It’s really hot in Australia. That’s what I think science majors call a hypothesis, but then again I was never very good at science and relied solely on the study guides of left-brained friends who knew the difference between mitosis and meiosis by heart. (To me, they both just sound like fun pink drinks that come with those tiny umbrellas and way too much rum).
To give you a play-by play of the past two weeks we’ve been here, I’ll list the number of shirts I’ve seen sweat stains on: 238. Seventeen Lewis & Clark students times the fourteen days that we’ve been here equals exactly 238, give or take the change of clothes about every hour or so because a cotton T-shirt is too hot for Australia.
But “no worries” (a common response to inquiries here)—if you just place such sweated-out items on a clothesline they dry up in nearly ten minutes. A clothesline, like the kind that Aunty May used before the big tornado hit. Upon practicing the use of such clothesline, I can’t really complain. My clothes are wrinkle-free and smell like the actual summer breeze, not just the kind you buy in aisle 5 and stuff into the dryer along you’re your unmentionables. Take my word for it—if the weather is right, hang up your clothes and watch the magic unfold. (See what I did there?)
I understand that someone back home might say, “What is this girl complaining about? She’s on a study trip in Australia for Christ sakes!” and to that aunt/uncle/second cousin/helicopter parent/friend guilted into actually reading this, I say: you’re right. Completely totally and unbelievably right because Australia is unusual, gorgeous and constantly entertaining. There hasn’t been a day yet where I’ve looked at something that this beautiful country (and continent- insert another “wow” here) hasn’t produced, and thought “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
Do you know WHY this giant land mass is so special? (This is where I’m involving something I learned in fifth grade called “foreshadowing”- thanks Mr. Ramirez!) HEAT. Yes! Good for you—you guessed it (and it probably wasn’t at all because I gave a huge hint or anything of that sort). Yes, heat and heat and more heat is one of the ginormous factors that has caused salt lakes to become so hostile that lizards have to walk on their heels so they don’t burn their toes. It has caused Australian residents to wear loose clothes and casually wipe sweat away while we American tourists scuttle from the shade of one tree to another.
Fog and rain are uncommon in Sydney. The weather is a novelty for me. Portland loves nothing more than to entertain damp dark winter clouds.
We have seen a few examples of white, gray and black, which, as one of our amazing Aboriginal guides has taught us, are sacred colors to the Aboriginal people, and signal coming storms. Right now as I sit on the roof of Arundel house, a storm has come, dampening Sydney and causing residents to unveil their umbrellas (“the horror!” says any Portlander), and the cockatiels to hide away in surrounding gum trees.
While visiting the Blue Mountains, we learned that their somber tone comes the oil inside Eucalyptus trees, which evaporates and forms a fog that snakes through the cliffs and upwards into the noses of children that peek their heads over the rails and look down about 300 feet into nothing but gum trees and thick air. Luckily, we experienced this on the day of our departure, following a hike that left me in deep loathing for my parents who allowed me to quit soccer and sports altogether after the sixth grade. But as rain drops down deep into the earth, it replenishes the thirst of surrounding plants whose specially formulated leaves have pointed tips so to keep the deep drip of Aussie rain on its path towards hungry roots.
If you take anything away from this blog post, take this: Australia is one of the most hostile environments known to human beings. If the scorching temperatures don’t get you, dehydration will. If you were smart enough to bring a large canteen full of precious water, then there are hundreds upon hundreds of stingers, biters, eaters, swallowers (you name it) waiting for you.
But forget all that because there’s no point to traveling and no point to being alive at all without at least a little bit of danger, surrounded by immeasurable beauty.