Togatus Issue #2 2011

Togatus.

May 2011 FREE! Andrew Wilkie . North of Creek Road . Vulture Funds Tim & Jean . Architecture in Helsinki 1

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Published by the State Council on behalf of the Tasmania University Union Inc. (hf. “the publishers”).

The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of Togatus staff or the publishers. The copyright in each piece of work remains with the contributor; however, the publishers reserve the right to reproduce material on the Togatus website (www.togatus.com.au).

The copyright in this magazine remains with the publishers.

Editor:

Alexandra Gibson editor.togatus@utas.edu.au

Sub–editor:

Jessica Lyndon, Anita Whittle

Design Editor: Sam Lyne

Design and Layout:

Ami Cason, Jacky Ho, Sam Lyne, Jemima Phelps, Eloise Warren

Cover:

Trent Binning

Advertising:

Please contact editor.togatus@utas.edu.au

Contributors:

Tahlea Aualiitia, Trent Binning, Fabian Brimfield, Bec Chirichiello, Sophie Clark, Kate Elphinstone, Jessica Hancock, Max Ireland, Ella Kearney, Hannah McConnell, Bourne Milano, Caitlin Richardson, Michael Voss, Anita Whittle.

Printed on Impress Gloss (FSC accredited, ECF [Chlorine Free] and PH Neutral) by GEON. Togatus PO Box 5055 Sandy Bay, Tas 7006 Email: editor.togatus@utas.edu.au

www.togatus.com.au Follow us: Twitter: http://twitter.com/TogatusMagazine Facebook: facebook.com/togatus.mag Togatus welcomes all contributions. Please email your work or ideas to editor.togatus@utas.edu.au.

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Togatus is published quarterly.

3 Photo by Trent Binning

FROM THE EDITOR Hello Tog Readers!

Welcome back for Issue two of 2011. This issue we’re sticking it to the man. In the words of the wise and wonderful Empire Records employee Lucas, “Damn the man!” For all you lone wolves out there, who stood apart from the pack, this issue is for you. And on that note, who better to lead us into a sea of postmodern rebellion than 19–year–old Australian model Andrej Pejic.

The Australian Serbian model is making a killing in the fashion industry as a male and female model. If this blows your mind, head to Bourne Milano’s breakdown of fashion androgyny, from freelovin’ long haired hippies to metro–sexuals. Continuing the fashion theme, Sophie Clark has delved into the world of fashion blogging. She speaks with some of the leading international fashion bloggers about where they belong and how the monarchs of fashion journalism are responding to them.

These days, you’ll be hard pressed to find a politician whose behaviour and actions aren’t dictated entirely by a “party line”. So what happens when you don’t have a party, and suddenly, find yourself influencing the makeup of the Federal Government? Can you still maintain independence and stand by the statements you made that got you into that position? This issue, we dedicate our profile piece to Independent Federal Member for Denison, Andrew Wilkie.

the introductory pages of Tog, to a body of work called North of Creek Road, created especially for Togatus. Trent spent four of his weekends walking around the northern suburbs of Hobart with his camera, trying to capture a picture of everyday life. We’ve structured these images so that you can carefully take them out of the magazine to keep. Thanks Trent!

Other than that, we have interviews with Architecture in Helsinki, Tim & Jean and Tassie band The Colemans — as well as features on the state of the Tasmania University Union and a serious guide for travelling students.

Make sure you keep checking in at www.togatus.com. au. Recently we’ve had interviews with Gypsy & the Cat, The Holidays, Xavier Rudd, Adalita, Blue King Brown, The Aston Shuffle, The Potbelleez and more, plus film reviews, news and blogs. If you befriend Togatus Mag on Facebook or Twitter, we’ll keep you up–to–date with everything uploaded to the website!

Thanks for all the Togatus related love out there; I hope you enjoy the mag!

I’ve often heard people say that it’s hard to make friends in Tasmania. Everyone already has their set group of mates and rarely deviate from these familiar, founded–in–primary–school gangs. Bec Chirichiello scales it down, taking us through the awkward task of making friends if you’re a new student at UTas. And in the meantime, Ella Kearney and Michael Voss give you a few ideas for filling up your free time by busting in on a couple of extra lectures outside their timetable.

As always, we like to have a piece or two reflecting Tasmanian life. I am so utterly excited to present a beautiful piece of photographic work by UTas student, Trent Binning. We’ve dedicated six pages, plus a few of

Ally Gibson "Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming" – Flute 4

Photo by Eloise Warren 5 Photo by Trent Binning

6

CONTENTS 2 / Letter from the Editor 6 / Contributors 8 / Andrew Wilkie 14 / Vulture Funds 18 / Sheep in a Wolf's Clothes 20 / Fashion Blogging 22 / North of Creek Road 28 / Tim & Jean 31 / Architecture in Helsinki 34 / The Environmental Wars 38 / The Lecture Assignment 40 / The Colemans 42 / TUU: Post VSU 44 / How to Make Friends in Tasmania 46 / Professional Travelling for Students Photo by Trent Binning 7

CONTRIBUTORs DESIGNERS Ami Cason confuses people with the fact she does not have a Facebook account. The mystery remains.

Jacky Ho contains no artificial colours, flavours or preservatives.

Ho, p. 4–5, 14–17, 28–30, 38–39

Cason, p. 20–21, 31–33

Sam Lyne is the one who scared that cat.

Lyne, p. 1, 6–7, 22–27, 40–41, 46–48

Jemima Phelps is a third–year student, designer, and all–round type enthusiast. She enjoys sunsets and long walks on the beach with her ampersand.

Phelps, p. 42–45

Eloise Warren can sense when spiders are on the wall in the dark.

Warren, p. 2–3, 8–13, 18–19, 34–37

8

Firstly.

FEATURE WRITERS Tahlea Aualiitia is a pop culture victim who is trying, not so secretly, to reference James Franco in her Honours project. Why? Because then their names will forever be associated in academic text. This is large.

Trent Binning recently attained a Bachelor of Fine Arts and is currently stockpiling explorer socks for the Tasmanian winter.

He is also learning German.

Fabian Brimfield is allergic to hipsters.

Sophie Clark is a second–year Arts student who has been published in Voiceworks, Lip Magazine, and DOLLY. In her spare time she enjoys writing short stories and dancing by the light of the moon.

Ella Kearney Tupac still lives.

Bourne Milano is a former commerce student, who has settled into a top four accounting firm. Bourne’s bone structure should prevent him from a life in accounting, but his work with numbers is as beautiful as the Sistine Chapel.

Caitlin Richardson discovered herself whilst travelling last year. She was exploring a cave with Albus Dumbledore when she spotted it floating in a rocky pool.

She pocketed her find, but sadly it was confiscated by customs on the way home.

Michael Voss has been heralded as the new Peter Cundall.

Photo by Trent Binning 9

ANDREW WILKIE Anita Whittle “I have received a number of death threats in my time, but I'm not fearful for my safety. People who make death threats are spineless.”

Sitting on a maroon couch in his Hobart office, Andrew Wilkie has the standard look of a middle–aged politician.

He is a small, 50–year–old man with a shock of grey hair dressed in a suit and tie. He speaks like a politician — careful with words that could be taken out of context.

He has become well–versed for the press; considered and comfortable in the public eye. In our conversation, he casually drops in key catch phrases he used earlier in a public address.

Wilkie's election last year into the Federal Government has granted him status as one of Australia's most powerful politicians. He is one of four independent cross benchers in Parliament holding the balance of power.

In 2003, Wilkie became the only Western intelligence officer to stand up and accuse the Australian Government of lying to justify the invasion of Iraq. Now, Wilkie is at the centre of media attention once again over his deal with Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, to reform the gambling industry. He claims that a smear campaign executed by the gambling industry has included a threat to his life.

But Wilkie remains nonchalant, accustomed to vilification.

“I've been in public life for eight years, including some hot seats. It's not the first time I've received a death threat.”

In 2001, Wilkie began working as an intelligence officer in the Office of National Assessments (ONA) after a 20–year career in the army. Wilkie had gone from high school at McCarthy Catholic Senior High in Tamworth to the Royal Duntroon Military College in 1980. He became an officer in 1984 and rose to the position of lieutenant colonel and served until he was medically discharged for a knee injury.

In 2003, the Australian, British and United States governments asserted that intelligence reports showed that Iraq held weapons of mass destruction. Wilkie, a senior analyst at the time, claimed the Howard Government greatly exaggerated Iraq's quantity of weapons of mass destruction and “it was not a justification for war.”

Colin Powell, the United States Secretary of State at the time, made the case for war to the United Nations on February 2003 based on intelligence that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction.

“When someone like Colin Powell presents evidence in the UN Security Council, that would have [seemed like] compelling evidence. But for people with a critical eye, such as myself, it was in no way persuasive.”

10

Profile.

“I HAVE RECEIVED A NUMBER OF DEATH THREATS IN MY TIME, BUT I'M NOT FEARFUL FOR MY SAFETY. PEOPLE WHO MAKE DEATH THREATS ARE SPINELESS.” Wilkie wrote in his book, Axis of Deceit, published in 2004 that he believed “the war in Iraq… was neither justified nor legal.”

“Time and time again, the [Howard government] played up the risk of terrorists using weapons of mass destruction,” he says. No valid evidence supporting pre–war claim of weapons of mass destruction have since been found.

Wilkie resigned in March 2003 before the invasion and placed this evidence before the public, giving speeches and television interviews. Wilkie says he placed himself in a “very, very difficult position”.

He received threats, was discredited in the Australian media and was attacked personally by John Howard as a result of his claims. “When you stand up and try to speak truth to power, it's tough.

“Being a whistleblower in Australia is a very difficult thing and when you are involved in an issue as big as invading another country and accusing the Prime Minister of lying it is obviously a big deal.”

Today, Wilkie maintains that he did the right thing and believes that whistleblowers are an essential part of a healthy democracy. “I have absolutely no regrets about the Iraq whistle blowing episode and I'd do it all again.”

In hindsight, however, Wilkie realised that he didn’t have the slightest idea of the consequences, “It was new, it was unfolding, I was just managing it as it happened. Though I survived remarkably well, to find myself eight years later sitting here, having this conversation as a member of parliament.”

Wilkie’s colleague at the time of the whistle blowing, Kate Burton — who later became his wife — was one of few colleagues to offer support. “We were good friends and he told me his plan. I was in the loop — up to a point.”

Wilkie gave Burton a key to his Canberra apartment before his resignation, “just in case”. “He might have been jailed for breaching the Official Secrets Act,” says Burton.

"He just wanted to make sure… things were sorted.”

Many of Wilkie's colleagues felt differently. Burton says there was a lot of anger when Wilkie leaked the information.

“People were using the word betrayal and worse. People who work in that area, we just don't do that sort of thing.

These are long standing intelligence officers at ONA who are experts in their fields. They are high level, intelligent people. A lot of them felt betrayed and shocked.

“Andrew — 20 years in the army, a pretty straight guy — he was the last person you would have thought to do that.”

Burton says she remembers a big difference when Wilkie left.

“We'd always hear Andrew lining up meetings or organising dinner parties. He was very gregarious. He was very funny — distracting for someone like me. The day after he left my boss called out from across the corridor, 'it's pretty quiet around here now, isn't it?'”

Burton and Wilkie became a couple in 2004 and moved to Tasmania the following year. They married in October 2006, and two year later bought a small imported rug business in North Hobart.

While Wilkie began his political career long ago as a member of the young Liberals, in 2004 he joined the Greens and ran against John Howard in the Sydney electorate of Bennelong. While he was not elected, in one year Wilkie had gone from blowing the whistle on the Prime Minister to campaigning against him for a seat in parliament. When Wilkie moved to Tasmania he ran with Greens leader, Bob Brown, for the Senate at the 2007 election, but was again unsuccessful. Wilkie split from the Greens in 2008, claiming the party “lacked professionalism”. Brown said that Wilkie was egotistical.

In March 2010 Wilkie ran as an independent candidate at the Tasmanian state election but narrowly missed out on a seat in Denison won by Liberal member, Elise Archer, by 315 votes. Recalling his unsuccessful twelve month campaign, Wilkie says, “You'd think I would have climbed into a big warm sofa somewhere. But I found myself on a bit of a high, really pumped up about the issues and more determined than ever to be active politically.”

It wasn't until the federal election in August last year that Wilkie's political career was fully realised.

“When I saw the list of candidates for the federal election I saw an opportunity. There was no star candidate who was going to blitz it. I thought, 'I'm going to give this a go.'”

11

“…AN ISSUE AS BIG AS INVADING ANOTHER COUNTRY AND ACCUSING THE PRIME MINISTER OF LYING IS OBVIOUSLY A BIG DEAL.” Wilkie stood as an independent for Denison and won the seat in one of the biggest swings of the election. “You can imagine how exciting it was for me on the night of the election,” says Wilkie.

“By the time I went to my election night party in Battery Point it was already clear that it would go down to the wire in Denison and that Australia would absolutely go down to the wire. No one had paid any attention to 'Andrew Wilkie', but because my partner Kate had worked for Duncan Kerr, someone in the ALP had Kate's mobile number,” he recalls.

“At 9.15pm, Kate walks towards me in the restaurant with a stunned look on her face and says, 'It's the Prime Minister,' and I say, 'Yeah, pull the other leg,' she says 'No, it really is the Prime Minister'.

“Julia Gillard simply said, 'you're likely to win the seat, I just wanted to congratulate you, we can talk more about this on another occasion.’”

The tables turned when Wilkie won the election. The ALP and the Coalition both won 72 seats. In the first hung parliament since 1940, both parties remained four seats short of the requirement for majority government.

Just eight years ago, Wilkie was being condemned by the Government for being un–Australian. Now, Wilkie played a part in forming the Government. Both Julia Gillard and Tony Abbott approached Wilkie to negotiate deals.

“I narrowed my negotiation down to two flagship issues — maybe it was my army training: I was taught to attack on a narrow front and punch through… I focused on money for the Royal Hobart Hospital and the pokie machine reform.”

With Gillard and Abbott thirsty to accommodate his wishes, Wilkie found himself in a position of great power.

“The Liberal Party and I have a history, going back to the Iraq war and the way they treated me. I needed to be persuaded they had changed their spots, and I was not,” says Wilkie.

“Even though Abbott offered me one billion dollars towards a new hospital, I decided that 340 million dollars

from the ALP was the better offer. It was a more realistic figure, it was made clear how it would be delivered and it was consistent with the state governments' plans for the hospital.

“I wanted assurance; Gillard read me better.”

Wilkie backed the ALP, allowing Labor to form government and reinstating Julia Gillard as Prime Minister. He insists he has kept a level head about the influx of power he received.

“I think I have a healthy respect for the power I enjoy, but also the limits of that power. The power I have comes from being one of six cross benchers in the balance of power in a hung parliament. Yes we have an unusual amount of power. We do have moments of great influence, like getting a quarter of a billion — a third of a billion dollars — for the Royal Hobart Hospital, and driving the pokie machine reform. But there are all sorts of checks on that.

“People think I can just click my fingers and change a law or have a cheque for a million dollars written out. It doesn't work that way. For a start, there is my sense of personal responsibility to be sensible and do what I can to foster stable government. There's the reality of politics.”

Wilkie believes the "razor thin” power sharing agreement is working well in Canberra because there are a “good bunch of responsible cross benchers”.

“It's eccentric. We have on the cross bench everything from the far right to the far left. It's quite remarkable, but things are working. I've got to know Bob Katter, who's about as far from me politically as you can get. And you know what? He's a good man, who does a good job of representing his constituents and he stands for something.

I admire that.”

Wilkie says that many people struggle to understand that the current hung parliament is a legitimate arrangement.

“The election result was a good result. The only thing the country is concerned with really is: is it working? And I think it is working.”

While Wilkie paints an overwhelmingly positive picture of the situation in Canberra, he sees the situation in Tasmania in stark contrast.

“There were missed opportunities in the Tasmanian parliament. I don't think we are seeing the dividends of a power sharing parliament like we see in Canberra,” he says. The Greens made a bad call by joining the Cabinet and becoming part of the government. They have gone quiet, they are too close.”

12

Profile.

Despite his split from the Greens, Wilkie remains committed to Tasmanian environmental issues, in particular the Gunns Tamar Valley Pulp Mill which was approved in March this year.

“I opposed it from the day I first heard of it. It won't be pollution free, it won't be sustainable. It's a dirty mill in the wrong place and it wasn't assessed by a process that we can trust. They have changed their plans [but] I still condemn it.”

Wilkie is no stranger of condemnation. When he has a strong opinion, he makes it abundantly clear. On March 1 this year Wilkie publicly condemned “the racism that eats at the Liberal Party”, a remark he stands by today.

“It's not a criticism of the whole of the Liberal party, nor of everyone in the party… but that sentiment does corrupt some of their policies. There is an element of xenophobia, racism and for some, hate, in some policies — most notably border security issues and irregular immigration into the country.

“When it comes to war it’s in the mix as well. For some Australians, unfortunately, people who don't look like us have less value so there are fewer considerations when waging war against them.”

Wilkie believes the public is becoming desensitised to warfare.

“That doesn't mean people don't care… [But] it's less relevant to them than their most pressing concerns. And for some their most pressing concerns are things like, how are they going to pay their electricity bill? “[In] places like Denison there are so many people sleeping on the street, people who don't know where their dinner's going to come from. People who don't know how they're going to pay their bills tomorrow. People who are stuck down at the emergency department for half a day or a day waiting to be treated. There are an awful lot of people who fall through the cracks. It amazes me in Australia in such a rich and fortunate country, that governments almost squeeze people through the cracks,” says Wilkie.

“It's not that we can't do it better. It's just bad government, making bad decisions. If we help improve the hospital, that will save lives. If I get these poker machine reforms through, that will save lives.”

Wilkie is knuckling down for a long fight in regard to the pokie machine reforms.

“The pokie machine industry has just launched a 20 million 13

“I'VE GOT TO KNOW BOB KATTER, WHO'S ABOUT AS FAR FROM ME POLITICALLY AS YOU CAN GET. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? HE'S A GOOD MAN…” dollar advertising campaign against the government, and against me.”

He believes he is now being subjected to a smear campaign being covered by the media. This includes claims he ordered cadets to give a Nazi salute while at Duntroon Military College 30 years ago. Wilkie is the first to admit that he acted the larrikin during his early army days. In Axis of Deceit he writes, “You name it and I probably got in trouble for it back then”.

"But at the moment the [gambling] industry is having a field day. I've lost a lot of skin. I don't know whether to be terrified or flattered that they are coming at me.”

But Wilkie is confident that the reforms will go ahead as planned.

“There's a lot of fighting to be had yet, and we've certainly got a lot of people behind us.”

Despite the recent threat to his image, Wilkie is adamant he is an ethical politician. “A very senior politician, Graeme Richardson, made a comment that ‘all politicians lie’. I don't agree with that. I don't think all politicians lie.

“There is no reason to have to compromise on right and wrong. I think the more careful you are to maintain your principles and live by them, the better member of parliament you are. Choosing between right or wrong is easy. You do the right thing or you don't and if you don't you should be condemned for it. But choosing between two rights is terrible.”

“There's a big issue coming up in Queensland where the opposition wants to overturn state government laws protecting the wild rivers on Cape York and in the Gulf of Carpentaria. On one hand the Queensland state government laws are good laws that protect these rivers, but Tony Abbott's argument [is] that it tramples on the rights of the traditional owners. At some point I will have to decide between one and the other. This is a big issue to do with the environment and indigenous rights, state and federal relations. Whatever I decide, it's going to leave a whole trail of people disappointed,” says Wilkie.

“This is certainly a very stressful job. I often have a big knot in my stomach worrying about issues or consequences; am I doing the right thing? There are some situations where you just can't win.”

Wilkie's wife, who now works as a photographer and writer, knows this only too well.

“Integrity flows through his personal life; it can be annoying sometimes.”

Burton believes that Wilkie takes political issues to heart.

“He's a man of his word and he's someone who really can't go in fighting hard for something he doesn't believe in.

“Pokie machines; this was a theoretical issue. But the more personal stories he heard about suicides, marriage break–ups, business bankruptcy, gaol, mental illness that pokies is associated with, the more passionate he became about really making difference. If it was purely about politics, he wouldn't be going through with what he's doing in the face of that; it's going to get really dirty,” says Burton.

Of anyone, Burton would know the strength of Wilkie's convictions.

“Kate has been with me through all of this, including the Iraq business,” says Wilkie.

“She has a PhD in Political Science, so she understands, she's very politically literate. Though, it's hard being in her position.”

Burton and Wilkie live in Sandy Bay with their two daughters, Olive and Rose.

“Being a new member of parliament; an independent without a party to lean on; in the balance of power in the federal parliament; and driving national reform with the pokie machines, on every front is a full time job. I have much less time for family than they deserve.

“My girls, they're fairly forgiving.”

Wilkie smiles, stands up, and gestures excitedly towards a large framed black and white photograph of a toddler in a printed dress, “There's my two–and–a–half year–old there.”

He points to another large frame that hangs behind his desk, this one in colour; a young girl amid a yellow field, “and my four year old, on the Jordan River levee at Brighton last winter.” He sits down again. "I've been invited to go on the 7pm Project tonight, but I should go 14

Profile.

“…THE [GAMBLING] INDUSTRY IS HAVING A FIELD DAY... I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO BE TERRIFIED OR FLATTERED THAT THEY ARE COMING AT ME.” home and help my wife put our girls to bed.

“Last night when I got home, Rose was asleep, and Olive was just going to bed so I only saw her briefly,” he says.

“This is a very hard job for people with a young family.”

Wilkie pauses, thinking. “Mind you, a lot of jobs are very hard for people with a young family.”

opportunity. These are historic days, politically.

“I am aware that I am a very fortunate man, to be put in this position. To be given the opportunity to help people — that is an enormous privilege. Plus there are all the families who are disadvantaged in the electorate. If you can just help some of them, then it's all worthwhile.”

During our interview, Wilkie sometimes refers to himself in third person. Has he constructed a political persona for himself in the public eye; a second self to gain distance from the personal attacks he repeatedly receives?

“I never knowingly have a second self. I am just Andrew Wilkie, doing what I do. It would be very hard to [have a second self] because you are always on the job and you are always the family man.”

I call Wilkie's wife on a Sunday afternoon. “We try and fit in family time,” she says.

“This morning we went to a fair at Collinsvale as a family, then Andrew went to the office to work. It requires a lot of management and... there isn't much we can do some of the time. He missed Olive's birthday because he was in Canberra in parliament.

“He sometimes gets the cold shoulder from the girls if he's been away for a while.”

But, says Burton, it doesn't take long to regain their affection. "There's nothing he loves better than a cuddle.

He's a loving father. He's keen, like I am, to make sure they grow up knowing right from wrong but have a lot of fun in the process.

“When he was elected, it was bad timing for our little family and there are huge sacrifices, but there are opportunities in life to make a difference and we decided as a family that it was worth it, given the things he might be able to achieve,” she says.

“Andrew makes things happen. On a driving holiday, if we can't find accommodation he'll look at the map and just be like, 'right, I've got a plan’ and it will work out well. He's a fixer, a problem solver.”

Wilkie is grateful for the partnership. “I am so busy, so focused on these big issues. I'm doing very exciting things, like meeting with the Prime Minister. Most people think, ‘wow’, whereas the person who is stuck at home, with two tired grumpy children — it's much harder for that person.”

Kate laughs. “We're drinking more wine than we used to.”

Wilkie admits, “It's hard because this is an extraordinary

Anita Whittle has 21 days to go until she finishes her Masters in Journalism... not that she's counting.

15

VULTURE FUNDS Kate Elphinstone

There is a Pulitzer prize–winning photograph, shot by Kevin Carter during the 1994 Sudanese famine, showing a tiny child emaciated with hunger. She is kneeling, hunched over, with her head hung; unable to continue on in the arid landscape. Lurking in the background, waiting for the child’s final breath, is a vulture. It sits patiently, watching its prey. This photo is called The Waiting Game.

This waiting game continues today, but the characters have evolved. The vulture is no longer an animal, but a multitude of American corporations. The child is no longer a single individual, it is an entire nation crippled with poverty and suffering from high debts. Today, these corporations are using opportunistic business practices to prey on these indebted nations. For this, they have gained the moniker “vulture funds”.

American corporation FG Hemisphere Associates (FGHA) call themselves “financial planning consultants”; an inconspicuous and slightly inaccurate description of their business practices. Part of its business involves buying the debts of poor countries at heavily discounted prices.

It then takes action against these countries in courts all

over the world, including Australia, to make them pay the forgotten debts.

FGHA’s current country of choice is the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), one of the poorest countries in the world. The Congo has already been subjected to other “vulture funds”. New York based company Elliot Associates sued the Congo for $400 million, on a debt they acquired for $10 million. Most of the Congo’s population of 66 million, approximately 79 per cent, lives below the poverty line. This percentage is set to rise with global food prices increasing 36 per cent in the last 12 months. The infrastructure in the DRC is non–existent.

Furthermore, the population is struggling to recover from systematic corruption which has ravaged the country. In Eastern Congo, three million people have died in a war that uses rape as a weapon. A nation in crisis represents opportunity for FGHA. This particular debt of the DRC is for a loan given in the 1980s to build electrical infrastructure. The original debt was $37 million. It now stands at $100 million. FGHA bought this debt at a discounted price in 2004 and is pursuing payment of the full amount. In 2010, they used the Australian court of New South Wales to seek part of this payment. The court ordered DRC to pay its $30 16

Feature.

17

million dollars of assets in the Australian Mining Industry to FGHA; an order which is entirely legal. The award equates to more than twice the amount of humanitarian assistance that Australia has provided the DRC since 2006.

Ultimately, it is the citizens of these distressed countries who will suffer from vulture funds exploiting our legal system. United Nations human rights expert, Cephas Lumina, told the UN News Centre that these companies steal funds which could be better spent on health, water, sanitation, food, housing and education. There is nothing illegal about FGHA’s practices. However, as Mr Lumina suggests, ethically their actions are in question.

“From a human rights perspective, the settlement of excessive vulture fund claims by poor countries with unsustainable debt levels has a directly negative effect on the capacity of the governments of these countries to fulfil their human rights obligations,” said Mr. Lumina.

Rachel Ball, director of policy at the Human Rights Law Resource Centre in Australia, believes vulture funds are a “vile practice” which the Australian government needs to act upon.

“Countries already struggling with crippling levels of poverty are being lumped with overblown debt arrangements that are unrealistic and immoral,” Ms Ball said.

“Australia’s legal system is being exploited for unscrupulous financial gain and the government needs to take practical steps to help stamp out such practices.”

It is the responsibility of countries to develop their own legislation to prevent vulture actions in their courts. Vulture funds can pursue their legal claims without consequence because they are not tracked by international regulations. The global economy also allows these corporations to structure themselves in multiple jurisdictions, often allowing them to hide in tax havens.

Carol Musyoka, former chief operating officer at K–Rep Bank has over 10 years of financial leadership and legal experience working in Kenya and the United States.

She doesn’t see this business practice ending soon — especially not by its own volition.

“As long as there are shareholders who are willing to do anything to get a return on their capital, you will always find unethical business practices,” said Miss Musyoka.

“It therefore requires those who regulate or do business with such organisations to take the moral step of deciding whether to allow or enhance such practices”.

Governments around the world are slowly beginning to act to limit this practice. The UK has already taken a practical step by passing the Debt Relief (Developing Countries) Act on the 8 April 2010. The act limits the amount a vulture fund can claim in UK courts from the 40 most indebted countries. These 40 countries are known as the Heavily Indebted Poor Countries (HIPCs) and include the DRC. From this list of 40 countries, 33 are African.

As of this year, the United Kingdom has made the Debt Relief Act a permanent law. This law has already saved Liberia $40 million and will continue to save more poor nations from the vultures’ clutches.

“The UK law is an amazing example which needs to spread across the world,” said Nick Dearden, Director of Jubilee Debt Campaign, one the main campaigners for the Debt Relief Act. "We see this law as an important first step in putting the fight against poverty and inequality ahead of the excessive profits of a few greedy investors. Ultimately, we hope this protection will be afforded too many more developing countries."

Mr Lumina agrees with the sentiments of the Jubilee Debt Campaign.

“I commend the UK for taking a critical step to halt the profiteering of vulture funds at the expense of both the citizens of distressed debtor countries and the taxpayers of countries that have supported international debt relief efforts,” said Mr Lumina.

In 1999, the HIPC Debt Initiative was launched by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. This initiative was put in place to offer debt relief to the world's poorest, most heavily indebted countries. Vulture funds abuse this system without conscience, sweeping in with their claim to payment once this debt relief has been awarded to the indebted country in question.

FGHA began pursuing the DRC once they received debt relief and was therefore a profitable target. This is why legislative change is needed to prevent vulture funds using our courts to aggressively pursue payment from funds which are aimed at helping the populace move out of poverty.

Rachel Ball says the operation of vulture funds severely undermines Australia’s contribution to debt relief programs. However, she maintains it is resolvable.

“The good news is it can be stopped by introducing the appropriate legislation,” Ms Ball said.

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FGHA is just one of many corporations playing the waiting game. The Guardian reports that at least 54 companies are known to have taken legal action against 12 of the world's poorest countries in recent years. These claims amount to $1.8 billion — money these nations cannot afford to give. Unless something is done, the vultures will continue to profit from these nations.

The fate of the starved child in Kevin Carter’s photograph is unknown. For Carter, a fallible human, the reality was too much. He saw firsthand what poverty can do to a nation, the devastation to the populace and the inherent helplessness of the situation. He committed suicide three months after the photo was taken. Vulture funds are unlikely to attach themselves to a similar, self–induced fate. For as long as nations are vulnerable and the law allows it, they will continue to play the waiting game, circling patiently before they attack.

“COUNTRIES ALREADY STRUGGLING WITH CRIPPLING LEVELS OF POVERTY ARE BEING LUMPED WITH OVERBLOWN DEBT ARRANGEMENTS THAT ARE UNREALISTIC AND IMMORAL.”

Photo by Kevin Carter

Kate Elphinstone aims to one day marry Donald Draper. Failing that, as long as she finds a "nice man" whose name isn’t "something weird like Albert," her mother will still approve.

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SHEEP IN A WOLF’S CLOTHES Bourne Milano On a cold winter’s evening in Paris, in a setting open only to the fashion elite, a young 19–year–old gaunt–looking Australian model strolls down the catwalk showcasing the latest creation from designer Jean–Paul Gaultier.

Nothing in this scene appears out of place; the beautiful young model has the same undefined hips, flat chest and slender build as all the other models in the room. It is hard to believe that the model is in fact a young man, named Andrej Pejic, who is not only modelling women’s clothing, but later in the week will go on to model men’s clothing as well.

While it has made world news, Andrej’s unveiling at this years’ Paris Fashion Week hasn’t stirred up the level of controversy that some would have once thought. It appears that subconsciously we have already accepted this was going to happen. Simply another small step along the inevitable trend towards androgynous fashion.

The trend can be traced back to the 1960s. Hairdressers all of a sudden experienced a sharp decline in business when men began opting for free–flowing, longer hair; personifying the counterculture period. Since then, there have been many noticeable steps towards androgyny: the shoulder padded power suits worn by women in the 80s; the metro–sexual wave; the emergence of brands like Ksubi and Nudie Jeans which are specifically marketed towards a unisex buyer; and more recently, the expansion of cosmetic and plastic surgery to cater for male clientele.

Blurring the gender–line in fashion hasn’t happened on its own. Fashion is reflective of social norms, and because of this, the key to what is accepted as fashionable constantly evolves depending on the decade.

One of these social norms has no doubt been steered by the music industry. As we all know, rock stars can get away with wearing whatever the hell they like. Outrageous clothing and make–up are no exception, starting with the coming of glorious andro–prince, David Bowie, closely followed by his league of androgynous brethren, including Prince, the Rolling Stones and Boy George. Since then,

we have witnessed a plethora of new artists who have continued to question our dichotomous notions of gender and sexuality. These artists include the likes of La Roux, Placebo and Fall Out Boy. In fact, the entire punk scene of today pretty much revolves around having to do a panicked double–take of the skinny, tattooed figure with caked on black eyeliner coming out of the toilet stall to make sure you haven’t drunkenly stumbled into the wrong gendered festival toilets; a merger not as readily accepted, unless you live on the set of Ally McBeal.

Movies and television have also played a key role in desensitising the masses to the concept of gender neutral.

Through portrayals of characters such as Vince Noir in the Mighty Boosh series and Hillary Swanke’s character in Boys Don’t Cry, broader gender concepts have been challenged. Even in an episode of The L Word, a female character ‘Shane’ is seen modelling men’s underwear for Hugo Boss, which makes Pejic’s story a direct case of life imitating art.

Other social trends outside of the entertainment industry are responsible for affecting a change in opinion. Women’s participation in the workforce elevated the androgyny trend to an all new high, particularly in traditionally male orientated industries. A follow on from this has been the change in the typical family dynamic. The introduction of the term “dual breadwinners” now means Dad is just as accountable as Mum to sit through My Kitchen Rules and explain to the kids why family dinners don’t compare.

Another aspect that has motivated the fashion world to get on board androgyny is the simple fact that marketing an item as unisex doubles sales. Not only does this benefit retailers, but has the potential to double consumers’ wardrobes to include their partners’.

These benefits have obviously been considered by Jean–Paul Gaultier and Myer, who have recently appointed Pejic as fashion ambassador for both men’s and women’s clothing. Despite the questions that are being raised around what this says about the ideal woman, it appears that more big names are looking to get behind Pejic’s unique androgynous look.

In considering where these influences have landed us, while there doesn’t yet appear to be a need for blokes to rush out and pick up a pastel dress, unisex is the new black and it's here to stay. From the long–standing trends in our social environment, Pejic’s story is not one of a passing fad, but rather another very visible peg reached on the inevitable trend towards androgyny in fashion.

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Photo courtesy theplace2.ru 21

FASHION BLOGGING Sophie Clark

Tavi, BryanBoy, Susie Bubble and Fashiontoast: these are the names of just some of the latest “it” style bloggers. They are photographed like celebrities as they traipse along New York’s pavements in signature ensembles or lean in against US Vogue editor, Anna Wintour, and her frosty smile for some paparazzi snaps at the front row of Fashion Week. Style bloggers have begun to infiltrate the fashion industry at a rate previously unthinkable — and not everybody is happy about it.

Franca Sossani, editor of Italian Vogue, for example, wrote on the magazine website that style bloggers “don't do much damage because they are like moths. They live only one night.” She compared their rise in popularity to an “epidemic”. Yet, she also noted that some style bloggers are fantastic and unique, highlighting the conflicted feelings many fashion journalists working in traditional media forms harbour towards bloggers.

Anna Wintour is one of the most powerful magazine editors in the world and is slightly more accepting of style bloggers than her Italian counterpart. Not enough, however, to view them as rivals to traditional fashion

journalists. She told Opening Ceremony, "like any evolution in the industry, [fashion bloggers] force you to become better at what you do....They force us to dig deeper for stories, but we're not competitors; we serve different markets."

Lindsay LeBoyer, 15, is the New York based blogger behind The Style Child. LeBoyer acknowledges that traditional media forms are informative, but thinks fashion blogs produce content and advice that is far more relatable for readers.

“While magazines create amazing work, there’s an aspect of blogging that they lack, and that’s reality. I’m not saying the content of blogs is better than magazines, but when you read a blog you know it’s real. It is real people who love fashion, expressing their ideas and doing what they love, and not for money or because it’s their job, just because they simply love it.”

While she hasn’t settled on a career path, LeBoyer feels blogging has helped further her knowledge of the fashion industry and potential jobs within it.

“I could see myself in fashion journalism, fashion merchandising and working on photo shoots or behind the scenes at Fashion Week. I think a blog is definitely 22

Feature. helpful because without my blog I wouldn’t have the understanding of how the industry works and what jobs are available.

“Blogging has... pushed me to explore parts of the industry I didn’t know existed. Another career possibility for me is stick to the Internet. Almost every brand, magazine and designer has a blog section on their website. If I could get paid to blog — well that would be a dream job.”

LeBoyer believes traditional fashion media is beginning to recognise the potential of style blogs and incorporating them into their corporate vision.

“Many fashion magazines are embracing bloggers and I think it’s amazing! Take Teen Vogue for example, not only do they interview and feature bloggers in their magazine, but they... select personal style bloggers from around the world and their posts appear on the website where readers can “heart” their favourite looks. I’ve been a “Fashion Click Blogger” since December and I love that Teen Vogue readers can access lots of blog posts all in one place. And it’s not just Teen Vogue — I’ve seen bloggers featured in Nylon, Glamour and many other publications.”

"WHILE MAGAZINES CREATE AMAZING WORK, THERE’S AN ASPECT OF BLOGGING THAT THEY LACK, AND THAT’S REALITY." Autilia Antonucci, 21, is an Australian fashion blogger who also features on Teen Vogue’s website as a ‘”Fashion Click Blogger”. She recently won Sportsgirl’s Super Stylist Competition and is also taking part alongside some of her favourite style bloggers in the Blog off Competition run by fashion brand Bardot.

Antonucci says she began blogging because she wanted “a creative outlet to express my style as well as showcase my skills in fashion and media” and like LeBoyer, she hopes that that it will provide her with an edge over competition when she pursues a job in the industry.

Antonucci believes most style bloggers do not perceive themselves as fashion journalists and thinks the distinction between the two roles is important, “I, for one, do not want bloggers to replace fashion journalists in any way as the two offer completely different purposes.

Blogging differs from journalism, as it is a more personal and interactive form of fashion media, which relies a lot less on writing skills and industry professionals.”

Rosie Findlay, 24, is a post–graduate student at the

University of Sydney completing her doctorate on style blogs. She explains the debate surrounding the worth of style blogs further, saying, “Often the criticism that is levelled at blogs takes issue with their supposed lack of knowledge and expertise. Yet that is precisely why others in the industry celebrate them. What style blogs offer is a personal take on fashion and style — they are largely less concerned with the movements within the industry and more focused on how fashion weaves into their lives.”

Findlay also believes the rise of style blogs represents wider social shifts in attitudes towards fashion.

“Over the past five or six years, fashion seems to have become more individualised,” she says.

“Within the fashion industry, those who have been lauded as ‘icons’ are always those with a distinctive style... people like Coco Chanel, Grace Coddington and Isabella Blow. What is desirable is to have your own look — and I think this attitude has been spreading.”

Findlay says that makes writing and learning about fashion more accessible.

“I think this is a message their readers warm to because it is more collaborative and inclusive than a mandate to wear fur [for instance] because that’s what was on the catwalks in Milan, Paris and New York.”

While debate around style bloggers continues to grow, it seems they will surely shape, in some way or another, the development of fashion journalism into the future.

As Findlay notes, “Bloggers have permeated the fashion industry at virtually every level — commercially, visually, creatively, and communicatively. I think at the heart of this change is that the ways people are able to engage with fashion have broadened, that new avenues of communication have been established and they are unlike what has preceded them.”

Individuals who chronicle their fashion experiences have been met by some members of the fashion industry with scorn. Yet style bloggers — and for that matter, superstar style bloggers, such as BryanBoy, have not yet faded from view in the rapid manner many predicted. Teen wonder, Tavi, for example, has already been published in a number of magazines and is set to launch a print magazine of her own alongside co–founder Jane Pratt (former editor of Jane and Sassy).

Style bloggers have been depicted as a cheap novelty, self–indulgent navel gazers, or alternatively, pioneers of a unique merger between high fashion and street style; whatever the case, it seems clear that for now at least, blogging is definitely the new black.

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NORTH OF CREEK ROAD For a month, photographer Trent Binning spent his weekends roaming the streets of Gagebrook and Bridgewater. The idea was to attain a small snapshot of life in the Northern Suburbs of Hobart.

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Togatus.

Trent Binning 27

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TIM & JEAN Hannah McConnell They are the new kids on the block. Meet Tim & Jean, the duo who have recently been gracing your ears and the airwaves with their electronic, pop–synth sound. Tracks such as Come Around and I Can Show You have been on high rotation lately on Triple J, and there is more goodness to come as Tim & Jean's debut album is set to be released in early April. I spoke to Tim Ayre on their new album, their 80s influences, and what it's like growing up in the coastal town of Mandurah, Western Australia.

Tim & Jean's debut album is Like What, and it was originally tracked and produced in Jean Capotorto's bedroom at the end of 2009.

“We are definitely excited to get it out and see what people's thoughts are… It's been a while since we recorded it, so I guess it's good to see it's coming out now,” says Ayre. “I get pretty sparked when things like the art work and all the different things come in a bit later and you can see the finished product coming out, it makes it a bit more exciting.”

Although Like What was produced in Jean's bedroom in

Mandurah, the album was mixed in New York City, where the Australian duo hung out for two weeks.

“We were in New York and we mostly just chilled out and looked around. We'd been there previously the year before showcasing for labels. But it was a really quick visit, enough to visit places and see things that we wanted to see, we didn't spend all the time in the studio,” says Ayre.

“The album was mixed by a guy called Jono Mahoney, he's done some really cool stuff! He mixed and produced all the Metric albums, he also did some cool David Bowie tracks with some different artists, also Lou Reed and Bob Dylan. He's worked with some really cool people and we got some really cool stories out of him. It's good to be able to work with somebody of his calibre.”

It is something of a surprise that a music act like Tim & Jean have emerged from the Western Australian coastal town of Mandurah. Ayre says that the music scene there is heavy, and has more of a punk vibe rather than electronic.

“Mandurah is a bit isolated, it's about 45 minutes south of Perth. It's on the coast, so it's really a kind of coastal town. It is pretty big though, it's a mini city. About 200'000 people live there. It is more of a heavy scene…

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"They are the new kids on the block."

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there wasn't much influence for hip–hop or electronic music” says Ayre.

Tim & Jean made the finals in Triple J's Unearthed High Competition, and were later selected to play at Parklife in 2009. Ayre admits that he didn't know a lot about Triple J Unearthed when they posted their tracks up on the website, but he does say that it was a great experience.

“It's an experience in itself. I didn't really know what it was when we signed up to it. But it was a great opportunity, it enabled us to have an album because of people hearing our stuff,” says Ayre. “Triple J Unearthed was the biggest help… I think it's good that bands have the option to do that, they can put their songs up and give it a try… It's been good fun.”

Tim & Jean are often compared with American band Passion Pit, due to their similar sounding pop–synth style of music. Ayre says that Passion Pit are an inspiration to them.

“They are a great band, we definitely have listened to them, and same with MGMT, we're big fans,” says Ayre.

“Pop–synth comes from the 80s, and I guess those guys bring it back today… I'm also a big fan of Herbie Hancock.

That is really influential to me and Jean.”

The last time that Tim & Jean performed in Tasmania, was at the Soundscape Festival in Hobart at the beginning of January this year. For those readers who attended this particular festival, you'll no doubt remember the torrential downpour and subsequent mud pit which followed — which you may or may not have rolled around in.

“We enjoy Tassie, it's got a great vibe,” says Ayre. “When we did Soundscape, it was raining but it was sort of fun — everyone was enjoying it. It was really muddy but people were still digging it, it didn't dampen their spirits, it livened it up.”

Although Tasmania will miss out on a show from the Western Australian duo on this album tour, Ayre assures me that they will be back.

“We'll definitely pop over and do a couple of shows. I'm not sure on this album tour if we're coming down to Tassie… but maybe on the next tour,” says Ayre. “We start touring on the 8th of April, and then we go till the end of the month. We start off in Perth, and then head over to Melbourne, then Sydney, then Brisbane and Gold Coast and finish in Adelaide. So we do most of the capital cities.” *The information in this article is subject to the time of the interview.

Images from Tim & Jean's music video, Come Around.

Hannah McConnell feels sorry for kids these days who don't get to watch cool 90s TV shows like Round the Twist.

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THE COLEMANS Tahlea Aualiitia

When you think of family bands, you think matching turtlenecks and tambourines. But in the case of Hobart band The Colemans it’s all about simple story telling and musical fusion.

John and his three children, Susannah, Jonno and Chris, are doing Sister Sledge proud! On a rainy evening Tahlea Aualiitia met with Chris and Jonno. She was quickly rugged up in Chris’ scarf and led outside to discuss what is was like growing up in such a musical family. Although, you can’t define The Colemans’ under any sort of musical genre — the one thing they definitely are is entertaining. Through the rain came the tales of deeply poetic thoughts, the consequences that come from leaving a candle unattended, and why they won’t let their mum join the band.

Tahlea: The dynamic of the band is you two, your dad (John) and your sister (Susannah).

Jonno: Yeah, Susannah is probably the talent [laughs], the only talent. She has an amazing voice and she is the only girl in the band. So when you have one girl up on the stage, then everyone is waiting for her.

So you all take turns being the lead singer?

Chris: Like a baton? Yeah, it’s like a relay team!

Jonno: It’s good because the spotlight is never on just one of us and it is good being able to just stand back and let someone else sing.

What about your mum?

Jonno: Nope. Not allowed [laughs].

She has been vetoed?

Jonno: There are too many Colemans already!

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The music of The Colemans has been defined under a lot of different genres — roots, alternative, soul, folk, pop — so, what is The Colemans’ sound?

Chris: [to Jonno] Don’t you dare throw us in a genre!

Jonno: I wasn’t. I was going to talk about the band.

It’s like storytelling in the folk style but under more contemporary roots and soft rock kind of music — acoustic and yeah...

So it’s like different styles of different music that you have made your own?

Jonno: Yeah. But I wouldn’t say that we’ve made it our own.

Chris: But… we write good songs!

Who are some of your influences?

Jonno: There are four core songwriters and we all have our own influences. But… what about you Chris? What are your influences?

Chris: Well. Rain on my face, bumming cigarettes off my brother and Leonard Cohen.

Jonno: Yeah, I like motorbikes and beer. But no, I enjoy a lot of 90s music. I love The Tea Party. Also twelve string open tuning is a big influence for me. Paul Kelly as well.

So you guys all play musical instruments. When did you learn to play?

Chris: Well, Dad — should we call him John or should we call him Dad? Chris and Jonnno: Dad! Jonno: He has played music since we were born, so we have always had that around us. He will put music on before he puts the telly on. So we have always been subject to that. And, I don’t know, there was always a family sing–along at Christmas.

Did you really? That’s so cool!

Jonno: Yeah, all the time. When the family is all together there’s always some kind of musical thing. I didn’t start playing the guitar until I was 14. Chris has been playing the guitar — since you were nine or something?

Chris: No. No. I don’t know. I was playing trombone when I was 10 and then Jonno had this bass and he tried to teach me this (starts humming bass line) and I got really frustrated. I showed Mum what it was but I couldn’t do it — then she started to play it before I could! So then, yeah… maybe I was playing guitar.

Jonno: Yeah, you were. You were a little kid. I remember.

Chris: Yep, nine. Let’s just say nine.

You are both front men for your own individual bands. What’s it like working with your family in comparison?

Jonno: It’s real easy — way, way easier. I’ve been in a

couple of bands and it’s mainly been melodic and heavy.

But it started getting to the point where I was more relaxed in life so it was getting harder to write for that kind of thing… because I was actually quite happy.

No more angst [laughs]?

Jonno: [Laughs] Yeah — trying to write epic angsty songs wasn’t working! So then we got The Colemans together. When we were recording the album, we did three rehearsals first where we all wrote an easy song that came right out of us and then got together in the band. It all just happened and it was easy. Then we just went in and recorded it all.

Wow. So it wasn’t like one family member said “let’s start a band”. Was it more of a natural progression?

Jonno: No, it was like Dad said we should all do something and I thought “that’s going to be a bit lame”. I thought that having a family band would be … I don’t know.

A bit Partridge–esque — like the Von Trapps or something?

Jonno: [Laughs] Yes. But when we did it, it was just so easy and the first gig we played live was our CD launch and it was just perfect. We’ve got natural harmonies and our voices mesh together — so one of us will just start singing and the other three will just do separate harmonies and it sounds great.

What’s the worst thing about being in a band with your family?

Jonno: None of us are organised and none of us take the lead. We all take the lead in our own bands, so when we’re in the group together none of us actually do it.

Chris: Nothing gets done. No one wants to make decisions. We need a manager.

So, where do you record your music?

Jonno: We do demos from home and produce our own stuff so we can send it off, but we go into a proper studio to do the recordings for the CDs. Chris: Well, funny story. Dad had been commissioned to write this song and he had to send it to Georgia in the United States by five o’clock the next day. I was working on mixing the session that afternoon, but I couldn’t get a nice sound on his vocals, so I went downstairs to procrastinate for a little bit. I left a candle burning unattended and it caught the curtains and it all went up.

There was like $20 000 worth of damage. Two unheard albums were gone and dad’s commissioned song. But the irony was that I wouldn’t have had the problem mixing the song had the room been stripped — because now the acoustics in the room are far better than they were before!

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“…THERE ARE SOME OFFERS AT A COUPLE OF VENUES IN LONDON, BUT IT’S A LONG FLIGHT FOR A WEDNESDAY NIGHT PUB GIG!”

Maybe it was a sign. [Laughs] Where do you see The Colemans in five years?

Chris: Well we started out winging it.

Jonno: I don’t think that we have looked five years ahead [laughs]. We have looked one year ahead. Hopefully we will get some funding and record a new CD and get some touring around Australia, maybe even Europe.

Chris: Yeah, there are some offers at a couple of venues in London. But it’s a long flight for a Wednesday night pub gig!

So if people in Tassie want to check out your sound where should they go?

Jonno: We have done a few gigs at Irish and we play at The Republic as well. There’s also Myspace and we also have CDs that people can order and buy.

Chris: Yeah, if you go to Myspace there is a link to an email and you can write and say that you want a CD. Then one of us will write back and say “Why? Give me some good reasons” [laughs]. We’re hard sellers. We don’t want to make it easy.

[Laughs] so, you have to earn the right to listen to your music?

Jonno: [Laughs] Yeah. That’s right. The next gig is not until August, we are planning a gig for Amplified.

Chris: You could plug my benefit show for The Colemans’ studio that burnt down on the 7 May at The Grand Poobah where I’ll be playing with my band Hannah.

Yeah, I’ll try and work that in somewhere. Any last words — like if you don’t follow The Colemans’ we’ll burn your house down?

Chris: Yeah, with a candle [laughs]! I came up with this the other day: A grandfather can plant a seed in the ground and nurture it for years and years and years and grown, let’s say a beautiful willow tree. But it only takes one of his grandsons to chop it down in a fit of rage and destroy all of his work.

Oh my God. Are you serious? That’s brilliant.

Jonno: You are amazing. What about — most people spend the first half of their lives building a cage and the second half they are trying to escape. So if you come to a gig we will teach you to escape your cage. For two hours at least we will teach you and give you the method.

[Laughs] Like Tony Robinson.

Chris: Yeah, check out The Colemans — it’s like the blind leading the visually impaired.

I highly doubt you guys are the blind ones.

Jonno: We definitely are after it! [Laughs] Photo by Jimmy Emms 35

THE ENVIRONMENTAL

WARS

“I’ve seen it work in New South Wales, where we’ve got a hundred thousand hectares saved. Quite often it doesn’t get you where you want, but often it will. We’re buying time for this place.”

Arriving at my first Journalism lecture two years ago from interstate, I asked the girl next to me what Tasmanian issue I should try to write about. She laughed and said I should look at the forestry debate. I dismissed the idea: the argument had already dragged on for decades, and surely there could be no more left to say about it.

For activists like Emma Capp, it is part of the pleasure of protesting.

Jessica Hancock

I was wrong.

Since then, my time in Tasmania has revealed to me that the forestry debate is as emotional and divided as it has ever been, and positions on the complex issue are as individual as the people who hold them. The misrepresentation and bigotry, from both sides, hasn’t exhausted the argument but exacerbated it. Recently, the failure to implement a Forest Moratorium by March 15, has ended the short ceasefire and seen the protests and the campaigns fire up once more. People from both sides are beginning to long for the end of the war that has wasted so much time, money and energy. Regardless, neither side has lost the will to fight on, especially since the Gunns Pulp Mill was federally approved in March this year.

But how could both sides be right? I decided to find out.

First stop was a night in Camp Flozza, the blockade in the Upper Florentine Valley run by Still Wild, Still Threatened, devised in 2006, which contains activists willing and able to spend hard winters living in tents 24kms from the nearest town, Maydena. Here, I found an enthusiastic and comfortable community who warmly invited us to share their food and company.

Many people, such as Bridie McEntee, have been involved with the camp for years. McEntee moved interstate to join the campaign after becoming inspired to protest for the Tasmanian wilderness. She was involved in environmental protection campaigns before she arrived in Tasmania, and advocates peace and non–violence.

“It can work where other means fail,” she explains.

Spending weeks at a time in the small camp isn’t always easy. “It can be cold, it can be wet. You really learn to value hot showers!” Bridie laughs.

“It’s pretty amazing, because it’s just the simple life. You realise you don’t need much. Everyone cooks communally and talks at night. It’s a real community, a real, big family, and everyone is passionate about this.”

Even so, these activists have bigger goals than just getting back to basics. Michael Tavares explains how this form of protesting evolved in Tasmania.

“It really all began when they flooded Pedder, and people stood in disbelief that something so beautiful could be destroyed. Ten years later, they used that energy and realisation of the madness to successfully fight a campaign to save the Franklin, and since then it’s been going continuously. I don’t think that there’s been a day in Tasmania since the Franklin when there hasn’t been a blockade somewhere.”

These decades of campaigning have not been without their effect. In 1981 only 8.5% of Tasmanian land was reserved, and since the 1983 victory for the Save the Franklin campaign Tasmania has achieved protection for more than 40% of the state.

However, these campaigns are never easy. Even though the blockades may be theoretically non–violent, their purpose is to cause a nuisance to the contractors. This can result in instances like the dramatic and violent attack on protestors in 2008, when a young man was dragged from his car and kicked in the head by logging contractors.

Even so, this is a rare incident, and for the most part the activists aim to incapacitate the contractors from logging, not aggravate them.

“We’re at the coupe before they get there in the morning, but because they’ve already started work there the previous days it feels like we’re in their personal space. So you get some very strong reactions from people. Particularly if you’re attached to their machine,” Tavares elaborates.

All we’ve got is that there’s nothing we can build that they can’t destroy, and the only thing that the forestry and police can’t do is kill us. So if we just put ourselves and our 36

Feature. safety between either a road in a forest or a machine in a forest, that’s about the only weapon we have.”

Tavares says protestors risk their safety because they feel Tasmanian forests are greatly significant.

“These places just have a right to exist,” answers Tavares.

“They’re the last remnants of the Australian expression of the Gondwanaland ecosystem. Now that may just be a botanic fancy, but something as unique and rare should be protected for that reason.

“For me, being out in a place like this fills that hole in your soul that people spend vast amounts of money trying to fill with flat screen TVs, or whatever. You stand in a place like this, take a breath in, and just be there, and then everything’s ok.”

There are of course a multitude of human oriented answers as to why the forest should be protected, from habitat and species preservation to carbon capture and storage.

Moreover, standing under these magnificent trees on such a fine day is indeed an uplifting experience.

“I just think sometimes you need to be cold, wet and muddy to know you’re in a place,” says Tavares.

“And if you look at places like the Arthur Pieman on the west coast, it’s protected in an improper way. It’s not going to be mined or logged, but people go four–wheel–driving across the middens. I just think it should be treated with proper respect.”

Capp agrees. “They shouldn’t totally lock it away, but they shouldn’t clear fell it for woodchips. That’s what everyone’s against, the complete waste. The unsustainable practices are just crazy,” she argues.

Tavares adds that the current practice isn’t sustainable or economical.

“They’re taking more and more forest and less and less product, and they’re getting less and less money, so economically it’s on a crash course. My political thing is that everyone should just give up paper, quit their jobs and grow their own food, but in the short term there is enough feed stock for paper production in the current plantation estate, particularly in Victoria, South Australia and northern Tasmania, where the Managed Investment Schemes almost tripled the amount of land under plantation in the last 10 years. There is an absolute glut of wood out there, of a better quality than the purpose it’s being used for. Forestry Tasmania, if it were an actual company, would have gone bankrupt years ago.”

37

My next stop was talking to people from Forestry Tasmania down at Geeveston in the Huon Valley.

Part way through my introductory coffee with Peter Pepper, the Community Liaison Officer, he received a call updating him on the blockade that they’d come across at 3am that morning. It was early April, and they’d already had nine protests since February.

“Basically what we do is just down tools and stop,” explains Peter at the conclusion of the call. “If we don’t have a professional approach, then it’s going to all come apart. And it’ll get nasty,” he adds, alluding to the 2008 incident.

“Our safety committee down here is really concerned about issues of someone eventually getting hurt. We want to build a case with Occupational Health and Safety to see whether they can at least go and talk to the Huon Environment Centre and say ‘sooner or later this is going to catch up with you or the forest workers.’”

The Huon Environment Centre, like Still Wild, Still Threatened, organises campaigns to protect threatened forests. These campaigns are not based solely on blockades, but they are an effective means of temporarily halting logging in a coupe, as the Forestry Tasmania representatives noted.

Amy Robertson, the Strategic Projects Officer, disagrees that this is the most effective method of protesting. As a graduate of Plant Ecology back in Victoria, she had originally conceived of forestry as a threatening industry.

“When I was a long haired hippie and thought that forestry was the problem, I wasn’t radical in the way I dealt with that,” she says.

“I tried to deal with the conflict constructively. I remember sitting down and writing a six–page response to the draft management plan for Wilson’s Promontory National Park. It was part of a massive number of submissions that completely changed the direction of that strategy.

So when someone is unlawfully obstructing forestry work I don’t have a problem with being part of saying ‘no, this isn’t the way to do it, you need to stop. Go and write a letter to a politician, go and hold a placard on parliament steps, change your vote or convince other people to change the way they vote.’ Don’t harass people, don’t obstruct the lawful work of honest people who are just trying to earn a crust for their family and do what they believe in, and what the state and the majority of its system supports. And I’m actually quite proud to be able to stand up for that.”

Another Forestry Planner, Penny Sangster, was once able to see advantages of having the protestors around.

“One, keeping us honest,” she says. “Two, it actually makes us go above and beyond our forest practice systems in Tasmania, which, as you probably know, are quite high.”

Forestry Tasmania has altered major environmental policies due to campaigning from environmental groups, such as the rule that prevents the logging of giant trees more than 85 meters tall.

“But now we sort of give a little, and then it’s just sort of take a bit more,” Penny qualifies. “The government just has to decide do they want a forest industry, or don’t they.”

The feeling that the protestors continually “change the goal–post” is one that disenchants many of the people at Forestry Tasmania. Many claim that the protestors don’t seem to be out–come orientated, but rather, driven purely by principle, making it impossible to win.

Craig Wilson, the Works Coordinator, is also frustrated with the lack of realism that he can observe.

“If you had a magic world, well you could say we won’t cut down the trees, but it doesn’t work like that. The fact is when it comes down to it, we all use wood,” he argues.

“We can produce wood sustainably here, to a very high standard, and if we don’t do that, we’re passing on our responsibility as citizens of Australia to get that wood from somewhere else, where there are black markets.

In many countries overseas, there’s black markets for wood; there are poor standards of Occupational Health and Safety; people get killed every day in the industry; people’s forests are stolen; and little or no regeneration.”

Wilson is also annoyed by the misrepresentation he perceives.

“What happens is that they get confronted with a picture of a bloody old tree and then what it looks like after it is has been harvested and burnt and everything else, and that doesn’t look good. But it’s part of a process which mimics nature using fire in the regeneration process.

Yes those trees get cut down, but go back there 10 years or 20 years later, there’s a bloody beautiful forest again.

“A great example of that is all this carry on made by the media of this Jan Cameron buying land off Gunns. We’ve got blokes here that were part of logging [that land] and regenerating it. Now it’s so good it was sold and reserved.

So if that’s the case, we can keep logging because that’s the end result!”

38

Feature.

“IF WE DON’T HAVE A PROFESSIONAL APPROACH, THEN IT’S GOING TO ALL COME APART. AND IT’LL GET NASTY” The Acting Planning Coordinator Charles Lowson doesn’t see a conflict between his work and the environment. “It’s about sustainability of the forests, and that’s what we aim for,” he tells me.

“The alternative to getting timber products from native forests is to use plantations, a monoculture that is not geared towards maintaining any kind of native forest values. If we can sustainably operate by regenerating native forest, which we can, then we’re maintaining a range of environmental values while producing a renewable resource. It’s about working with the environment in a sustainable manner.”

The recent remark by Western Australian Premier Colin Barnett, about Tasmania being Australia’s National Park and not pulling its own weight in industry, has also hit a few nerves. Graeme Richards, a contractor who has been involved with Forestry Tasmania for the last fifty years, is annoyed that “They’re going crook at us because we’re anti–development, but they just drag stuff out of the ground which isn’t renewable.”

This pride in sustainability and science is evident, as well as the emphasis on the regeneration, not just harvesting of the forests. There is also a fear of the consequences of doing nothing, especially in regards to the fire management of the state forests.

“The ramifications of locking it up and leaving it... you’re eroding the capabilities of people to manage and fight the fire,” says Peter Wass, the Senior Forest Officer (Plantations) for Huon. “Contractors are out there and they’ve got skilled people and the machinery to do it.

Close those people down, and it’s not practical anymore, you can’t go and fight that fire.”

Equally, every person down at the camp in the Florentine insisted that I encourage more people to come out and have a talk, or if nothing else, to just look at the spectacular forest. They, and other environmental groups, also run a multitude of events in order to prompt discussion of forest values and uses.

The next chapter in the forestry debate surrounds the Gunns Tamar Valley Pulp Mill. In 2010, various forest industries and conservation groups signed an historic Statement of Principles that concerned the future of Tasmania’s forests.

However, the moratorium on logging in high conservation value areas was not delivered, even though some Tasmanian forestry groups and environmentalists have now agreed to end logging in 600,000 hectares of these forests in the next six months. At the same time, a strong stance was taken by the Wilderness Society and other conservation groups never to grant Gunns the social license to build the contentious Tamar Valley or Bell Bay Pulp Mill.

In March of this year, Gunns did receive federal government approval for the pulp mill, provided that they follow more strict environmental standards than those originally proposed. However, the current situation is that Gunns has no financial backing for the pulp mill.

What comes to pass is not a prediction this author is willing to make.

Neither side of the debate has a solution, no matter how well any argument is articulated. There is no one truth, but a plethora of actions, opinions and ideologies. Broader social and philosophical movements of the world have a significant, though indirect, impact on this debate. Yet in spite of all the limitations, the voices that are included in this article are important; they are real people whose lives are profoundly affected by the forestry debate roaring around them which continues to roar around them.

Ultimately, there is a realisation, on both sides of the debate, that this issue needs discussion. Amy, the Strategic Projects Officer, says she “believes that our forests are a public resource, and they are valued by our community, in different ways.

“You develop and evolve your values by open debate and discussion and learning. You only get that if you have an open and frank conversation. Especially something that is as big and complex as the forest industry, and it is big.”

Jessica Hancock is the serial comma.

39

The Lecture Assignment Ella Kearney The university: Such a wondrous institution — 293 separate lectures and seminars occur every day at UTas. I made that figure up, but it got you thinking. To truly get bang for your buck, you should be hitting up at least double the amount of lectures you currently do. Yes, at first this seems ludicrous — why would you do this to yourself? But imagine the crime you can talk with your new multi–discipline knowledge. You’re at a party, “Yeah, all parts of your gastrointestinal tract is absorbing that alcohol, by a simple diffusion into your blood”.

Just chatting about life “Yes, I am afraid we are entering liquid modernity, our relationships are so transient”. Follow this with incessant, self– righteous laughter. Then pause and just hold your chin.

Over the past few weeks, I sauntered into a couple of lectures which weren’t on my timetable — oh no you didn’t — oh yes I did. The first lecture was a first year lecture on sociology of the body. I did my undergraduate degree in sociology, but this was a "new area". I hiked up to Stanley Burbs’ and felt quite nostalgic about dem good ol’ days. The only difference between my first year lectures and this one was that I sat right up the front this time, about two metres from the lecturer’s face. It felt so good to be able to do that without social ramifications.

The surroundings of the lecture theatre took me back to the good days, when barrels were fun; when lecturers played music at the beginning of a session; when you’d make tallies of how many times the lecturer said their go– to–word: “Basically”, “Essentially”, ”Um”; and when the chance of meeting that elusive hotdog was still alive.

The next lecture I went to was a second year law lecture.

This too took me back — yes, I dabbled with law. Second year law is a true test of endurance. It requires letting go of your personality and all things that make you happy.

It suctions any creative juice you have left in your soul until you eventually feel like a dehydrated banana crisp.

Consequently, sitting in the law lecture, knowing I wasn’t part of it, was quite delicious. Most vivid in my mind was the library tasks. If you want to go insane, do a library task, a law library task. And we wonder why law students get buck wild at their barrels — I ask the same question that Royksopp ask “what else is there?”

Finally, I listened to an online second year education lecture on drama and dance. Talk about heavy; the first slide was about “show and tell”. It’s a shame we don’t have “show and tell” at university. Perhaps we do. Think of “that” guy or “that” girl in your tute who simply can’t help but litter the class discussions with a litany of stupid anecdotes. “You know… this reminds me of when I was out the other night and…” Cheers, thanks for that, thanks for that stupid excerpt from your night out that didn’t help clarify the concepts or actually relate to what the tute was talking about in any way.

Why don’t we go to more lectures, make the most of our time at university? They present opportunities for increasing your wanky knowledge base and improving your status among the intelligentsia. More importantly think about all the people you could meet. Slip into a random lecture and scope the room for babes. Of course, once they realise you don’t actually have to attend that particular lecture, they will most likely be turned off.

Still… when in Rome.

40

Reflection.

Michael Voss When I first got this brief, my mind went straight to my orientation day at Elizabeth College. Fresh from the testosterone fuelled, sheltered existence of New Town High School, Sam Peacock and I decided that rather than attending tasters of any subjects we were intending to do at college we should instead opt to participate in subjects a little bit removed from the norm and as a result found ourselves doing dance, pottery and drama.

This time I opted for a more convenient approach. Being in the fifth and final year of my Arts/Law degree, I thought it would be interesting to first go back to a few of my old arts and law subjects to see whether they were how I remembered. Then, despite dreams of attending zoology, agricultural science or one of engineering lectures, was convinced to make the pilgrimage that is the journey to the business school.

a cheeky little refresher on the Spanish Civil War. History for me was my favourite subject in the course of my arts components. There was a point, at the end of this lecture, where I considered enrolling in more history subjects. Conveniently it was at about this point that I received an email about my current level of HECS debt and that dream died like a Spanish Republican in 1939.

Well on the way to regretting the course my tertiary studies had taken, I started wondering which subject I should sit in on next. I considered going to one of the business introduction to law classes and being “that guy” who answers all the lecturers questions (even the rhetorical ones). I also would have been keen to sit in on a botany lecture if I had any idea where to find one.

Instead, I ended up being convinced by my better half to attend a lecture of what she likens to “being run over by a truck and then being dragged along a gravel road for 100km”. In hindsight, I’m not sure why that convinced me.

ENGLISH — Nineteenth Century British Literature.

BUSINESS — Econometrics.

Despite being about The Sign of the Four (a Sherlock Holmes classic, which from memory is the first one that openly comments on him loving the Bolivian marching powder), I was haunted by flashbacks from my first year in English, where I was told that the Alien from Ridley Scott’s classic was actually a metaphor for a penis.

Having struggled through the likes of Corporations Law, Constitutional Law and Trusts, needless to say I wasn’t overly intimidated by a measly second year business subject, despite getting railed by maths in year 11.

Foolishly, I thought that I would have some (albeit basic) understanding of what was going on.

I know.

I was more wrong than the time my five year old self asked a fat lady if she was pregnant. This subject is perhaps the greatest sleep aid the world has ever known.

It’s like Valerian root and horse tranquilisers had a child. I spent the entire lecture trying to work out how to get out without drawing attention to myself.

Horrible images aside, being back in an English lecture after a couple of years was an interesting experience. It reminded me of the days where I could wing essays the night before the due date, read books that weren’t actually written by my lecturers and actually had fun in tutorials.

It was awful.

HISTORY — Europe at War 1914–1915.

In the end, this experience catalysed a few hard truths: Let me begin this by saying, regardless of your degree, you need to do at least one history subject with Gavin Daly. The man is a modern day Homer. It’s not an easy job making History interesting, but this man pulls it off, and pulls it off well. He is hands down the best lecturer I have had in five years. If you don’t believe me, sneak into one of his lectures. You will be convinced.

1) I am an Arts student through and through; 2) I am not entirely sure why I am studying law; and 3) I have no idea what Econometrics even means, and I don’t intend to learn.

I spent the lecture with my head in my hands, gazing at the lectern with fond memories of the days where I got to do research for subjects I actually enjoyed. That and I got 41

ARCHITECTURE IN HELSINKI Max Ireland

Architecture in Helsinki have been a constant on the Australian and international music scene for over 10 years. The band’s latest release Moment Bends, their first with Modular Recordings, is already making waves with new listeners and established fans alike. Now with four full length albums to their name, numerous remixes, singles and EPs, front woman Kellie Sutherland talks to Max Ireland about a changing music industry; keeping things fresh; and meeting band mate Cameron Bird at a party all those years ago.

Max: The band has been together for over 10 years now, what have been the biggest changes for the group over this period?

Kellie: They have all been pretty gradual; significant but gradual. Mostly over the last 10 years we’ve learnt so much about being musicians and being in a group working creatively together, that’s the biggest change. But as I said it’s been pretty gradual over the 10 years. When we first started it was all an experiment and we had no idea what we were doing. You kind just keep going and if you’re enjoying it then there is nothing stopping you from keeping going.

Do you feel like after all this time together the band is still experimenting? That there is still spontaneity rather than a formula?

Oh definitely, the only formula for us is we make sure 42

Interview. that we don’t repeat ourselves, that’s always in the back of our minds to try different working methods, techniques, ways of recording, instrumentation, producers; all different techniques so that we can keep it interesting and move forward creatively.

What have been the biggest achievements for Architecture In Helsinki?

I can’t remember any significant sign posts other than, for example, we get to work with the photographer that we really wanted to work with, or got asked to be part of this particular tour, or we finally got our own studio or managed to land the producer that we really needed for a song, you know? We set goals like that and work towards them. Then when they happen it’s really satisfying and gives you the zest to keep going. There hasn’t been a big massive moment, but I guess that’s kind of life.

Do you feel like the music industry has changed in your time as a band?

Significantly, yeah. Dramatically. Things that have affected us have been, you know, the rise and fall of Myspace, and the rise and fall of record sales. The internet, file sharing, peer–to–peer and just general pirating of music are all part of this general shift away from buying records. It’s more about people just sharing across the whole word. I think the music industry from the record company perspective has taken a serious blow, but as an independent artist, it’s not like our record sales were the driving force of being in the band anyway. You create ways of shifting what you do as a band in the world as it is nowadays. So we tour a hell of a lot, we go out to as many places as possible and play our show. That’s been a much stronger focus. Thankfully for us, we have a much stronger focus on the visual side of things as well, because we love that kind of stuff, artwork and music videos that sort of thing. The industry hasn’t changed that much even though record sales are cited as the major change. It’s never changed the way we have approached making music. People often say the thing about iPods and how people don’t buy albums anymore, and it’s all about singles. We still made an album that we wanted to listen to. We spent so long on the track listing. We want people to hear it how ever they want to hear it, but we made it with a playlist in mind as a whole collection of songs and all of them live together. It’s definitely an album, which people say don’t really exist anymore, but we’ve got one!

You released an album called We Died, They Remixed. Does the band feel vulnerable putting their work out to be remixed?

It was more like an experiment rather than vulnerability.

Also it was all curated by the band in that we chose the people that we wanted to remix our music. So it was a bit

of a reach out and a high–five to people that we respected.

We were kind of nervous, but also were like “please can you do something with us” and then we got the songs back. I like it because it was one of those chances where you can feel like you’re part of a community. When you’re in a band and you meet other people in bands, it’s a really major part, feeling like you’re in a community. So making remixes and choosing collaborations is just part of being part of the music community. We like to do things that highlight that.

A lot of people in the band play multiple instruments. Is there a favourite instrument that you guys fight over?

Yeah, we do play a lot of instruments, but we don’t do any of the swapping around as much any more. On this album it’s really synth heavy so I suppose when we are going to synth part it’s always like “oh yeah, I’ve gotta' play that fat bass line” or something you know [laughing]. There is a bit of that going on. But really it’s all about making it sound the best it can sound, so it doesn’t matter who plays it, it’s more about making sure that the song is right.

Your new album is just around the corner.

What’s different about this compared to your previous recordings?

Well, I think that on this album the recording process was very different. We took a lot of time with it and we took a lot of care. It wasn’t like we were resting on our laurels; we really wanted to step it up. We wanted it to be super romantic and emotional and for it to offer a total rainbow scope of how we feel about making music and living where we live and all of that and being together. So the album still has this overriding feel of Architecture in Helsinki with an exuberance and positivity, but it has a much deeper underlying theme, it rewards longer listening and that kind of thing. I hope people like it!

When you met your band mate Cameron Bird at a party, did you ever think you would take things this far?

No, I try not to think like that. I always think about the moment. I never once thought about it, but it is pretty amazing looking back at how far we have taken it though.

I’m definitely humbled by it.

Thanks for your time and I hope you guys continue to make your great music for another 10 years! *The information in this article is subject to the time of the interview.

Image courtesy of Universal Music Australia 43

TUU: POST VSU Caitlin Richardson I am heading to the finance office at the University of East Anglia, England, but the door is locked.

“You can’t get in” the lady outside says helpfully.

“Why is that?”

“Because of the occupation.”

“What’s that?”

I shouldn’t have asked. The lady frowns. She looks a bit like Mrs Twit and disturbingly, some smoke appears from her nostrils. She’s got a cigarette in her hand so I guess she’s not breathing fire, but still, she looks like she could.

“The Student Occupation.”

“Oh,” I say, as if I know what she’s talking about. I back away before she can roll me in pastry and cook me up in her English country kitchen.

It turns out that some students were occupying the building as a protest against education cuts.

It also turns out that everyone knows what a student occupation is. I don’t. I’ve never heard of students taking

over a building. It all sounds very Les Misérables. Do they all have curly ponytails and speak to each other in song?

Sure enough, there’s a placard scrawled with “No Education Cuts!” propped up against the window. There’s a group of students settled on the carpet and lots of grave official–looking people hanging around outside. There’s no barricade in sight, but it all seems pretty serious.

Now that I’m aware of it, there’s been news of student action in the papers: Petitions, demonstrations, more occupations in universities all over England. There are posters about it plastered all over campus too, Demo– lition 2010 in big black letters, like signs on a building site.

Coming back to Tasmania was like returning to a cosy sanctuary. All this sunshine and peace. Blue skies, soft furry marsupials. On campus, I can’t hear any voices crackling out of megaphones, boom boxes blaring or people stomping in Doc Martens.

There are no dance classes happening in the student centre either. No one is performing Tai Chi or an impromptu piano accordion recital in the court yard. I can’t buy a coffee and a piece of homemade carrot cake on campus for one pound fifty. And as far as I know, Groove Armada, Crystal Castles and S Club 7 are not 44

Reflection. making appearances at the Uni Bar any time soon.

Instead, UTas campus seems quiet. Eerily quiet. Where is our vibrant student life?

Student actions and events don’t happen on their own.

University unions play a key role in organising these opportunities. Through automatic student membership fees, student organisations in England are able to provide a broad range of activities and events on campus, and unite with other universities across the UK for protests and large scale demonstrations.

In the past, Australia had a similar compulsory union levy. However, in 2006 Voluntary Student Unionism was introduced across the country. Since the introduction of VSU, funding for events, services and campaigns has fallen significantly.

Sports and societies officer, Ingrid Lagerewskij, says that students continue to participate in university activities.

“Numbers did go down when VSU came in, but they are growing again which is great,” she says. At present there are over eighty student societies and more than twenty sports clubs. As for numbers of students involved, “a guesstimate at this stage would be 9000.”

On organising student events, Elyse Jenkins, Union Vice President and events co–ordinator says “the hardest part is getting the message out there.” The representatives recognise that students today are under financial and time constraints. “We acknowledge that it can be difficult for students to stay on campus after class,” Bintalib says.

However, student participation is what drives these initiatives. “We organise events” Jenkins says, “but if there’s no response, what else can we do?”

“University unions lost millions of dollars,” says Saleh Bintalib, State President of the Tasmania University Union. The influence of the union has seemed to have diminished, to the point that a second year law student says simply, “I don’t know what the union does”. A third year science student adds, “I’m not sure what the student union is. Is it something to do with student welfare?”

The student union will be running a busy program of events in the first week of second semester. During the semester there will be also be a multicultural food evening, and concerts in the Uni Bar. Elections for student council positions will happen closer to exams. “It would be great to see more people running for election this year” Elyse says. Become friends with the student council on Facebook (search for Tuu Src) to stay informed about up– coming events.

Post–graduate student, Brendan Churchill, was an undergraduate student before the VSU was introduced. He recalls the days when the student masses sprawled across the oval during O–week, participation in societies and sports clubs was widespread and people actively engaged in student politics. “The introduction of voluntary fees saw an abrupt change in student life,” he says. “There are less social opportunities now. A sense of student community has been lost.”

The student union hosts TUU Toast every second Thursday from 9:30 til 10:30 on the Ref steps. Apart from enjoying a free hot breakfast, Jenkins urges anyone with ideas or suggestions to come along and meet the representatives. “We’re constantly thinking of different avenues,” she says. “We’re here to help the students, but it's difficult if people don't talk to us.”

Bintalib says the TUU remains “a voice for students”.

Despite challenges, student representatives fight for the best interests of students, focusing on the key areas of student poverty, social inclusion and student safety. Saleh believes the union continues to play a major role in state and federal politics. “Student representatives talk directly with government and relevant agencies” he says.

Uni can be an isolating time. Enduring painfully silent tutes; studying in those tiny cells in the library; reading a thesis on “The symbolism of the Chihuahua in Late Nineteenth–Century Welsh Gothic Romance Novels”; and knowing you’re probably the only person in the entire world who has ever opened the cover.

In this environment, student collectives become really important. They remind us that we’re not struggling through the hazy landscape of academia on our own.

Student representatives across the country are currently lobbying to restore student unions fees. Bintalib believes that these prospects are exciting. “It will enable us to provide better services and events for students” he says.

For students like Brendan this will be a worthwhile investment. “If the fee is in exchange for a better student life, then I’ll happily pay.”

Many commentators believe the recent uprisings in the Middle East have been sparked by the growth of social media, and the sense of collective strength that it creates.

These developments show what student activism is all about, becoming aware of being part of something larger.

Trying to make things better.

“We want to improve student life” says Jenkins. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Photo by Jemima Phelps 45

How To Make Friends

In Tasmania Bec Chirichiello

Dearest reader, If you have never looked around your class wishing someone would catch your glance, if you have never wished for another friend around campus, then stop reading. This article is not for you…

I write in the spirit of the graffiti artist who left the words, “why can’t I make friends here?” in the girl’s bathroom, level two of Morris Miller Library, in 2010. I write this for the other girls who took pen to wall to let her know she is not alone.

After a month at UTas, while sitting on the toilet, I read those messages and I felt happier about my situation.

I had been having trouble making friends in Hobart, but perhaps this was not because I was not a scary weirdo.

Maybe that’s just how it works here.

I’m not a stranger to trying to fit into a new place. I moved from Launceston to Canberra for study and I managed to find friends and create a sense of home.

I have also lived and worked in Bolivia and found a network of good friends there.

So when I came back to Tasmania and started university in Hobart last year in July, I was ready to start my postgraduate studies and was looking forward to throwing myself into university life. I figured that with a bit of effort it would be easy.

In my first lesson I tried speaking to all types of people, and while they would talk back, as soon as we were free to leave, they disappeared.

My second and third class followed the same pattern.

Before class people were in groups or silent, during class we worked and then they were gone.

By the end of week three I realised that I was spending most of my nights cradling my laptop in my silent room.

I kept looking at Skype and Facebook, obsessively refreshing my emails while hoping for a friend to reach out and push my loneliness away. I would speak to them 46

Reflection. often, but as soon as the call disconnected or they went offline, the emptiness would feel crushingly worse.

I realised that if this continued, I’d be adopting three cats and talking to myself incessantly before the year ended.

Avoiding such a fate gave me a strong incentive to really try and create a social life here, even if it cost me my remaining dignity.

Enter operation friend–blitz.

I called the netball president, trying to get involved.

She never picked up. I contacted old high school friends for catch–up coffees, only to realise how full their lives already were. I went to public lectures on interesting topics. I joined a gym and signed up for postgraduate Pilates. I enrolled in adult education courses. I got a job.

Post operation friend–blitz, I definitely had a busier schedule and more acquaintances.

Still, the only person I really spoke to more than twice a week was my housemate Claire, and I wasn’t sure if that was only because she couldn’t escape me.

I started to think something was wrong with me. At what point in my travels had I become so unfriendable?

Luckily, I still had a little certificate from my Canberra friends, declaring me to be the “best friend of the millennium”. I stuck it to my mirror for reassurance and kept trying to make new friends.

I realised that one of my biggest problems was that I wasn’t entirely sure how to indicate to someone that I wanted to be their friend. My caffeine addiction provided one solution and I would invite interesting people for a coffee.

However, this had the potential to backfire. Once I had a good conversation with a new girl in one of my classes.

I suggested we hang out and get coffee, and she agreed.

Our class wouldn’t finish until five, which was when I was meant to start my shift at work, so during the last little talk by our lecturer I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and slid it to her. She glanced at me quizzically.

“Oh, I’m not hitting on you!” I said quickly, realising what it looked like. “I’m not a lesbian.”

I was talking too loud. “Not that there is anything wrong with lesbians.”

I had just randomly announced my sexual preference to the entire class. I had to leave. To her credit, my friend– to–be offered me her number, but my mind had settled on flight and I hurried away.

My birthday was a new opportunity. Surely, asking someone to a party is less intimidating than a one–on– one coffee date. I invited some potential friends and organised a party at my house. For a week beforehand I would wake at night, sweating, shaken by nightmares in which Claire and I were wearing party hats, encircled by finger food and drinks, alone. My fear of only two people turning up became so bad that I changed the party to a dinner party, so it could seem like I meant it to be an intimate affair. Amazingly, of the eight people I had invited, seven came.

I felt Paris Hilton popular that night.

So yes, despite the awkward moments, I have managed to make friends in Hobart. It happened slowly, and I almost didn’t realise it, but I’ve started to feel more anchored to the city.

So my dear reader, if you relate, then here are some lessons that have served me well: 1) Be honest. At first I couldn’t admit that I was having trouble making friends, thinking that people would see the label “friendless loser” instead of my face.

But most people seemed to understand the situation and it made things easier.

2) Put yourself out there. There are a lot of sports and societies around, and it’s great to meet people with similar interests. It didn’t exactly work for me this time, but in the past team activities have really helped me find my place. Also, it is generally better to be out doing things rather than hiding in your room.

3) Don’t sell yourself short. While I’ve made a couple of jokes about being desperate, I always tried to be myself and make friends with people I genuinely wanted to spend time with. It may make it more difficult but a real friendship is worth the wait. While you wait please remember that whether it is a Hobartian whose friends have moved away or grown apart, or if it is someone new, there are other friend–searchers out there.

Photo by Jemima Phelps

Bec Chiriciello After three Canberra winters to get my Bachelor degree in International Relations, a Bolivian winter and moving to Hobart to start my Masters in Journalism, I feel the world owes me some warmth and sun and I am thoroughly ready for a posting with an NGO somewhere tropical, like the Caribbean, please.

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PROFESSIONAL TRAVELLING FOR STUDENTS Fabian Brimfield Bali is for bogans, Phuket is for pillocks and Contiki is for… well you get where I’m going. The arrival of low cost flights from Australia through airlines such as Jetstar and Virgin Blue to South East Asian tourist traps has meant that every Shazza and her de–facto are heading to Bali on a $4 sale fare, to get wrecked on cheap beer and come back with a whole lot of dodgy DVDs. I don’t blame people for picking up cheap fares when they come about. Getting more Australians, who otherwise wouldn’t, to experience different cultures is a wondrous thing. But places like Bali, Phuket and Penang have become devoid of culture. Destinations that may have been peaceful, romantic getaways ten year ago have been transformed into rows of lady–boy joints, nightclubs and streets of hagglers pushing fake Fendi.

Previously tranquil beaches are now lined with neon lights, McDonalds and throngs of loud bogans in Aussie singlets, vomiting on motorbikes.

Bogans love all this because it’s cheap. One week in Thailand costs them less than their daily petrol and fag allowance. But it’s not impossible to get cheap flights and accommodation, and avoid the bogans. This is a brief guide on how to get the most out of overseas travel.

Where to go: The obvious choice for Australian travellers is Asia. Fares to most Asian cities are reasonable, and are all around seven hours from Melbourne. Asian cities tend to be much cheaper than Australia, and have similar time zones (no jet lag!). Ditch the fake resort islands and go straight for the big cities. Hong Kong is bursting at the seams with people. Osaka is easier to navigate than Tokyo, but just as bizarre. Seoul is Tokyo’s often neglected Korean cousin, but still delivers the goods. And while you can be arrested in Singapore for chewing gum, it’s a foodie’s nirvana.

Europe is expensive, full stop. While day–to–day expenses are on par with Australia, when you’re paying for three meals a day, accommodation and flights, things get very expensive quickly. Because of this, lots of Aussies backpack around Europe, slumming it cheaply and cheerfully in friendly youth hostels. The reality is often far from it. You’ll be far too worried about how you’ll rustle up that extra euro to buy your next turnip to have a good time. Instead, spend less time in Europe and more money while you’re there.

Getting cheap flights: The cheapest way to snag a fare overseas is with a low cost carrier like Jetstar or Air Asia. Jetstar’s hub in Asia is Singapore, and Air Asia is Kuala Lumpur. From 48

Tips.

these hubs it’s easy to grab cheap fares to pretty much anywhere in Asia for less than $100. AirAsia fly to London Stansted and their premium seats are a real bargain. From London, carriers like Ryanair and Easyjet can get you to most cities in Europe for under 30 pounds. Don’t believe me? I’m writing this 35 000 feet in the sky, flying towards Singapore from Melbourne. The ticket cost me $79.

…DON’T GO BUYING A SARI JUST TO FIT IN. THERE ISN’T ANYTHING AS PAINFUL AS SEEING A TALL WHITE MAN IN A KIMONO A good fare search engine is the sharpest knife in the frequent flyers kitchen cupboard. The best one is ITA Matrix (matrix.itasoftware.com) because it operates on the same network as most travel agencies and airlines.

There are still a couple of myths about low cost carriers that seem to put people off flying them, like cheap flights are always late. Budget airlines make their money by having their aircraft constantly in the air. They’re more concerned about being on time than you are. Some also seem to think that budget airlines mean rattly old planes

that are waiting to fall out of the sky. Most, if not all low cost carriers are operating near new fleets of Airbus A320s and A330s. Their fleets are much newer than the traditional carriers, and given a few recent Qantas mishaps, possibly safer too.

Getting cheap hotels: An uncomfortable hotel in a bad location can ruin a holiday. The best resource for sussing out hotels are user testimonies. Sites like Tripadvisor.com allow users to rank, review and submit photos of hotels and also has a decent booking system. When looking at reviews, pay attention to location and cleanliness. A twenty minute walk to the bus to get to the train to get to the city is not a good location.

Don’t be afraid of “mystery” hotel deals on sites like Wotif. com.au. They are usually from large hotel chains that can’t fill up their rooms and don’t want anyone to find out.

Just like airlines, brand loyalty counts. Programs like Accor A Club and Hilton H–Honours give you free room upgrades and late checkouts once you reach a certain status.

What about hostels? When you think about it, they’re pretty poor value. You’re paying money to spend a night in a room with people you’ve never met and probably won’t like. They probably snore, you’ll have to share a 49

cold shower with them, and you’ll sleep on a thin layer of foam with a brick for a cushion. No one stays in hostels by choice, so if you can’t afford a hotel, wait till next year; you’ll enjoy it so much more.

How to avoid looking like a bogan.

Sneaker wearing, beer fuelled, bumbag–equipped bogan tourists. They can be found at every big Buddha, temple, fake market and beach. Nothing screams “mug me, I have money” like peering clueless into a giant map on a busy street. At best, the bogan traveller will probably pay too much for a fake Gucci wallet. At worst, they might be robbed, or even harmed. Here are a few tips to avoid looking like a complete victim when travelling.

Bogans seem to think that everyone in the world speaks English, and if they don’t, shout it loud enough in their faces and they’ll understand. Learn a few useful phrases before you depart. At the same time you’ll be pleasantly surprised how many people speak basic English. It’s popular among students in most places, especially Japan and China. So if you find yourself in a jam, ask the youth.

Hopefully this guide has been somewhat helpful, albeit brief. Remember that patience and planning are the biggest favours you can do yourself when planning your next trip!

Photos by Fabian Brimfield

Sneakers, bumbags, and Aussie t–shirts, flags, hats or other crap are out. Just dress like the locals, dress casual. But don’t go buying a Sari just to fit in. There isn’t anything as painful as seeing a tall white man in a Kimono.

Doing a little research before you head off is a must.

Familiarise yourself with the streets. Looking lost is a great way to get prayed on by con artists. A great free resource on destinations is the community driven Wikitravel.com. Lonely Planet guides are comprehensive, but a little too popular.

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