UniLife Magazine 21.01 by Verse Magazine

VOL. 21 NO. 1, FEB - APR 2013

FIRST TIMES

FREE

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR It’s half-past-one in the morning again, and, as always, it’s UniLife Magazine time. Only three weeks ago, Matteo, Josh, and I had no content for this issue. We had a deadline, a theme, and mad plans to fill these pages with art and the world outside university. So, we doubled the size and got a sweet new look. We started talking with Global Experience, with Gear Up, and with the marvellous International Student Representative, Kim Chau (we love Kim). Tonight, I’m sitting among towers of paper—too many articles to ever fit in one magazine—beautiful art, stunning photographs, and so many wonderful stories. We can’t thank our contributors enough for sharing their thoughts and adventures. You’ve been magical, and we’ll be in touch again. In this issue, you will travel to Hawaii, Zimbabwe, Fiji, Nepal, Qatar, Japan, and Gerrigerrup, Victoria. You’ll meet lions, musicians, and an almost-virgin. You’ll also be introduced to your student representatives (which one thinks he’s Liz Lemon?). We have a dazed Harajuku-wanderer, a real-life spy tale, tips for university life, and, most excitingly, a recipe for Apple Chew Vodka. UniLife goes far beyond activities on campus, and we want 2013 to be the year that shows that UniSA students are more than just SuperTAFE kids. We travel, we experiment, we create, and we live. Welcome to 2013. Welcome to the UniLife. All the best, Ilona Issue #2: Fantasy Deadline Mon Apr 8. Submissions to UniLife.Magazine@unisa.edu.au or walir001@mymail.unisa.edu.au

Head Editor: Ilona Wallace Web Editor: Matteo Gagliardi Graphic Designer: Josh Evans Sub-editors: Laura Clark, Ashleigh Knott, Nicolle Vale Contributors: Zenia Anderson, Anonymous, Jessica Ball, Hilda Cahyani, Kim Chau, Ben Clarke, Matteo Gagliardi, Kristen Giersch, Adrienne Gorringe, Amelia Grieve-Putland, Eleisa Hancock, Bridget Hodder, Silvia Josipovic, Rhiannon Kemp, Ashleigh Knott, Sachin R Kulkarni, Stephen McCallum, Connor McKenzie, Ryan Mallett-Outtrim, Jacinta Mazzarolo, Amirul Muhamat, Hoa Nguyen, Sam Smith, SheyWei Soo, Nicolle Vale, Ilona Wallace, and Tara Zubrinich. Cover: Helen Sherriff, Last, 2012, Oil and Acrylic on Chair Artists & illustrators: Alyshia Jane Eming, Gabriel Cole, Helen Sherriff, Jake Smith, Jessica Johnson, Julia Sniatynskyj, Kate Alexandra Filsell, Kerie Tonkin, Thi Hoang Tram Le, Tyson Modistach, Steph Fuller, Special thanks to: Stephen McCallum, Kim Chau, Tom Angley, Samuel Smith, Keith Rudkin, the UniLife Student Representatives, Ball Park Music, The Salvadors, Hungry Kids Of Hungary, Kaylee George, and all the contributors whose stories we just couldn’t fit in this issue.

CONTENTS UniSA Visual Art and Design Showcase

FIRST TIMES The First Times You Can Expect at UniSA

Among Saints 13 Big City Life 14 Lost (and Found) in Translation

The First Time I Thought Would be my First Time

Our Turn to Run the World

GENERAL INTEREST Apple Chew Voda Recipe 25 Giddy-Up, Gear Up! 26 Melding Sounds 28 Mature is Optional 30 I Spy a Spy 32 UNISA AROUND THE WORLD A Letter from Kim Chau

Your Story Winner: Shey Wei Soo

Your Story Runner-Up: Amuril Muhamat 40 Photo Competion Winner: Hilda Cahyani 41 Walking With Lions: Learning my ABDDDâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s

The Shanghai Experience 45 Humanity in the Hymalayas 46 My Arabian Nights in a Standing Market

Try it, You Might Like it

The Deep End 52 Aloha Penumonia 54 LOVE FROM UNILIFE UniLife President Farewell 57 A Welcome To Commencing Students

UniLife Representatve Profiles

Clubs: Should They Stay, or Should They go?

Calendar 62

ulia

are

Mations, 201

alla

Ins

tur

it rch

ni ry S

h mitdel, 2012 S o e

sk tyn

rd Ca

tat

a sa,

nie e Print

a ph

Ste

lĂŠ

Gic

title

12 , 20

kin d on - Resin an T 2 ie

1 r Ke mbers, 20 a

le Ful

e Ste

rd ole teboa

See more: Piarate Material Opening 7-11pm, 22 Feb, 2013 22 Ebenezer Place, Adelaide

ka 2, s elul,C i 201 r b tif

Gfeais Besainu Li d re an

ram

T nd ng Max Re

oa 2 - 3Ds H i Th B, 201 e

Lou

eri

lic

cry

,a ck

ta dis

Mon Canvas n so il o

t, Mis

201

ing anvas

m eE

a J, 2013 - A i h lys ion

rcu

e ep

li cry

See more: It Was So Red I Had to Press It Opening 6 - 8pm, 12 Feb, 2013 Exeter Hotel, 246 Rundle Street Adelaide

l sel

il eF

Ka 2

ers

g Fin

12 , 20

-O

C l on

son

n urs, Ink h o J Colo

la s, B

ica- Water s s Je 012 e,

FIRST TIMES

UNILIFE

THE ‘FIRST TIMES’ YOU CAN EXPECT AT UNISA Writer_ Nicolle Vale

o, it is that time of year again. The wave of lectures, tutorials, and assignments is fast approaching and it is time to prepare ourselves for the start of a new academic year. It is around this time that many of us are dragging ourselves up from the nurturing floors of festivals, pubs, bedrooms, and beaches, shaking off our hangovers and slapping our brains out of their summer hibernation. Those of us beyond our first year of uni can look forward to being one year closer to graduation and the amusing spectacle of newcomers who decide to wear stilettos to class. For those who are new to university, it can be a nerve-wracking, confusing, hectic and exciting time that’s full of new experiences. You may be at any one of the UniSA campuses, each with their own different atmospheres and characteristics. There’s Magill with its lush gardens and creek, lack of crowds, and cheap parking; City West with its unique culture, art galleries, and the recently renovated Academy bar; City East with its proximity to the mall and various bars and eateries; Mawson Lakes with its modern, well-manicured design, cheap parking, and planetarium; and of course, there are UniSA’s distant and mysterious rural campuses. Whichever campus you’re frequenting, there are many first time experiences that are universal to all new students and, as your local tellers of the truth, we are here to enlighten you. Your first time enrolling I warn you, enrolment is a dreadfully confusing time in your first year and it doesn’t get much better throughout your degree. Always be sure to make a timetable plan before the enrolment open date so you know exactly what classes you want and have the best chance of getting into them. Another tip is to be at a computer before 9am on the day your courses open for enrolment. This will ensure as few problems as possible. Your first week of classes Don’t stress about your first week of uni work. You realise quite early on in your degree that the first week of classes are usually a big bludge. They will involve a brief explanation of your assignments for the semester and a lot of chatting and getting to know your classmates. This is perfect for making friends in your first year and by your third year you might even know everyone’s hobbies off by heart. The first friends you make Speaking of making friends—be sure to make many, many new ones! It’s not advantageous to stick with your one friend or posse and be standoffish to everyone else. Chances are, you will end up in a class without them anyway so it’s better to know a few friendly faces around the place. The first time you get lost This is a fact for all uni newcomers. At some point you will get lost, no matter which campus you attend. Campus maps do exist, however, they show you the building names and not the classroom numbers. If you are a lucky lost person, fate might take you to a bar or Aroma instead of class, or maybe to Magill’s secret balcony garden (shhh, it’s seeecret).

The first time you attend a cancelled class There will be an embarrassing and annoying moment in your uni life in which you will sit in a classroom or lecture hall for half an hour and wonder why you’re the only one there. Either you are in the wrong place or your class has been cancelled. Silly billy. The first time you forget your USB An even more annoying experience will be when you forget to remove your USB from a uni computer, despite the shrieking alarm that goes off. By the time you get back there, it may be gone. You will go, feeling hopeful, to the security hub and search through lost and found. Either you will be lucky and find it or you won’t and instead security will give you five old lost USBs that they were about to throw out. A few other ‘first times’ you may experience at uni include: • Taking your place in the great fight that all UniSA-goers must endure; the ‘UniSA not SuperTAFE’ debate. • Experiencing your first time living solely off of two-minute noodles, beer, and coffee. • Participating in your first heated uni debate. Or watching the more entertaining spectacle of two overconfident know-it-alls go at it in a never-ending battle of knowledge. • Doing hardly any work throughout the term but transforming into a crazed, intellectual hermit crab come exam time. • Attending your first pub crawl! (Make sure to check out the Adelaide Uni Engineering Society’s pub crawl held early every year… but…um…UniSA ones are better. Of course!) It is likely you will get drunk at pub crawls, at a uni bar or any nearby pub. You might go to the Masked Ball, a UniSA BBQ, a degree-specific dinner or quiz night. You will experience lovely lecturers, evil lecturers and crazy lecturers. You might get HDs or Fs (hopefully more of the former). You can join clubs, groups, councils, sports teams or even write for this magazine! There are so many new things you’ll experience at university that we can’t even fit them all in this article. It is up to you to make the most of your time at UniSA. Make a uni bucket list if it helps. Above all, have fun, pass your courses, and hug every uni mascot you see. Obviously.

AMONG SAINTS Writer_ Silvia Josipovic

ENIS WEED COITUS VODKA CRUISERS. Controversy was never my strong suit so that is, unfortunately, as scandalous as this article gets. But now that I have your attention, I should very much like to tell you of a magical place. A place where the sea meets rolling green plains and where a giant pirate ship sits marooned on the shore. A place where children frolic freely and adults are catapulted back to their glory days. This is as good as the Neverland J. M. Barrie envisioned. I am, of course, referring to the St Kilda adventure playground. Everyone has heard of it. Everyone, it seems, except me. For most, their first time would have been in their formative years. Maybe you were four or five. Maybe it was the summer holidays. Maybe you were strapped in the back seat of the car, ice cream in hand, whining throughout the 40-odd-minute drive. I was 19 going on 20. It was an unseasonably warm winter’s day. It was also my birthday. I had my best friend at the wheel and was nursing an existential crisis in lieu of the ice cream. “I’m taking you somewhere where we can reclaim your youth,” she declared. “Mm-hmm,” I mumbled solemnly, taking in the scenery. Industrial sites gave way to dirt which gave way to salt lagoons which gave way to more dirt. The freeway was unnervingly quiet for a Saturday. I’d never ventured this way before and I was certain I was going to die. We were surely going to be greeted at our destination by a machete-wielding copycat Ivan Milat. I managed to contain my anxiety attack long enough for us to pull up in the car park, whereupon I was greeted by a majestic sight. Slides that wound themselves around a giant wooden castle; a flying fox that stretched seemingly from one end of the park to the other; and the pirate ship, MY GOD THE PIRATE SHIP. This is a place, I thought to myself. This is a place, and my parents never brought me here. The only logical explanation is that they didn’t love me. But I had plenty of time to wallow over my deprived childhood on the drive home. It occurred to me as I ran clumsily across the uneven terrain that I was not appropriately dressed. But I wasn’t going to let some stocking-and-skirt ensemble stop me. I did it all. I had no shame. I stumbled aboard the ship and assumed my rightful position as Captain. I crawled through muddy tunnels and up decaying wooden stairs. I glided down slides; static itching at my legs, only to be met at the bottom by a line of disproving glares. FUCK DA POLICE! I screeched mentally, running for the flying fox. The long line was fostered by a number of queuecutters, but given it is socially unacceptable to screech at children ten years younger than you to get to the back of the line, I was forced to internalise my rage. The wait was worth it, I decided, as I soared rather ungracefully through the air. The salty breeze whipping at my hair, blisters blossoming on my hands, muscles screeching from years of neglect. I was youth. I was joy. I was a little bird that had broken out of the egg. And it was pretty damn awesome.

BIG CITY LIFE Writer_ Jessica Ball

lmost three years ago I made the seven-hour car trip from the farm I called home in Gerrigerrup, Victoria to the halls of an Adelaide University Residential College to make my new beginning.

At 19, no gap year and no life experience outside a boarding house, the farm and the town’s one and only night club, I quickly found myself in completely new surroundings. Gone were the days of riding a motorbike to the mailbox. Gone were the pet calves, and the lamb roast dinners—dinners that Dad had raised and killed himself. Along came the days when uni assignments took a back seat to pub nights, when goon was considered an acceptable drink, and when no one told me off if I didn’t make my bed—or get out of it. The risks—deadly snake bites or destructive bushfires—were quickly replaced by the human threats of city life: lonely walks home from Hindley Street, and frightening sexual assaults in my new backyard, North Adelaide. My first week in Adelaide was an O-week blur. From what I’m told there were pub crawls, half-made togas, unanswered quiz night sheets, and a formal dinner I didn’t quite see the end of. Cruisers were quickly replaced as my drink of choice by any cheaper alternative—vodka raspberry, goon straight from the box, cider, passion pop, beer and even red wine. Not only because Cruisers doubled in price as soon as I exited my last country bumpkin pub, but I was also promptly told by the girl down the hall that they were not the drink of a uni student. But no matter what, these many drinks were followed by water and some unfortunate person given the task of putting me to bed when my pathetic drinking ability failed me. Week one: vomit-filled nights followed by hung-over days, a burst blood vessel, visits to the doctor, suspected fractured facial bones and x-rays. I quickly realised that new experiences and firsts were not going to few and far between. My first tests of Adelaide’s public transport left much to be desired. After consuming a lethal mix of goon for breakfast after a late night exploring the Torrens, I sat at what I thought was the bus stop that would take me to Magill. After waiting for an hour, I gave up, walked home, crawled into bed, slept off my hangover and told myself I would attempt it again another day. I will never know what was taught in Orientation Week, but I hope it wasn’t as important as the Sex Ed class Cady Heron missed in Mean Girls. After getting some better travel advice, and leaving a few hours early, I managed to make it to my first day of uni the following week. Despite my lack of student ID the bus driver showed me some old-fashioned country hospitality and let me pay the concession fair. The photo for said ID would later be taken, burst blood vessel in the eye and all. Growing up in a small country town, kids who weren’t born and bred in our area were a novelty. Students from other cultural backgrounds? They were basically non-existent. The lone South Australian who decided to venture over the border was eternally dubbed “Lay-go” after we discovered his mispronunciation of the beloved “Leg-o”. Sitting in my first International Relations

class and even just walking down Rundle Mall was an eye-opener. Beach trips swiftly replaced motorbike rides around the farm. Rundle Mall, Marion, and Harbour Town far outweighed Hamilton’s lonely dress shop, and the choice of night clubs can only be compared to lollies laid out in front of an eager child. As can be expected, The Woolshed and its mechanical bull became repetitive bad life choices that seemed like a good idea at the time. Adelaide Metro may continue to make me late to uni, particularly for 9am French tutorials, but then the bright orange school bus I took from prep to Year 12 also had a knack of breaking down and leaving us to the mercy of the very bus my 50-yearold mother used to take. The Torrens will never match the picturesque landscapes of the area I will always call home—if only because I flatly refuse to identify as a South Australian or lose my shiny Victorian drivers license—but the ten minute walk to Australian Pizza House will always beat the 15 minute drive to the nearest milk bar.

LOST (AND FOUND) IN TRANSLATION Writer_ Sam Smith

he second I exited Harajuku train station, my vocabulary reduced itself to three words: “Oh my god.” As far as the eye could see, shops thrust their way into the desperate grasp of ravenous consumers. Not unlike high school students at a grade twelve formal, each store was decorated to the utmost level of ridiculousness in order to capture the attention and wallets of eager onlookers. What lay ahead of me made the previous day’s trip to Tokyo seem like a stroll to the local grocery store. I glanced at my travel partner and sheepishly grinned, trying to hold back the full extent of my excitement. My glance was met with a wide-eyed look of awe, as we shared our disbelief and prepared to immerse ourselves in a world of teetering skyscrapers, blaring techno music, blazing neon lights, gigantic stuffed animals, and pink-haired shop assistants. To my left beckoned a clothing store, fittingly named Mad Hectic. A menacing-looking four-storey building sprawled itself out in front of me, adorned with what would have had to be at least two thirds of Tokyo’s neon lighting quota. In a last-ditch effort to maintain my sanity and the contents of my wallet, I attempted to ridicule its nonsensical title. “Hah, what a joke!” I scoffed, trying to keep up a sensible

shopper façade. Seconds later I found myself entering the store and mysteriously emerging with five shirts, a pair of pants, and no memory of anything that happened in the previous thirty minutes. After doing some irreparable damage to the contents of our wallets and getting laughed at by locals for our bizarre tourist behavior—“LOOK AT THE PATTERN ON THE SEWER COVER! LET’S TAKE A PICTURE!”— we decided it was time for a wellearned break in one of Harajuku’s famous crepe cafés. Once inside, Harajuku syndrome struck again. Thirty minutes later we emerged dazed, confused, and wondering why we had decided to order and inhale a ‘crepe cheesecake sensation’ each. If by chance you’re wondering what this specifically contains, I will put my guilt aside and enlighten you. A crepe cheesecake sensation consists of a crepe (sensible enough), covered in maple syrup (slightly sugary, yet acceptable), smothered in vanilla ice cream (okay, enough now), sprinkled with chocolate buttons (time to search family history for diabetes), topped off with a slice of cheesecake. We have no idea how we are still alive either. We spent the rest of our time in Harajuku asking each other where the pancreas is located, looking up ‘signs of diabetes’ on the internet, and being asked to become hair models by a Japanese woman with

a faux British accent. After all of this, we still managed to find time to wine and dine at the BBQ Ranch Wicked Wings All You Can Eat Buffet, which was located on top of a skyscraper, overlooking a twenty-storey high giant robot replica and a mini golf course.

THE FIRST TIME I THOUGHT WOULD BE MY FIRST TIME

Writer_ Anonymous

Artist_ Josh Evans

he first time I thought would be my first time, didn’t go exactly to plan. A combination of the wrong boy, his words, and an uncomfortable fit all led to the downfall of my cherrypoppin’ plan. Having seen a motion picture or two and read some teen novels in my time, at 19 I figured I must have been the last girl on earth to have not done the nasty. Imagine, almost 20, and not one pregnancy scare had wracked my girly bits. I was clearly destined to die alone, perhaps with photographs of cats that had once been mine but had seen the light and run away. There was no need for a chastity belt—I was the Human Contreceptor, exterminating desire at every hideous turn. And then—a boy! A sweet, tipsy boy. This boy—who I soon found out was actually a man, older than me by a number that required two hands to count—was lovely, in an untidy way. Admittedly, he didn’t make it to that first date we organised … nor the second or third, but baby, he kept calling and I took Bieber’s advice and never said never. The night finally came. He had cancelled our movie date earlier that day, but at 2am my phone rang. “I miss you,” he said. “I’m sorry,” he said. Ten minutes later I was at his house. For a man who was nearing 30, he lived like a 14-year-old boy. To this day, I have never seen mess like it. There were tectonic plates of rubbish that shifted around his room, colliding with miniature earthquakes that spewed dirty shirts and undefinable detritus across the carpet. Luckily, his bed was close enough to the door of his room that I didn’t have to put my feet on the living mass that was his floor. (I did, later, lose my bra in there. I swear it was consumed by a creature of the deep.) Knowing this was a booty call (HURRAH, thought I. I HAVE BOOTY WORTH CALLING), I did think it sweet when he put on a film to make the ’movie date’ charade a little more real. However, I thought it less sweet that the film he chose was a gritty terrorism thriller that revolved around blowing foreigners to pieces in the name of ‘Merica ‘n’ justice ‘n’ shit. Romance never died, sisters, it just got distracted by military-grade weaponry. The plot was mildly interesting, so we spooned away and watched until suddenly everything went dark. No, there was no blackout. No, there was no problem with the movie. Prince Charming just stretched my shirt over my head, where it got stuck on my face. This boy dashed many of my fantasies that day—in particular the myth that ’older guys’ know what they’re doing. Well, this older guy had had some girlfriends who let him get away with a

Poor on their Sexual Satisfaction review. There was biting raw of parts that didn’t enjoy being bitten. There were fingers jamming away and stubble chafing a lifetime’s supply of skin off my face. Just to make it stop (and perhaps he was more cunning than I gave him credit for) I turned the tables and offered him a blowjob. “Please stop what you are doing, I would prefer to have your penis in my mouth than for you to ever try and pleasure me again, thank you.” And here is where his kind words come in to play. Gentlemen, if a lady ever tells you, mid-slurp, that she has never had a sexual reproductive organ in her mouth, then the polite thing to say is definitely not “No shit?? Seems like you’ve done it heaps of times!” Do not backhand-compliment a girl while she has your tender parts between your teeth. After providing a slag-worthy show of lip service, my man then grabbed my arms, dragged me onto my back on the mattress and he settled down for a tussle. After reminding him that condoms exist (and then watching in horror as he dug around on the floor for a packet) he again settled in for the show. And then PAIN. If you are a girl, you may know this pain. If you don’t know the pain of a virgin being de-virginised, put your fingers in your mouth and pull your lips as far sideways as you can. Do you feel that pulling, tearing, stretching sensation? Imagine that times a billion in your sensitive cellar parts. My man was in turns delighted and bemused by the achingly slow and uncomfortable struggle to conquer my castle—although, his comments about how he “must be the biggest thing you’ve ever seen!” were wholly unnecessary. It was at this stage that I replied, “You’re the only thing I’ve ever seen.” He stopped. Lodged in, but out, he trembled on his man-arms then scuttled backwards down the bed (the emergency ejection also hurt, thank you). “Oh, no,” he said. “Aw, sorry,” he said. “Shit. I don’t do virgins.” And so, the great romance of the 21st Century was over. He kept my bra and my dignity, and I left confused about whether I was still technically a paragon of purity or whether I was a buffet

sandwich that someone selected, then rejected, remembering at the last minute that they hated that particular filling. Thank you for your application, but the board has reviewed the submissions and yours was unsuccessful. We appreciate your call, but we have no vacancies at this time. Feel free to leave your contact details, and if an offer appears in future, we will endeavour to contact you. Your V-Card has been declined. Please re-issue to user. No refunds or exchanges are permitted for this item. Well, fuck.

JOB JEOPARDY Writer_ Sachin R Kulkarni

Two weeks ago, I was told of an opportunity to showcase my writing in the form of an article for UniLife Magazine about the first time I experienced a work placement. I spent hours crafting a literary masterpiece, but a feeling of disconnection came over me. I decided to send my first draft off to its Home Sweet Home – the trash bin – and started again.. At the end of November, desperately waiting for holidays, I felt freedom swarming to my doorstep. But, just like it occurs in countless TV dramas, a hunger to learn remained. Four weeks of group work with one of my closest friends, an opportunity to venture into the realm of project management, and the desire to constantly work myself hard lured me into accepting a work placement block in December. Running in this sweltering sun, the knight – me – finally reached his newly built castle – the office. Being a very open-minded student, I had gone into the company with no preconceived notions about the state of the office. But I can guarantee it would have fallen short of anybody’s expectations. Every computer, if they did turn on, ran Windows 98 at the pace of a lazy snail. The irony? It was a firm that produced advanced software packages. As if that wasn’t enough, this is how my first day and almost every day of work placement went … In the pixie-sized room of Mr. CEO, eight enthusiastic and dedicated students occupied every piece of carpet available. Then I emerged with a chair and a confused expression adorning my face. Without delay, room was made for me, and the meeting commenced. Words flew across the room with rising enthusiasm increasing volume and a sense of challenge filling the air … wait … no. Not really. What should have been considered interactive fell short of participation. Constant interruption that went on for what seemed like hours was the main content of the ‘meeting’. Mr. CEO’s unilateral thought giving was advice, not a discussion. With meetings like this, computers that didn’t work, and a desk that constantly ejected the draws like the ones in not-so-freaky horror movies, the entire environment seemed polluted with problems. How was one supposed to work? The truth is, while there were problems, the even bigger problem was my attitude. Consider the same aspects this way: a CEO taking time to explain to his students the ways of business, despite his busy schedule; a firm that was struggling to use those few old computers yet still emerging as a successful maker of software packages. Yes, my friends, the problem was neither the office, nor the computers; the problem was inside my head. In retrospect it may seem easy to reflect on it, but I spent four weeks with the wrong perception, in the wrong mood, doing the wrong work. But the only moment of satisfaction remains the moment when I realised the job wasn’t the reason for the jeopardy, it was me. And by laying my experience out in words, this positive thought found its way to my consciousness. So, I hope you all keep a positive lens to your eyes and turn problems into opportunities, not jeopardy. Never another job jeopardy again.

OUR TURN TO RUN THE WORLD Writer_ Rhiannon Kemp Artist_ Helen Sherriff

hen we become the new generation of world leaders, we will reminisce back on the first time we ran the world. We were young, fresh faced and eager to leave our names in the markings of history. Our minds were full of purpose and our hearts were determined to make a difference, there would be no returning to our lives of normality after what we were set to encounter. This is how we will remember attending The World Model United Nations Conference. WorldMUN, as the conference is also known, is held every year by varying Universities around the globe and offers potential diplomats, world leaders, and change-makers an opportunity to get a first taste at running the world. And we at the UniSA United Nations Society are jumping at that opportunity once again in March, when it comes to Melbourne. The popular Model UN was founded, and is co-hosted every year, by the famous and prestigious Harvard University in the USA. This year, La Trobe University students fought fiercely to gain international recognition and the chance to co-host WorldMUN 2013, slimly beating a popular university in Madrid, Spain. It will be the first time the event is to be hosted on Australian soil. In 2012, the UniSA United Nations Society took a small delegation of four to Vancouver, Canada to participate in the week-long event. This time around, the UniSA United Nations Society delegation includes 12 students studying in the fields of journalism, law, international relations and communications. These delegates, some first timers, others veterans in the fast paced world of MUN, will be spread out over seven committees representing the two African nations of Ghana and Somalia. Committees range from political disarmament to protection of cultures in second world nations, to a historical general assembly looking at Lebanon in the 1950s. From public speaking, to debating, to writing a UN style resolution and then voting down every other resolution your nation doesn’t agree with, the skills our delegates gain at WorldMUN conferences will undeniably assist them in their quest to become the next Barack Obama or even the next Ban Ki-moon. This is where we will have begun our lives as those who run the world. In the words George Orwell, author of one of my most precious childhood books and godfather of political paranoia, “By lack of understanding they remained sane. They simply swallowed everything and what they swallowed did them no harm because it left no residue behind, just as a grain of corn will pass undigested through the body of a bird.” Along with writing a rhythm to the words ‘four legs good, two legs bad’, Orwell made undeniable insights into the political world far beyond his time. If we do not ask questions about what is happening in our country and others surrounding us, then how do we expect to make this a better world for our children?

When questioning the agendas and systems of governmental mistreatment, even if it were just about three ironically named power-hungry pigs ruling Manor Farm, Orwell opens up your mind to what happens in the real life of international politics. Personally, I do not want to remain sane and take in everything I am given. I choose instead, like so many of my colleagues and peers at University, to question, understand and refuse to stand for something that I don’t believe will help save the world. The UniSA United Nations Society is now in its seventh year and has worked to bring students many events and opportunities in this time, including the South Australian Model United Nations Conference, or ‘SAMUNC’, every September with our co-hosts at the University of Adelaide. Envisioning the ideals of MUN and knowing the benefits they bring to any student or graduate, especially in the field of International Relations, the UniSA UN Society aims to help tomorrow’s leaders begin running the world. Some people were built to be construction workers, others were bound for the sea, some have the knowledge to be historians, others have the stomach for the medical world and some, a select few, were destined to change the world. But their journeys had to begin somewhere; and for many, WorldMUN was, or will be, their first time trying to take the lead. Follow the UN Society on Twitter or Facebook for more information about events run throughout the year and MUNs in Australia and abroad.

GENERAL INTEREST

UNILIFE

RECIPE - APPLE CHEW VODKA Writer_ Silvia Josipovic

Artist_ Josh Evans

ooking for a more creative way of getting your two and five? Or perhaps you’re just after more delicious means of getting outrageously drunk on a budget? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Apple Chew Vodka—one of my quickest and alltime favourite homebrews. What are Apple Chews, you say? SHAME ON YOU. Only the greatest lolly there ever was ever. And today, we unite them with an old friend: alcohol. In reaching Apple Chew Nirvana, you will require: 1x bag of Apple Chews (a little hard to come by these days, but I have it on good authority—my own authority, in fact—that a number of Drakes supermarkets still sell them) 1x bottle of vodka 1x bottle of lemonade Some ice, ice, baby To infuse the vodka with Apple Chew-y deliciousness, add as many lollies as you desire to the vodka. Of course, the more you add, and the longer you allow the lollies to stew in the spirit, the more intense the flavour. If patience is not your forté, half an hour usually achieves a pleasing result. In mixing the drink, you must work to your taste. Fill a glass with some ice, add the vodka and Apple Chews, and add some lemonade. Voilà! Sure, Heston Blumenthal would probably turn his nose up at the overwhelming simplicity of it, but dayum does it taste good.

GIDDY-UP GEAR UP! Writer_ Ilona Wallace

Artist_ Josh Evans

n orientation day many summers past, we fresh-faced newbies were greeted with sign-up sheets for the Evangelical Society, the Abstinence Club, and the hockey team (all one-in-the-same, really). There was a rock-climbing wall and someone in a fluorescent yellow shirt handing out condoms. For years and years, UniSA students have whinged that there’s no atmosphere, no campus culture, and no super-hot O-Week celebration to get our hearts and minds pumped for the academic year ahead. Whinge no more! Gear Up is gathering steam and will be singing in study period two at City West from midday on Wednesday, February 27. Featuring a stellar line-up (Ball Park Music, Hungry Kids of Hungary, The Salvadors, Asta, Koolta, and a stupendous string of student acts), ‘crazy, fun’ visual art installations, and secret pop-up performances, Gear Up is hoping to draw up to 4000 students to celebrate the start of semester. We’ve been complaining for a long time, and finally our whines have been answered—though Tom Opie from The Salvadors remembers ‘watching people drink too much milk and throw up’ at O-Week parties, so maybe we haven’t been missing much. Kaylee George, the Student Experience Project Officer from Gear Up, explains how it came to be. ‘The festival concept has been discussed for over three years,’ she says. Over the last eighteen months, the idea for the festival began to take shape, and plans started rolling six months ago.

‘UniSA wanted to offer commencing [and returning] students an exciting and fun welcoming experience to the uni,’ George says. ‘We started with the concept of a Commencement Ceremony […] where students have a formal introduction to the university in gowns and then they go on to a welcome party after. We really liked the party idea and wanted to create something special for students at UniSA.’ Luckily, they scrapped the formal occasion and skipped straight to the party (they really do know what students want). Opie is digging the ‘good fun vibe’ of the line-up, and is looking forward to a ‘super fun day’. The Salvadors, who recently performed at Echo Festival in Mt Barker, are always keen to get involved with South Australian music projects, and this festival was another chance to play alongside some of the hottest local and national talent. Dean McGrath (Hungry Kids Of Hungary) says that when the band was approached about Gear Up, they jumped at the chance. ‘I remember some of my favourite times at uni were hanging at the guild bars seeing bands, so I’m pumped to be involved.’ In fact, McGrath’s first licensed gig was at a Queensland University of Technology guild bar, years ago. He remembers it being ‘rowdy and fun, and having to load out through the crowd, which was interesting’. Ball Park Music had a similar first-gig experience, with bassist Jennifer Boyce

recalling, ‘We were in first year, and one of the third-year bands had pulled out, so we were asked to play. It was confusing and busy and we probably didn’t play very well ... but we must have done okay because we got some more shows out of it!’ An event of Gear Up’s size has taken dozens of people to organise and endless time navigating bureaucratic processes. George dodged our question about the total cost of the event, saying, ‘We are doing our best to make it a great show so that students get an awesome UniSA experience right up front, and think it is a worthwhile investment for the uni to make’. Read: it cost a fuckload, so be grateful and supportive, okay? It’s a fantastic feeling to finally be falling into line behind the rest of the more social universities, and Boyce shares the UniSA student enthusiasm ‘We’ve played at a few O-Week celebrations before,’ she says, ‘but only in NSW and QLD ... so we were stoked that SA is getting in on the fun too! These celebrations are always heaps of fun for everyone involved and we love to see all the students having a great time before uni starts back.’

and subject areas—sometimes they like to host cheeky parties, pub-crawls, and even formal occasions. Opie is all for campus culture, telling students and universities to get on board with as many social activities as possible. ‘Give people options,’ he says, ‘and encourage people to get involved in absolutely anything and everything from the Lion Taming Society to Stamp Collection Club.’

As for McGrath, he says, ‘We like to party. I dare say at least half the band will be at the bar ten minutes post-show. See you there!’ Gear Up will start at midday on Wed Feb 27, at City West. UniSA students can register for free tickets at: http://gearup2013.eventbrite.com/

Once Gear Up is over, don’t think for a second that UniSA’s social calendar is empty for the rest of 2013. The student markets will be back again, and the UniLife Ball will satisfy any urges for some masked mischief later in the year. The Academy will be live and kicking once more, if you’re seeking cheap coffee and a cosy bar. Keep updated with the societies and clubs in your own faculties

MELDING SOUNDS Writer_ Ashleigh Knott

Artist_ Julia Mary Sniatynskyj

ix-CDs: made for lovers and friends, created with passion and linked together by theme, mood or nothing at all. Who doesn’t adore getting one? With a handwritten track list and a case personally decorated with anything the maker could find, you’re even willing to forgive them for having a bad taste in music just so you can soak in the love that comes with receiving something made with only you in mind. I make a lot of mix-CDs. Sometimes I make them with no purpose at all—with no one in mind and no thought, no apparent point at all, behind them. But it gives me joy and it’s something to do to pass the hours. It’s fair to say that, at times, I become a tad obsessive with introducing friends, potential lovers or almost-strangers to my musical passions. I spend hours drafting a playlist, adding and subtracting songs, and getting so carried away with it that I have enough music to fill as many as seven discs. I choose a particular tone or mood, perhaps even a country of origin or style of music, or a playlist which is as off-beat as possible so that no one would have ever heard all the songs, let alone heard them strung together. Rarely do I confine myself to one particular musical era either, especially for the all-important first mix-CD I give someone, when impressions are so vital—when friendships and loves are lost or won. I have what I believe to be odd ways of compiling. I like to think I have a complex storyboard inside my head, carefully laid out on a physical disc to take the listener on a journey full of emotions of joy and sadness and moments of elation and sombreness. But really, with an impending deadline of a promised CD coming up, I sometimes choose songs I know well and skip from the end of one to the beginning of another, to match each song in the hope of making them flow into each other. Alternatively, I may listen to all the tracks and rate them—from one to three—depending on how melodic or heavy they are. I then determine, based on these ratings, where they’ll be positioned on that storyboard in order to create the almighty mix. The problem is, sometimes I tire of it. My devotion is short lived. It’s probably because I always imagine that my forthcoming CD will come together with ease, that it will effortlessly result in a sequence of entrancingly brilliant sounds, enough to lull or stir or evoke anyone’s emotions. But when I realise how much effort, repetition and fine-tuning are required, or that my goal seems unobtainable, the fun diminishes. And no matter how much dedication I put into it, I cannot force cheeky 1920s songs to flow into dubstep and then into gypsy tunes, no matter how hard I try. When my interest falters, I usually feel it necessary to establish, then analyse, my aims for the mix I’m trying to create—as well as whether I should care at all if it is simply a collection of songs I think the recipient may delight in. It’s usually just spurred by the desire to create something

great, as flawless as possible. It’s like painting your house—rarely do people notice it’s been done unless the smell of paint still lingers. And you can’t expect them to see the attention you’ve paid to the ceiling or keeping splatters off the skirting. But living within those flawlessly painted walls—knowing the trials that you went through to get it done well—makes you appreciate the job. You know what a disaster it could have been if things had gone differently. The same thing applies with me and my mixes. So, why do I make mix-CDs? To impress, prove my coolness, spread the word on amazing musicians (Kid Harpoon sneakily makes his way onto near every introductory mix, dig it), send a message, implant emotions, and show I think the recipients are worth all the effort. Really, what I should learn is that perfection isn’t always obtainable. This doesn’t mean that my expectations should fall or I shouldn’t try. It’s supposed to be a journey that extends from me creating a mix to someone else hearing it—and this second part is more important.

MATURE IS OPTIONAL Writer_ Adrienne Gorringe

am one of those pesky students who pop up from time to time in your tutes. Over 30, motherof-two (albeit they are 20 and 16) and too much life experience that I willingly share. ‘Mature age’ is the label, but really we are just older, mature is optional.

Most of my study has been done externally. I work, study, and parent full-time. I’m a mum, a youth worker, a manager, a student, a wife, a friend, a daughter, and I’ve probably been labelled a number of other things. So finding time to attend lectures and tutes is really not on the agenda. On the rare occasion when I do manage to squish in a face-to-face class I need to make the most of it. I’m also used to being heard—at work I’m a manager, at home I’m a matriarch, so you can imagine it’s hard to come into a room where you are suddenly in a minority and tagged with a label before your butt even hit the seat. It’s really interesting how much time people spend making sure that minority groups are never labelled, but how much trouble they have recognising one in their midst. I should probably also point out that I am not studying to further my career, nor because I’ve been a stay-at-home-mum for 20 years, nor because I am searching for the meaning of life. For the best part of my adulthood I’ve worked fulltime and I am already at the top of where I want to be in my current job. I’m still studying because I’ve finally worked out what I want to be when I grow up (for the fourth time). I figure I’ll get there in about eight years and then I’ll probably start searching for the next thing that I want to be. I’ll be even older by then, and maybe the maturity will follow—or maybe not. I love having the freedom to reinvent myself every so often. Every year I learn more about who I am, what I like, what I don’t like and what I’m interested in, and every year the world changes just a little bit – bringing new things to explore and learn about. I love learning and I don’t ever want to stop. In the last year of my degree (2012) I got lucky. I had the ultimate student experience. I took the Professional Development course, a part of the Global Experience program, in Vietnam. Out of 15 students, only four of us were over 25 and I came in second oldest at 39. I don’t know if it was the excitement of the trip, all of us being outside our comfort zone, or just incredible luck at getting to study with an amazing group of people, but within hours I knew that there was no ‘mature age’ tag with this group. From start to finish it was an experience that I will remember for the rest of my life. We talked, we laughed and some of us even cried. I think somewhere along the way we learned—but through the entire experience, we shared. I think I received as much information and advice as I gave, and I found myself walking away from the experience with the feeling that the world is in good hands for the future. The experience also made me realise that I might tag myself with the ‘mature age’ label more than others tag me with it, and perhaps I also tag others with the ‘school leaver’ label. This is something I’m going to work on. Perhaps my training and experience as a youth worker makes me a little different from most ‘mature age’ students. Perhaps it’s because my kids are of a similar age to the majority of the student population. But I don’t think so. I think the only thing that makes me different from others in my ‘category’ is that I have had the experience of travelling overseas with an amazing group of people of all ages and I’ve learnt about them and about myself along the way.

MUSIC WILL SHAPE WHO YOU ARE Writer_ Bridget Fahey Hodder

Artist_ Josh Evans

ver since I could hit things with spoons, I have loved music. It can express something words cannot, but it can also shape who you are. My friend’s dad, who was also a friend of mine, passed away this year after a very brave battle with cancer. He was a brilliant father, husband, musician, friend, and Vespa enthusiast. I had known him and his daughter since I was ten and had had the privilege of getting a few guitar lessons out of him. The lesson I remember the most, and which always makes me laugh, is when he just yelled “Arch your bloody fingers!” at me because I was in a terrible punk band and could only play three chords.

showed me that you can never have enough instruments and you can never stop learning. I have now taken up, not only guitar and bass guitar, but also the mandolin, the ukulele and the harmonica. The ukulele travelled all over Europe with me. It even saved me when I ran out of money and had to busk in Munich, Amsterdam, and Venice. Granted, we mainly used the proceeds for beer, but hey, that’s Europe. He will be missed and frequently thought of whenever I watch Father Ted or Seinfeld. I’d like to dedicate every hint of sarcasm, dry wit, and tune I play (well) to him because I’d be a very different person if he had not been in my life.

His daughter and I remain close friends to this day. We created many bands over the years but the one I remember fondest was our folk/punk duet. Rarely did we play a gig in a proper venue, preferring to do alleyway shows for our friends in car parks, parklands, and gazebos, under bridges and on top of picnic tables. These shows would always be free, never had a proper schedule, and many of the attendees would bring their own instruments to play. These days I play guitar and sing in a band called The Folko-oh-noes. I have also incorporated my love of music with my love for comedy. I am involved in three different shows in the Adelaide Fringe and although the workload is overwhelming, it is exactly what I want to do. My friend’s father not only taught me a few guitar chords but he also

I SPY A SPY Writer_ Ryan Mallett-Outtrim

his must all seem a bit surreal to you,’ the police officer said. Surreal wasn’t exactly the word I was thinking. Seeing my first cluster bomb was surreal. Having half a dozen AK-47s pointed at my head (last year, in Algeria), was pretty surreal.

But being asked to monitor law abiding citizens? Ridiculous seemed more appropriate. He barely even looked older than me. He wore a business suit and sported a short, gelled hairstyle that was all the rage when I was in high school. Polite yet casual, he seemed like a cross between a used-car salesman and an intern mortgage-broker. Of course, he was neither. He seemed to know everything about me: my address, my political views, and even how to pronounce my surname. Heck, given that they were waiting for me in my favourite coffee shop, I’m guessing they could have even ordered lunch for me. After watching me slurp a latte for a few minutes, he approached my table. ‘Ryan Mallett-Outtrim?’ I tried to sound like I knew what was going on. Eyeing him down, lone ranger style, I asked, ‘who wants to know?’ He took that as an invitation to sit down, and laid out a proposition. He explained that he worked with the police, and was proposing a deal that I feed him information on community groups, political organisations and activist networks I’m involved with. In exchange, I would get...well, nothing. At times it sounded like a lousy business venture, but at certain points he made it sound as if I would be providing a public service, a bit like jury duty, perhaps. This police officer wanted me to monitor ordinary people. I would be reporting on the activities of community groups with legitimate concerns like clean water, renewable energy, human rights and poverty. This would mean deceiving my friends and family, just so police could secretly keep tabs on them. ‘Look, I know activists aren’t criminals,’ he said, finishing his coffee. He explained how he sympathised with some of my views, and respected my rights. He also confessed that from time to time, police and security have abused the trust granted to them by the public. In particular, he cited police behaviour at the Lizard’s Revenge action at Olympic Dam last year. However, he gave me no details as to who he was, or where the information I gave him would end up. When I asked him who he worked for, he just repeated the line, ‘security and intelligence’. For readers who have never heard this, ‘security and intelligence’ is the default response to cover classified operations. ‘Right,’ I said, chuckling. ‘The Department of Security and Intelligence? And, let me guess, you work in the Division of Security and Intelligence?’ He fidgeted awkwardly.

‘Well, how about I give you my number...’ he trailed off as he reached into his pocket. ‘Actually, you’ll probably just lose it, right?’ Guessing I had made my position clear, I nodded. Without any form of identification, this officer could have been nothing more than an invasive con artist or a schizophrenic with a penchant for James Bond movies. I have been involved in numerous environmental and social justice campaigns, but I’m hardly a big wheel; not exactly the best guy to lean on for information. At the time, it was impossible for me to tell whether my spook was really ‘security and intelligence’, or just a garden-variety fruit-loop. It took three days for SAPOL to admit the incident was genuine. Suspecting that someone had tried to con me, I actually reported the undercover officer to police. I was repeatedly told that my experience did not sound credible, and was probably a hoax. After badgering SAPOL for days, and being visited twice by intelligence agents at home, my fears that I was being stalked by some kind of lunatic were finally put to rest. I’m still not entirely sure why it took so long for SAPOL to inform me that I had been targeted for recruitment. Of course, I’m not sure why the undercover officer didn’t identify himself in the first place, rather than leave me to validate his claims on my own. Nor do I know for certain why I was even targeted in the first place. I’m a non-violent activist with a clean criminal record. Information on every campaign I’m involved in is publicly available. Moreover, police officers are welcome to come along to activist meetings (they often do, anyway). One thing I do know, however, is that I’m far from the only activist to be monitored by police. In January 2012, the Saturday Age reported that federal police and ASIO were continually monitoring Australian environmentalists. However, it does not appear that this was being done with the interests of the public good in mind. Rather, according to documents released to the Saturday Age under Freedom of Information, Resources and Energy Minister Martin Ferguson had requested the surveillance on behalf of energy company lobbyists. Greens Senator Scott Ludlam was reported as having described the incident as ‘a deliberate abuse of the role of Australian security agencies, who have better things to do than follow the dictates of foreign coal and energy corporations’. When corporate lobby groups dictate police behaviour, as they did last year, they not only blur the lines between governmental and corporate interests, but threaten to undermine the ability of community groups to freely voice legitimate concerns. I still have plenty of unanswered questions about my experience, but one stands out above the rest: if I had taken up the offer, whose interests would I have served? The Australian public’s, or those of the companies I’ve so often railed against?

AROUND THE WORLD

UNISA

Photo Credits 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 34

Maddy Broadbridge Zenia Anderson Ilona Wallace Ben Clarke Amelia Grieve-Putland Ben Clarke

Chile Mumbai France Malaysia Africa Malaysia

3 4

A LETTER FROM KIM CHAU Dear International Students, On behalf of UniLife, I welcome you, my student fellows, to UniSA: an innovative, modern university with the largest international university student population in South Australia. I am Kim Chau, a second year Pharmacy student from Vietnam. First of all, congratulations on your decision to study at UniSA, because these last two years of school life at UniSA have been the best of my life. I understand it was a big sacrifice to leave loved ones, family and friends to pursue academic excellence in Australia, but I believe the international experience you will get when studying at UniSA will recompense all that loss. This will be a fun opportunity not only to learn about people and cultures from all over the world, but also to gain greater insight into your own skills, strengths and aspirations. Academic life here is probably not like the one you had in your countries— especially in Asia which is full of academic competition. At UniSA, you will have the most colourful life you’ve ever had.

was not relevant in a university environment. While at first I felt a little uncomfortable and insecure, before long I developed a new sense of confidence in my ability to thrive in this new culture, making life-long friends from all over the world. The cross-cultural communication skills I gained while studying at UniSA have become incredibly valuable as it helped me to understand people from different cultures and make more friends. As a result I have landed myself a job at a Pharmacy store thanks to a friend’s reference. My other personal experiences show that international students should get actively involved in the university’s activities, such as joining clubs or playing a role in UniLife. They will not cost you much time and you can simply enjoy associating with other students and experiencing the University’s spirit. Also as a student at UniSA you can have a voice or participate in many events. Since I joined Unilife, I have been enthusiastically involved and do my best to support this distinct community that I love. I am proud to say I am a UniLife member and a true UniSA student.

However, I have noticed that when international students first come to UniSA, most of them try to avoid the school’s social life. I was once like that. I was scared of not speaking English well so I avoided as much conversation as I could. I was scared of not being able to pick up Aussie jokes so I only talked to international students. I did not understand Australian culture so I isolated myself away from any social life. All I had was academic life.

So, to help you get started we at UniLife encourage students to participate in our “Your Story” writing contest. This is a place for international students to share experiences and tales. It is part of a broader look at UniSA around the world—you will find that many domestic students have had similar experience living, studying and working overseas like you. We hope you will join in and enlighten us with your unique knowledge and perspective.

But that is not what coming to a university like UniSA is all about. University life in UniSA should be fun. Life in Australia is about a balance between friendship, joy and academic study. I started to realise that the old saying “Don’t talk to strangers”

I wish you all the best in your years ahead at UniSA.

Best regards, Kim Chau International Student Representative

THE LONELINESS OF THE INTERNATIONAL STUDENT YOUR STORY COMPETITON - WINNER: Shey Wei Soo

Artist_ Jessica Johnson

t is a lovely Sunday morning as the sun shines bright. I can hear voices and laughter. I look up and see birds singing. As I walk down this local street in a place a long way away from my own home and country, a group of children chase each other around the front garden of their home. I can hear them laughing, playing and screaming. Inside, their parents watch over them, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. I smile at the little kids. Everything seems so perfect to me this Sunday morning as I look at this idyllic family scene. As I move along the road, I hear an adult say, ‘Excuse me.’ Upon hearing this, I step back to let a man and his wife and family pass. I stop suddenly as I remember how I used to perform an exercise routine with my family back home every Sunday morning. Suddenly I find myself homesick, wishing I could be with my own family. Homesickness is widespread in my mind. This is the first time I’ve been away from family, in Australia. At first, I lived in fear of racism and of being bullied by others. I had heard stories from my friends studying in Melbourne of their bad experiences and through them I have seen the impact of being bullied. One of my friends was bullied when he was catching a train to university in 2009. That was really a horrible experience for him. When my family and I received this news, we panicked and were concerned about his situation. He was just sitting there, listening to his music and reading his book. All of a sudden, a few local guys came up to him and started hitting him. He was injured badly. What he described to me has been floating in my mind ever since. The scars on his face and body have kept reminding me how he has been treated in Melbourne. I still remember when I first reached Adelaide, how all the people are very friendly and helpful, though. They were not as racist as I thought they would be. So, I started a new chapter of my life. Adelaide was so different compared to my home country. Everything seemed so systematic and clean. The public transport systems were very punctual and convenient. I took buses to the city and the bus drivers were warm hearted. ‘Hi, how’s your day?’ they would greet me. I was shocked and surprised because back in Malaysia, the bus drivers were not polite and they did not greet the passengers. The other thing I realised was that people would thank the bus driver before they got off the bus. Soon, I even started to apply this culture into my daily life. On the other hand, I felt the mild cold wind even in summer. I became surprised with the weather here, as I thought summer would be hot and stuffy. I could not imagine how I was going to survive the winter because in Malaysia the summer season lasts the whole year. To make things worse, my first accommodation did not provide a heater, air conditioner, or fan. I was fine with the summer heat, but not the cold weather in winter. Wintertime was wet, cool and windy. For the first few days of it, I enjoyed myself very much because back in Malaysia we do not experience winter. However, I eventually could not stand the cold weather any longer because my room wasn’t supplied with a heater. I had to wear four layers of thick clothes, longjohn pants, and winter socks in order for me to have a good night’s sleep. Previously, I always thought that studying abroad would help me gain great experience

because that was how I would get the opportunity to meet new people, experience new cultures, languages, different mindsets and foods, etcetera. Even now, everything is still very new for me and experiencing these new lifestyles makes me homesick. English was not my first language. So, I needed time to get used to the Australian accent. Especially during lectures or tutorial classes, as the lecturers had different teaching styles compared to in Malaysia. I did face some language difficulties while communicating with people. Australians often spoke very fast and used words that I wasn’t familiar with, such as, ‘doona’ which I found out meant blanket. Even now, it is hard for me to mix around and be sociable with local students. Hence, I usually hang out with my Malaysian friends. My main concern is that I can’t mix very well with local students due to our different cultures and different interests. But honestly, language is the main barrier between us.

dinner together with them keep being recalled in my mind. Here comes the homesickness again—I want to go home and if I can go back, even if only for a while, it will make me very happy. I want to be close to my family and buddies so badly. Now, I have to accept the fact that I will be experiencing homesickness during my journey studying abroad. The reason homesickness occurs in me is because I am out of my comfort zone. I received advice from my sister: ‘You should enjoy your time to the fullest because the opportunity of studying abroad is very rare and you should savour the moment.’ Therefore, I will try my best to deal with my homesickness. I do not want to disappoint my family and friends who give me their full support.

I am too used to speaking Mandarin as my first language. I feel so happy and relieved after using ‘Skype’ with my family and friends. I contact my family regularly because they always give me support and encourage me to do well in my studies. I usually contact them through Skype as it is fun to watch them on my computer screen as we chat and the feeling of seeing all of them on my screen is amazing; it’s as though as they are nearby. ‘You must take very good care of yourself,’ my mum told me before I left. This has been in my mind for eight months. Australia is a beautiful country where there are many friendly people. But right now, I am so far, far away from my home. I have never had this kind of feeling before. Great moments like going hiking with my parents on Sunday morning and having

AN INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVE YOUR STORY COMPETITON - RUNNER UP: Amuril Muhamat

I regard Adelaide as more than a place where I pursue my PhD studies. It is actually a place where I can foresee spending my time with my wife and my little daughter, as well as focusing on my studies. In contrast with my working life back in metropolitan Kuala Lumpur, where I must travel 60 kilometres five days a week, and sometimes work from 8am to 10pm, my life in Adelaide is more balanced. Get up in the morning at 5am,commuting to UniSA City West at 8am and returning home at 5.30pm—travel time is less than 30 minutes and gives me ample time to spend with my family. Adelaide is close to nature—with beaches to the west and reserve parks and forests to the south-east—which provides some of the best places to enjoy family moments. Within our first three months here, we had been to Henley Beach with its impressive scenery of white and soft sands and our little one was the happiest person on earth during that moment. Last December, we climbed the Adelaide Hills for cherry picking which was actually a turning point for me since I was a cherry-hater before. However, the taste of fresh and juicy cherries has changed my opinion of them once and for all. Another positive aspect of my short stint in Adelaide has been UniSA—particularly the School of Commerce—which has a really good research environment with dedicated staff and librarians. I was very grateful that the library managed to buy the latest book on takaful (Islamic Insurance) published by the World Bank in 2012. It was a really prompt response from the librarians! Furthermore, the facilities provided for the PhD students are world-class and incomparable to the university in the UK where I did my Masters. On the other hand, Adelaide is an expensive city when it comes to utility bills, especially electricity. As an international student, I presume the matter must have been discussed heavily by the public here, but that it is decided by the authority. If only the cost could be lowered, other goods would also become cheaper, like in the UK. Car registration is also another costly item in the list. I suppose I should not complain about the rising cost of living since I am aware it is happening everywhere around the world. Maybe I should be grateful for what we have, as things could become worse than this. Thank you, Allah. All in all, we really treasure our moment here, despite some hiccups here and there (which I consider as normal in daily life as human). I wish that the good things will be sustained, if not bettered, and the less favourable parts will improve.

INTERNATIONAL STUDENT

PHOTO COMPETITON 40

My name is Hilda, and I’m an international student from Indonesia. I took this photo at the Adelaide museum last year. While looking at how Indigenous women create handcrafts, I asked one of the ladies to take a picture with me. Surprisingly, there was a little girl who all of sudden came up to me and wanted to be captured in the photo as well. Then, bingo! We had this beautiful picture moment.

E ni NER / F a y IN

A B-

h W CaPETITON a ild OM

WALKING WITH LIONS: LEARNING MY ABDDDs Writer_ Amelia Grieve-Putland

lot of things frighten me. Spiders, aeroplanes, big waves, public speaking … the list goes on. But for some reason—maybe two months in the African heat was finally taking its toll—this time I wasn’t scared.

The place: Victoria Falls, Lion Conservation Park, Zimbabwe. The date: November 2011. The temperature: 50 degrees Celsius and climbing. Yet I was in heaven. Almost on a whim I had decided I wanted to go and live with lions in Africa. My friends thought I was weird and my brother simply said ‘no’, but six months later I was there. After two months volunteering with children in Zambia, where I was already having the time of my life, I arrived in Zimbabwe and nothing could compare to what was coming next. I had signed up for a lion conservation project, the goal of which was to combat the devastating decline in lion population. We attempted this through rehabilitation and breeding, with eventual release into the wild. The project predominantly employs local residents and receives financial backing from the impressively transparent Cape Town-based NGO, African Impact. Reliant on donations, tourists and volunteers, its overhead is minimal and its staff are the most generous, welcoming people I have ever encountered (along with everyone else I met in Africa). I was working at Stage One, where cubs born in captivity are familiarised with humans so their handlers become the ‘dominant’ pride members. Cubs are taken on walks every day to improve their hunting and tracking skills until they reach 18-24 months of age when (depending on temperament) they become too dangerous. At this point they progress to subsequent stages where human contact is removed, prides are formed and new cubs are born. I want to stress that, while they are accustomed to humans, these lions are by no means tame and, although technically cubs, their backs reached up to my waist. This is why every volunteer undertakes two lion training sessions before making contact. The sessions teach the ABDDDs – the 5 principles of lion interaction. The A stands for Affection, which I found easy because, let’s face it, lions are pretty freaking cute. B is for a healthy Balance of affection and discipline. We were told a cautionary tale about a repeat volunteer who was a bit too affectionate and was suspended from the project after lying down next to a lion and trying to give him a cuddle (she insisted they shared a special bond). The first D is Dominance. It is incredibly important to establish dominance early on to avoid being seen as prey. To do this one must stand as tall as possible (somewhat ineffective for me as I narrowly met the five foot height requirement), approach with confidence and, most importantly, do not hesitate. Apparently past volunteers who had failed to assert dominance were consequently stalked by the cubs for the rest of their stay. The second D, Discipline, does not involve hurting or punishing the animals in any way. The discipline exercised is akin to that of puppy pre-school where the use of a stern, deep voice and the occasional treat for good behaviour is sufficient. It also helps to point a stick at a naughty

lion when trying out your James Earl Jones impersonation with a booming ‘NO!’, as this apparently makes your arm seem longer and you more dominant. The final D is the art of Distraction which proved particularly useful. The cubs are most dangerous when feeling playful – one ‘play-bite’ and you’re an extremity down. You use the sticks to rustle leaves and shift their attention from the volunteer they have in their sights – luckily, while playful, cubs are easily distracted. These sessions interesting but I was eager to complete the training and get to the fun part. When I was finally allowed to make contact, I was surprised at how soft their fur was. I expected coarse, wiry strands toughened by daily frolicking in the savannah but instead it felt just like a child’s soft toy. However, as I withdrew my hand and noticed the thick black grime now coating my palm, I abandoned my initial comparisons with teddy bears. While much of my work involved enclosure cleaning (fondly referred to as ‘shit shovelling’), meat preparation (not for the weakstomached), path clearing (hacking at foliage with a rusty machete) and insect research (where I caught more bugs in my hair than in my net), my time with the lions made it all worthwhile. I know you’re not meant to play favourites with kids, but Chisa was definitely mine. Chisa, meaning ‘hot’ in local language Ndebele, was named for his hot-headed nature. He was the biggest, strongest and most challenging to get to know, but that’s

what appealed to me. He was often moody and impetuous, which made it all the more rewarding when your pat made him stop mid-stride and collapse in a heap. When he was good with you, you really felt like you’d earned it. However, it was far too easy to let moments of bonding lull you into a false sense of security. I knew Chisa was a wild animal capable of inflicting serious damage, but this slipped to the back of my mind when I took him for walks or dangled twigs in front of him to play with like a housecat plays with a piece of string. It therefore came as a huge shock when I witnessed Chisa and his sister Chobe kill and devour a pregnant, injured buffalo. It was a sobering experience to say the least. Of course I knew it was a critical milestone in their development and part of the greater ‘circle of life’, but I am ashamed to say I found it hard to watch. The buffalo’s painful cries for help were awful; they seemed to go on forever and I can still hear that final ‘crack’ of its skull. That was the day everyone stopped referring to Chisa and Chobe as cubs. After that, Chisa had a taste for blood and became too dangerous and unpredictable for us to get close to. It occurred to me how naïve I had been and I developed a new respect for the ABDDDs. Perhaps this is not everyone’s idea of heaven, but it was for me. I didn’t come away from this experience deluding myself that I had some ‘special connection’ with the lions. I know they are wild with no capacity to distinguish me from their next meal. However, it’s nice to think that maybe Chisa would recognise my scent or the sound of my voice (although I’m certainly not counting on it). And if you can’t relate to this, it might help if you met Richard Parker—do yourself a favour and go see Life of Pi.

THE SHANGHAI EXPERIENCE Writer_ Hoa Nguyen

Renowned as an international metropolis, Shanghai has definitely lived up to its reputation as a rapidly-advancing city that never sleeps. Whether it is cultural, financial, economic or technological, Shanghai offers foreigners the experience of one of the world’s greatest cities. This destination is the harmonious blend of the Eastern and Western cultures, a multicultural experience where modernisation perfectly blends with tradition. Shanghai is the place to be. I had the fortunate opportunity to live and work in one of the world’s most elite cities through an internship partnered with China’s leading marketing research company. Only by living and working in this amazing city could I truly experience and appreciate its uniqueness and charm. My first week in Shanghai was very chaotic. I had to learn the language and my way around the area. I was completely apprehensive on the first day of my internship. However, it all came together and I acquired the skills needed to survive this amazing but hectic lifestyle. The company which I was interning for gave me the opportunity to become involved in numerous projects with fellow interns from around the globe. Projects included media tracking, competitive analysis, and strategically creating a plan to spread the company’s business into countries such as Australia. Despite the hard work involved, I still had the opportunity to explore tourist attractions such as The Pearl Tower, the Yuyuan Garden, Nanjiang road and, of course, the nightlife of Shanghai. Shanghai is fast, busy and if you’re not careful, you will be caught in its pace—especially when taking public transport. If you are not a little aggressive, you will be washed away as you have no choice but to follow where the crowd takes you. The people of Shanghai have a very different attitude compared to Australia. Relax and laidback? Do not expect to find this in Shanghai! Shanghai is one of many leaders in technology. Their advancement is so rapid that even the older generations are in touch with the latest smartphones and gadgets. When I was on the train, I noticed that majority of passengers were in a world of their own as they occupied themselves with these smart devices. Being a foreigner is extremely difficult and most times extremely inconvenient because things can’t be done as easily as back at home. However, it is only by being in this type of difficult situation that you truly get to test and learn about your adaptability and resourcefulness. Only by stepping out of your comfort zone are you able to gage where your limits lie and learn about the capabilities you never realised you had. Shanghai is a city that captured my heart and made such a strong impression that will never fade. My time there was short yet sweet. I experienced endless opportunities, met and befriended many different people and created priceless memories and knowledge. I learnt how to adapt to Shanghai’s lifestyle and I would highly encourage other students to apply for an internship like this, as it opens a land of opportunities and cultural understanding.

HUMANITY IN THE HIMALAYAS Writer_ Kristen Giersch

epal is a small kingdom in the beautiful Himalayas. With a rich culture and history, Nepal is famous for its spectacular mountains, and the opportunity to trek highest peak in the world, Mt. Everest. However, there is another side to Nepal. Blinding the tourist vision, you learn that Nepal remains one of the ten least-developed countries in the world, and that the majority of its people live in abject poverty. Nepal is emerging from decades of political unrest that stalled the countryâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s development. This lack of development has left it with a primitive economic status, high unemployment, and low literacy levels. World Youth International (WYI) is an organisation that is committed to sustainable humanitarian projects in Nepal. Founded in 1988 by the Late Robert Hoey, WYI is a not-for-profit, non-religious and non-political organisation that works in collaboration with global partners to implement community development projects in the areas of Primary Health, Income Generation, and Education and Training. WYI is also a signatory to the Australian Council for International Development code and an approved AusAID organisation. WYI believes in creating sustainable community development projects to produce self-reliance and community empowerment. WYI participants are committed to ensure their projects are demand-driven, directly or indirectly contribute to poverty reduction and involve the community. In November 2012, I was fortunate to be able to join WYI to live and work in the rural community of Maaitar in Nepal as a community development volunteer for five weeks. For the duration of my time in Nepal, I worked as part of a team of volunteers to complete a major community development project and a number of smaller projects.

The major community development project I contributed to was for water irrigation. A 150,000 litre water tank was constructed to allow for water storage in the dry season and to increase the agricultural productivity and income in the community. Primary Health in Nepal remains poor by international standards despite recent improvements, especially in rural areas. To contribute to improving the overall health of the Nepalese people, a smaller project I helped with was teaching the local community basic first aid and CPR. A discussion of signs and symptoms of health problems such as stroke, heart attack and epilepsy was also conducted to provide education and awareness of common health issues. Other small projects our team contributed to were rope swings for the children, constructing rubbish bins for the community, donating books and sporting equipment to a local youth community centre, providing women with education on basic foot and skincare, and assisting in teaching classes at a local primary school. While it was the experience of a lifetime, volunteering overseas will also assist in my professional future, as employers are increasingly seeking to employ people who possess an international perspective and hold cross-cultural understanding. My experiences and knowledge of sustainable community projects and issues surrounding poverty were very limited and it is not a topic focused on within my undergraduate study. As a student of nursing, I hold a strong interest in primary health care with career objectives in community development and health promotion. Volunteering has assisted me in grasping a general understanding of the issues that are faced and overcome to plan and implement effective and sustainable community development programs.

Above all, the opportunity to immerse myself, by living and working within a Nepalese community, provided a cultural experience unmatched by travelling as a tourist. Developing a cross-cultural understanding is an invaluable part of my time in Maaitar. The knowledge gained is not only valuable to a health professional working in a culturally-competent manner but also as member of a multicultural society. The final major significance of being an overseas volunteer is gaining the exposure and education that I would never have experienced within the classroom. I would like to sincerely thank the Global Experience program for providing the GE Travel Grant and the incredible support that enabled me to have the opportunity to participate in such an amazing experience.

MY ARABIAN NIGHTS IN A STANDING MARKET Writer_ Matteo Gagliardi

n late November last year, I joined a cluster of negotiators, politicians, scientists, researchers, activists, and journalists from all over the world partaking in a Vernian journey to the centre of the earth. Our goal: to reach the United Nations’ 18th annual climate change conference held in Doha, Qatar, located at the crossroads of civilisation in the very centre of the Middle East. I was, rather fortunately, chosen to take part in a delegation of university students from across Australia, organised by Global Voices, a NGO that sends delegations to various international conferences. This was only the second time Global Voices took a student from UniSA; the first student went to Rio de Janeiro earlier in 2012 for a UN conference on sustainable development. While I could talk for hours on end about the conference itself, or on climate change, the most remarkable aspect of an opportunity like this is how engrossed you can become in a different culture. It is an experience that seldom arises in life. This is the experience I had when I visited and dined in a souq (a traditional Arab open-air market) on a warm winter’s night. After a long day at the UN conference, my group and I would often meander down to the Souq Waqif: the historic market district in the heart of the Qatari capital. Literally translated as ‘the standing market’, the Souq Waqif is a relic of a

bygone era, a symbol of the mercantile life Arabs and Berbers in the region used to lead. Despite being heavily restored, it remains one of the only places in Doha which served to remind us of what the capital looked like before the Qataris discovered they were sitting on a money-mine of oil and gas reserves and decided to construct ultra-modern, phallic-like skyscrapers to show off their newfound wealth. A simple walk through the marketplace feels like you’ve delved into a passage straight out of Arabian Nights. Through the strip where the restaurants and shisha lounges were located, I walked past restaurants serving cuisines from all over the Middle East (Egypt, Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq … take your pick) and some even from the Indian subcontinent, or mixes of all of them. These cuisines were very heavy on meat, but this didn’t stop my vegetarian friends from enjoying the mezze tradition. Mezze are a selection of small dishes from across the Mediterranean and Middle East and we often ordered hosts of small, yet delicious, meat and pastry dishes, salads and dips (such as hummus, tabbouleh, babaghanoush and fattoush) instead of main meals. Throughout our time there, I often found myself marvelling at the Islamic architecture which was captivating when illuminated by the night lights. The souq was filled with motifs—on columns, arches, balconies—and spiral patterns, making every building look like a mini palace.

It was the perfect backdrop to smoke shisha tobacco—another pastime for Qataris. After dinner, it was common for the locals to kick their feet up and order tea and a hookah water pipe (which restaurants sold liberally) and toke on the fruity flavoured tobacco. This was the perfect opportunity to relax and take in the surroundings. I can’t imagine a better way to be immersed in a culture than to sit back and observe it all while digesting an authentic meal and partaking in a soothing activity.

So, when opportunities to travel around the world, such as those offered by Global Voices, arise (and they do, quite often, so read your emails!), remember that they aren’t just there for academic or professional value. They are also opportunities for a cultural experience that you’d otherwise never have. And the less you know about a certain place, the more it will surprise and charm you with its cultural niceties.

After passing through the restaurant strip, we then turned into the market area—a labyrinthine arrangement of streets and alleyways specked with specialty stalls and shops, selling all sorts of things. There was a bird souq full of falcons (real and fake), and all the accessories falcon connoisseurs may need (falconry is a popular hobby in Qatar, having once been used a means of hunting for the Bedouin people of the region). Many stalls sold souvenirs such as traditional robes and dresses, papyrus drawings, hookahs and trinkets. But then, at a certain point, an animal souq would appear and take the visit on a surreal turn. Vendors sell all kinds of animals, even rabbits and chicks dyed bright pinks and blues to make them more appealing. Although this part of the tour was difficult for us, it spurred some contemplation about cultures and our differing norms and customs. Ultimately, this was exactly what my experience at the Souq Waqif was: an eye-opener into another culture, another way of life.

TRY IT, YOU MIGHT LIKE IT Writer_ Tara Zubrinich

imagine that for most people, the first day of University is an exciting experience and somewhat a rite of passage into the adult world, but for me it was a nerve-wracking affair. You see, I wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t like 80 per cent of the people in my course, who had just finished year 12 and were ready to take on the world. Instead, I was a 27-year-old single mum who had applied to uni because I was sick of my job and was looking for a better future. So when I walked into the room for the first day of orientation, naturally I headed straight for the other mature-aged students where we huddled together for safety. However, little did I know that by the third day I would be sitting in a kayak, rowing down the Onkaparinga river and forging a friendship that would go on to change my life. I had been paired with a 17-year-old, fresh-out-of-high school girl who was ready to see the world. After listening to one of the many volunteer groups that visit universities looking for keen students, we found ourselves planning a trip to Fiji. There, we would stay in a village and help build essentials, like water tanks for a school, which we would also liven up with some brightly-coloured paint. It took a lot for me to leave my children behind for two weeks, but with Julia by my side and the promise of an adventure, I boarded the plane for my trip. It was my first overseas trip without my parents. As we walked through the terminal gates, we were greeted by balmy air and the sound of locals singing; it was a sensory overload. Desperate to explore before the rest of our tour group arrived, we grabbed a local taxi and headed straight for the famous wharf

area where we strolled around, taking in the sights. By the time the others arrived at the hotel, we felt comfortable in our surroundings and enjoyed telling them what the area looked like. We boarded the bus the next morning, not really knowing what to expect, and had soon arrived at a village. We were instantly welcomed with the sounds of people calling out “bula” and children gathering to catch a glimpse of the 40 strangers who were coming to stay. The next week proved to be both rewarding and challenging. I hadn’t lived with my parents for seven years, so I found having to tell host-parents where I was going a little strange. I also missed my boys terribly. However, I had a newfound confidence and sense of pride that came from the work I was doing and the stories I would be able to take home.

hold a baby hawksbill turtle. In that moment I got to feel what it was like to tick something off your bucket list. Getting on the plane home a few days later, I was sad to leave a place that had given me so much empowerment, yet I was so excited to have found the travel bug within me. Would I have gone to Fiji if I hadn’t been paired with Julia that day? I don’t know, but I do know that university isn’t about how old you are when you start; it’s about making the most of the opportunities presented to you and being willing to step outside of your comfort zone. As the Yo Gabba Gabba saying goes: “Try it, you might like it”.

The biggest lesson of all came from a late afternoon, one-on-one talk with the kindergarten teacher, from which I learnt that I had taken so many little things for granted and had overlooked the simple pleasures in life. That conversation stayed with me long after I returned home and I am pleased to say it has lead me on a project that will see me return to the village in a few weeks’ time, but that’s another story. The second week of my trip was an entirely different adventure. I like to think of it as the week I realised I wanted to see the world. Cyclone aside, I got to ride on a tinnie in the pouring rain, hire a boat, and snorkel among hundreds of fish. I swam inside the most amazing caves that were reached by a tunnel, two metres underwater. But by far, the best experience came when I got to

THE DEEP END Writer_ Zenia Anderson

was sitting in a bar in Mumbai when I first heard about the brutal gang rape of a 23-year-old Indian woman in the nationâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s capital. Later, the Indian and international media would make her story known world-wide, prompting demonstrations, calls for the death penalty to be inflicted on rapists, and global sympathy. After spending five weeks in India I had grown to adore the place. It holds beautiful and confronting intricacies, contrasts, and vibrancy. The very best and worst of the human condition can be viewed side by side in the street. Hearing the sobering news about the horrific incident was a swift trip back to reality. As a pair of 18-year-old females travelling to India, we had encountered many horror stories before our trip had even begun. These stories detailed accounts of rape, theft, drugging, sexual assault, kidnapping, and abuse against tourists. We largely ignored these stories narrated to us by well-intentioned but overcautious relatives, and plunged headfirst into a supposedly dangerous world. India is a place that many people visit, though not all enjoy. It is the truest example of a love/hate relationship I have ever encountered. Many complain of the noise, chaos, heat, undrinkable water, traffic, rubbish, and the smell. However, there is also incredible food, heritage, history, religion, and people. It is mind-blowing to observe the sheer contrast between my own life and the lives of others, and the way in which the beautiful and unexpected so easily transcend all annoyances. India is home to more than one billion people. The population of Delhi is equal to the total population of Australia. You have not experienced peak-hour until you have been to India, trust me. Our next two weeks were spent in the beachside state of Goa and were fraught with conversations about the attack. I read newspapers which detailed the protests and marches that were sweeping Delhi and the public animosity against the six accused men. Entire newspapers were dedicated to stories surrounding the attack and other sexual assault cases. A story in the Times of India shared a survey naming public locations where women feel threatened in India. The list included railway stations, subways, markets, the street, parks, shopping malls, the work place, and restaurants. I began wondering if I was completely clueless; if I had stupidly overlooked every danger that had apparently been staring me straight in the eye. India, along with many other travel destinations, can be intimidating. We noticed the constant presence of large throngs of men, catcalls, dark alleyways, and the threat of being ripped off or followed, although it was never enough to make us feel truly uncomfortable. During our travels we had not so much encountered a pickpocket, let alone a sexual predator or mugger. Fear of the unknown is common and, to most, India is about as unfamiliar as it comes. If I were to have heeded the warnings of the know-it-all advice-givers who warned me of my chosen destination, I would not have experienced the most treasured five weeks of my life. Travelling in a turbulent world can be jarring but there is no feeling quite like expanding your perceived comfort zone. Adapting to circumstances and experiencing things that few people are able to do, are exciting and valuable opportunities. Of course, by no means should a person venture unprepared into a place of extreme political conflict or violence, all in the name of adventure and enlightenment. My intention is to encourage the thoughtful traveller. If youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re up for a bit of a challenge and donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t mind your destination being out of fashion or as yet undiscovered by the masses, then your trip will most likely be more interesting and untouched than most.

Horrific events such as the attack of the woman on December 16, 2012 should not stop people from experiencing beautiful and complex destinations. All that is needed is an ample amount of research, some caution, and the ability to go with the flow. Destinations such as Bali, Thailand, Europe, and America will always hold value as popular travel spots in our culture but there are hidden gems awaiting those who are willing to venture off the beaten track. Ditch the package holiday, buy a guidebook, and jump in the deep end. You wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t regret it.

Aloha Pneumonia Writer_ Connor McKenzie

t’s 3am, and everyone but the driver and I are asleep. As the bus continues its ascent up the hill, the thirty or so people around me curl up into uncomfortable-looking balls, desperately trying to compensate for their early morning wake up. The firm, plastic bus seats don’t help either. The woman seated next to me has also drifted off -thankfully not on me. I, however, am staring through the window, out at the dark, early morning sky. From my vantage point, I can see for miles. What seems like the entire island is mapped out by specks of light dotting the landscape: the tiny clusters of specks by the water are towns, the dot-to-dot trails across the darkness, roads. There are no lights on the road in front of us though, but the driver has travelled this way many times before. What seems to be an endlessly twisting and possibly deadly trail to me is simply another road to him. Almost mirroring the lights below, the many stars above shine bright; pinpricks of light, clear of the pollution that would have blocked them from view back home. The bus continues to climb higher and higher and higher along the world’s steepest paved road, and soon the dotted landscape below is blocked out by tall, dark trees on both sides. But the stars are still high above, and I stare at them, eyes half open, suddenly feeling incredibly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Time must fly when you’re half asleep, because before I know it, we’ve arrived at the peak of the volcano. The sleepers stir, rubbing their eyes and groaning as they all slowly sit up and stretch, like a groggy yoga class. When they look around themselves, they murmur in excitement as they realise just how high above the ground we are. As the bus driver explains, we are now almost ten thousand feet above sea level, a feat which would have seemed impossible for a minibus to achieve a couple of hours ago. Now, we’re even above the clouds. Above us is nothing but blue sky, uninterrupted in all directions. I can’t see the stars anymore, meaning the sunrise is close. But that’s what we came all this way to see in the first place. The bus driver rattles off a list of safety precautions and directions, which – like the drive up here – he’s done many times before, but he does it with very little enthusiasm. At least he does it with a smile on his face. He opens the doors and we all file slowly out of the bus. I immediately regret it though. An icecold wind cuts through us, sending shivers down my spine and every other part of me. (Who knew that it would be so cold ten thousand feet in the air?) There’s a small shelter nearby and we all scurry towards it, hands rubbing together, trying to gather any sort of warmth. Thankfully the wind can’t reach us in the shelter. I open the package I had been given before getting on the bus. Inside are bright yellow plastic clothes, a jacket and pants, which are supposed to protect me from the cold. I pull them on as quickly as possible; the more clothes the better. But when I step out of the shelter, the yellow suit doesn’t help much at all. The wind still chills me to the bone. I’ve lost some of the feeling in my nose.

I head towards a guardrail overlooking the edge of the volcano, leading almost straight down. More people join me, all braving the fierce cold to see if it was worth getting up at two in the morning. I recognise people from my bus, mainly from our matching yellow tarps. We unconsciously huddle together, both for warmth and to fight for a good view, when a strong voice echoes around us. I look around to see that the voice belongs to a short, stout woman who seems to be singing— though not the sort of song I would usually hear on the radio. She’s wearing tracksuit pants and a sleeveless vest; I can’t imagine how anyone could ever get used to this cold. She finishes singing and explains to us over the roar of the wind that her song is an ancient one, welcoming the sunrise of a new day. The rest I can’t hear properly. My ears are ringing from being so cold. But then, from behind the clouds far in the distance, a dazzling orange light shines, making the clouds seem as though they’re glowing. Everyone falls silent; the wind is the only thing I can hear. Slowly but surely, the light slowly rises, casting a welcome warmth upon us all. The sun ascends from the clouds, shining brighter than anything I’ve ever seen. As it has done for millennia, the sun once again takes its rightful place in the sky above, and as it shines its light warmth down upon the tropical island of Maui, I realise just how far from home I am. I also realise I’ve lost all feeling in my face.

UNILIFE

LOVE FROM

A FAREWELL FROM STEPHEN McCALLUM Dear Students, I have been on the UniLife Board as a City West Representative twice and I had the vision and experience to reform UniLife and make it even more effective. There is a great capacity for change within the student movement and I see it as my job to empower students to allow them to represent their own interests and make their own change. My goals for this year were based around strengthening student representation and improving the administration both for clubs and within UniLife. Currently UniLife is undergoing structural and cultural reform and will reemerge stronger in each of the coming semesters this year. Unfortunately, I have had to resign as the UniLife President effective on the 31st of January. I have had a good run, working with a very capable board of student representatives. UniLife’s structural reforms are creating a level of instability, but I’m confident this board will continue to work hard to ensure quality services are delivered to the students of UniSA. I wish the incoming UniLife President, Arun Thomas, all the best of luck for the rest of the term and bid a kind farewell to the students of UniSA. Thank you all for your support. Stephen McCallum, former UniLife President

A WELCOME TO COMMENCING STUDENTS First Times—what a fitting theme for the first issue of 2013. This year will bring many a ‘first time’ to most of you reading this. First year of university, first early-morning skipped lecture, first exam at the Showgrounds … the list goes on. And while I’m sure there are other non-university-related ‘first-times’ that many of you will experience (things I better not delve into) there is one thing for certain—you only get one first year of university! To most of us, the first year brought with it new challenges, at least one P1 grade, and of course the dreaded three-hour lectures, which almost always fall on a Monday morning at 9am. It also brought with it the first pub crawl, the second pub crawl and the third pub crawl … You will meet new people, start new relationships and spend hundreds of dollars on useless textbooks. You will learn new things, get a parking fine (Magill students this one is for you), and probably ask for at least one extension on an assignment. To all of the first year students, this is the beginning to the next stage of your life. And while studying is important, here at UniLife, we strive to make your university experience one you will never forget. To do this, we need your help. Tell us what you want. Let us hear your voice. Talk to one of your representatives and let them know what kind of changes you want made. That is why we are here. Most importantly, good luck. Here is to a 2013 of many first times. Best wishes, Eleisa Hancock, City West student representative.

UNILIFE REPRESENTATIVES UNILIFE PRESIDENT

Arun Thomas

WHY I BECAME A REP: In my four years of study at UniSA, I have seen what my fellow students want and believe in. I want to create a strong campus culture to improve students’ university experience. I see myself as a strong leader who responds to your (the students’) needs with dedication, determination and discipline. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: To ensure the delivery of support and advice for students by increasing the advocacy role. By increasing student representation, I want to ensure our fellow students’ voices and concerns are heard in all available forums in university. EXCITING FACT/S: Currently, I am the proud owner of a nursing home in Geelong, Victoria. CONTACT: Arun.Thomas@unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: Post-Graduate Students

Andrew Friebe

WHY I BECAME A REP: I became a member of UniLife to become more involved in the university and to give something back to the students UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: My goal for this year is to provide a voice and support to other post graduate students to help them know and understand what UniLife can do for them, and to make sure UniLife is given a strong platform to ensure its success in years to come. EXCITING FACT/S: I’m a keen cyclist and recently won the Alphutte Classic race CONTACT: frial002@mymail.unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: International Students WHY I BECAME A REP: To become an active UniSA student and to help my fellow international students have good time at UniSA. Also, it’s never enough to get to know more people and make more friends.

Kim Chau

UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: To contribute to UniLife as long as I can and support international students as much as I can. I want to be the voice of international students at UniSA if possible. EXCITING FACT/S: I was an international student rep in high school, and I wrestle with my nephew regularly. CONTACT: chatl012@mymail.unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: City West

Eleisa Hancock

WHY I BECAME A REP: I’m here to make your University life one to remember so don’t be afraid to speak up about what you want done! UNILIFE GOALS FOR 2013: I am absolutely keen to get to know as many of you as I can and help you out with any endeavours you wish to take on or changes you want made. After all that’s why I put my hand up for this gig. EXCTITING FACT/S: I’m currently studying a double degree in Journalism and Law; my favourite bands are The Killers, The Beatles and Electric Light Orchestra. I’m an avid supporter of the Port Adelaide Footy Club (don’t even try to hold that against me) and for the first 17 years of my life I grew up in a small country town about an hour out of Adelaide. CONTACT: hanem002@mymail.unisa.edu.au

Beth Beggs-Brown

REPRESENTS: City East WHY I BECAME A REP: Because Arun Thomas told me to, but also for the money. Truthfully, I became a rep because I’m a good representation of your average uni student and thought the ideas I have about what students want are relevant and realistic. I’m also not afraid to speak up and approach other students. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: More free pens, tampons and condoms than ever before! To get the Unilife name out there, because students need to know we’re here for them and want to hear what they want from us. I want all students to know what services UniLife has on offer as well as all the awesome events it throws throughout the year. EXCITING FACT/S: Ashley Katchadourian was supposed to be watching the door. (If you don’t get this reference go watch ‘the most popular girls in school’ right now.)

Callum MacLeod

CONTACT: seXiiRoxYBabE@hotmail.com or alternatively at my actual email begbr001@mymail.unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: City West UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: This year my main focus as a representative of UniLife for City West is to cater for the needs and issues faced by students of this campus. I will strive to confront issues surrounding the Academy/Student Lounge, and find ways to engage students in non-academic pursuits that will change the image of City West, from what can seem like a dull concrete complex to a retreat for students to relax and enhance their university experience through more leisurely pursuits. Music will hopefully play a large role in this rejuvenation of campus culture at city west and hopefully across all campuses. EXCITING FACT/S: I am a huge lover of music and sport and my two most treasured pleasures in life are listening to the Beatles and watching the cricket. CONTACT: macci001@mymail.unisa.edu.au

Barrie Shannon

REPRESENTS: Magill WHY I BECAME A REP: To experience new things, meet new people, lobby for better student services and to generally go a bit outside of my comfort zone. It was more or less a spur of the moment kind of thing that snowballed. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: To bring better ‘campus culture’ back, give exposure and opportunities to minority communities within the university, including queer students with whom I work closely as manager of Pride, and to take advantage of Magill’s scenery while we still have it. EXCITING FACT/S: Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I have to actually convince myself that I’m not Liz Lemon. CONTACT: shabj005@mymail.unisa.edu.au or pride@unilife.edu.au

Kosta Latsis

REPRESENTS: Magill WHY I BECAME A REP: I became a Campus Representative because I wanted to facilitate a strong campus culture. I hope that more students will be able to benefit and participate in the strong culture that has flourished around the Unilife counters in 2013. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: My goal for Unilife is to encourage and facilitate extra opening hours for the Unilife Counters in 2013, which I hope will assist more students in benefiting from the support and camaraderie offered by both counter staff and students. EXCITING FACT/S: I can speak three languages and have written a book. CONTACT: latky002@mymail.unisa.edu.au

UNILIFE REPRESENTATIVES REPRESENTS: Mawson Lakes WHY I BECAME A REP: I am trying to participate in more volunteer activities and bring value to what I am doing. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: I want to encourage the relationship between clubs and students. I also want to improve the sense of belonging for International Students.

Terry Tan

EXCITING FACT/S: I am a cameraman and movie editor, and my other interests include travelling. CONTACT: tansy128@mymail.unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: Mawson Lakes WHY I BECAME A REP: I became a representative to change the way students see UniLife. I have spoken with a lot of people who had never heard of UniLife, and so I’m really excited to get our name out to the students so that they know who we are and what we do.

Andy Kay

UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: I hope to achieve better clarity in regards to the services that UniLife provides to the students of UniSA, and I would like to see the standard of services raised in 2013. EXCITING FACT/S: I have personally met the band members of Amon Amarth. Contact: kayam001@mymail.unisa.edu.au

Rachael Hancock

REPRESENTS: Whyalla WHY I BECAME A REP: I became the Whyalla Rep to brighten the student culture and make our time at uni a fun time. Being a mum with teenage kids, I was hoping to reach both the young and the mature-age students by making some events family-friendly and some just for the younger students. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: My goal for UniLife 2013 is to give the Whyalla campus the best time we’ve ever had. EXCITING FACT/S: I love to go for lime thick shakes at the Beach Café with my partner. CONTACT: rachael.hancock@unisa.edu.au

REPRESENTS: Mount Gambier

Claudia Shelton

WHY I BECAME A REP: I became a representative to help build the social aspects of attending University and to create a healthier social vibe around campus. Our campus is a lot smaller compared to the larger city campuses and we do not have a lot of the social activities, clubs and sports that the city students have, so I plan to help build on this! I am prepared to be a voice for the students at my campus and to help them get the best experience at UniSA. UNILIFE GOALS IN 2013: My goals for this year are to host more social functions for our students to attend as this will help integrate the different courses we have to offer at Mount Gambier to create a better social vibe. I am also planning to work towards getting new facilities at our campus which is slowly expanding as we are offering new courses. CONTACT: shecr003@mymail.unisa.edu.au

CLUBS: SHOULD THEY STAY, OR SHOULD THEY GO? Writer_ Stephen McCallum

There are currently discussions in the university community about who should support student clubs at UniSA. Traditionally, non-academic student services, including clubs, have been supported by student organisations like UniLife. However, the university has indicated its desire to provide administration services for clubs instead of UniLife. There are many benefits to both models of club funding and I’ll talk about the ‘pros’ and ‘cons’ raised with them as impartially as I am able to as a former Unilife president.

The University’s case The university claims it will be able to bring large organisations and well known athletes into the club community by virtue of the sheer size of the university as an organisation. The university will also be able to link clubs to relevant parts of the university, such as by promoting sporting clubs to physiotherapy students. The university has also identified that its more corporate approach would allow it to capitalise on potential sponsorship revenue, especially from sporting clubs, to better enable it to fund clubs.

Unilife’s case Unilife’s position is that it is more able to provide services to suit the needs of students as the organisation is run by students, many of which are club managers themselves. Being a student organisation, Unilife’s sole overarching purpose is to provide non-academic student services, create a fun campus environment and lobby the university to improve or maintain the quality of education or academic services.

In contrast, the university’s core objective is to educate students in advanced fields of learning. Maintaining a good teaching and research nexus is important for providing a good quality education and this is why universities are uniquely placed to offer higher education. While academics and university administrators are highly capable of offering a quality education, they are not well placed to deliver core support for clubs. The people best placed to know what support is needed most by clubs are the students in those clubs. In the absence of a clubs association, I think the next best option to help support clubs would be students, given that clubs are mostly comprised of students and are funded on that basis. I’m sure I’ve missed points from both sides, but the cases outlined are not as important as your opinions. If you’re an opinionated club administrator, club member or active student, write to UniLife about your thoughts, ideas or concerns about the administration of our clubs. While UniLife intends to run forums about clubs, any feedback is welcome.

FUTURE MUSIC FESTIVAL

WOMADELADE

@ THE MAID AND MAGPIE

DISCO BITCH

@ FORMAT

WOLF CREEK - THE MUSICAL

ADELAIDE WRITERS’ WEEK

ADELAIDE FESTIVAL

THE ACADEMY @ CITY WEST RE-OPENS!

ST JEROME’S LANEWAY FESTIVAL

BBQ FUNRAISER - Info Here: ow.ly/hg9srj

LIVE BELOW THE LINE

CLIPSAL 500 OPENING DAY

@ CITY WEST CAMPUS

GEAR UP FESTIVAL

@ THE WORLDSEND

SEVENTEEN FIFTY SEVEN

@ THE MAID AND MAGPIE

RADIO NOIR

ADELADE FRINGE FESTIVAL OPENNG PARADE