months later

Lydia — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 05:53:18 +0000

At first, Canberra felt very strange. Very Australian – a word that I would never have previously used to describe it – and so dry and sprawling. And yet, only a few days later, it feels like I have never left. Apart from accidentally hopping on the wrong bus or forgetting where the nearest ATM is, I almost feel as if Seattle never really happened. But while Canberra may have stayed stationary, all my friends have whizzed ahead. How dare they graduate, have babies, get married, buy houses, get promotions, buy pets, etc, while I have been overseas to miss out on these milestones. Everyone is so grown up now. Including me, I guess, now married with two years post-doctoral experience, and soon off to Belgium to live.

I am really enjoying my time in Canberra with Adrian by my side. Spending most of my day studying at the ANU, peppered with coffee and lunch with old friends and hearing about their many adventures. Every day warm, sunny, and full of blue sky and a gentle breeze. It is relaxing and satisfying.

Out in the bush

Lydia — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 11:34:13 +0000

This weekend we were lucky enough to be able to visit the farm of Amy, Jason, and Elka. Amy was my lab neighbour over many long years of honours and PhD, and we shared in many adversities during our time in Canberra. Now she has found her own little spot of paradise – a small close enough to commute into the city for work, but big enough for horses, cats, chickens, ducks, and recently, a beautiful baby girl called Elka.

Amy has always worked so hard, so it is no wonder that she makes running her menagerie seem effortless. Her five-month-old baby is a delight, sticking to a schedule of naps and sleeping through the night. Her horses did their best to throw her off her game by throwing a shoe as soon as the farrier had left to fix the last one, but she managed the whole thing with grace and humour.

They even found time to take us to Mount Tamborine to see the waterfalls and the shops, and on the way there we saw hang-gliders and para-gliders dive off a grassy cliff, and almost impossibly sail into the air, gradually circling up above us.

Morning Tea

Lydia — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 02:28:08 +0000

One of the customs I like about Australia is that, no matter how hectic the schedule, there is always time for Morning Tea. At 10:30, all across the nation, everyone takes a break to enjoy a cup of tea, a couple of biccies, and a quick chat. This habit was complelety absent in my US workplace. People might grab a donut and a cup of coffee on the run from one place to another, but the idea of actually taking a fifteen minute break to relax was a completely foreign concept. There wasn’t even a tearoom over there, yet over here we have boxes of complementary Lipton teabags and Arnott’s biscuits to provide constant nourishment for all the students during our tea breaks.

Image from flickr.com/photos/dragonflysky

An Australian Student Again

Lydia — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 06:34:53 +0000

How strange it is, to be back in this country after 22 months of absence. Crossing the street is difficult, as I am still looking the wrong way. And the loss of my iPhone is almost crippling, as I am no long able to bring up an instant map of my location, or able to check my email anywhere, or find out where the nearest movie theatre or when the next bus is coming. The sign and smell of the local Starbucks elicits fond memories of all my hours curled up on the couches of that Seattle-bred coffee house. I miss the friends that I have made in Seattle, their stories about the intricacies of American culture, and their interesting perspectives on national and international events.

Still, it is refreshing to be back in Australia, and in a strange way it almost feels like I have never left. Very little cognitive effort is needed to get around. The supermarkets are filled with delicious and familiar delicacies. Our cupboard is filled with Aussie ingredients. I have been eating Weetbix for breakfast and vegemite and honey sandwiches for lunch (and sometimes also for dinner). My aunt and uncle generously welcomed us back to Australia with a spectacular spread that included vegetable pasties and beetroot – both items that are impossible to source in the USA.

I am enjoying my intense Masters of Public Health blocks – not starting the day until nine o’clock is such a luxury, and the other students are friendly and enthusiastic. We completed our first joint presentation on Friday, and I am proud of how well everyone pitched in to produce such a great seminar. I now have a bunch of assignments hanging over my head, but with no more 14-hour experiments to do, I feel quite confident that they will all be completed in time.

I am savouring the luxury of speaking the same language as the locals, of understanding the etiquette and the signposts, and of being so close to friends and family. Apart from the terrible storms, the weather here is generally warm and mild, and the days are full of sunlight. These are the comforts that I will miss in Belgium.

Invitation to December 2008 Conferring of Awards Ceremony

Lydia — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 05:36:15 +0000

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You have received this email as you have been assessed by your College as eligible to graduate in the December 2008 Conferral of Awards ceremony.
Congratulations! We look forward to celebrating with you in December!

On 10 am Friday 12 December 2008, I will be walking across the stage to finally receive my Doctor of Philosophy.

Spring

Lydia — Fri, 01 Sep 2006 15:24:00 +0000

Today is the first day of spring in Australia, and it is really invigorating. I have red bottle brushes blooming outside my window, bright yellow wattle decorates the trip to work, and the university is filled with pink cherry blossoms. Sounds of magpies, kookaburras, and bell birds fill the sky, and fairy wrens and parrots flit through the bushes.

I can wear sun hats again.