I had the most wonderful morning today in the Royal Botanic Gardens, arriving there at about 7.30. Although I’ve been in the general area at that time of the morning, especially around the Opera House and around Circular Quay, I’ve never actually been inside the gardens at such an early hour. Mostly, it’s a Saturday or Sunday afternoon when I’m in the gardens. By then the noise of the day has taken over, with weddings and family groups competing with birdlife to see which can be the noisiest.
But at 7.30am, nature is well and truly in charge, with the birds and the bats loudly declaring this was their home. Even the well-arranged plants seemed a little wild, falling just short of taking on “triffid-like” qualities. In the midst of the concrete, sandstone and water that characterises the environment of Sydney’s CBD, it was nice to find somewhere just a little “wild”. Yeah, I know it’s not the Daintree, nor is it Tasmanian Old-Growth, but it’s the closest I get to nature in my neighbourhood. And what a view!
There were times today at Radio Days Jo’burg when I thought my head might explode. Not literally, of course, but metaphorically as I found myself trying to understand ideas, concepts, and life situations well beyond my normal frame of reference.
During a morning break, for example, I was chatting once again with a lovely woman who I’ve got to know over the last few days. I can’t remember how the conversation got around to the complexities of language, identity and national borders, but she did her best to explain some of the complexities of this part of the world to me. She explained that her clan name occurs in several different countries (not just in South Africa), that tradition means she can and cannot marry some people, and that rivers and mountains which often define national borders make little sense in this part of the world.
As complex as all that was, the two most powerful presentations I attended today were, coincidentally enough, given by the people I sat with over breakfast over the last few days. Over breakfast we’ve chatted in a combination of French and English, as Jacques is from the Democratic Republic of Congo and Monique is from Madagascar. When I say “combination of French and English” what I really mean is Jacques spoke no English, I spoke no French, and Monique did her best to keep the conversation flowing.
Monique Rakotoanosy is a lecturer in journalism at the University of Antananarivo., Madagascar.
In her presentation today she explained the shortcomings of the media in her country, where there’s only one national radio station and a multitude of smaller radio stations (mostly run by church organisations). Her country is overwhelmingly poor, there’s little in the way of “civil society” in a Western sense (though she argued there was a different type of civil society there), and there’s heavy censorship of the media both officially and unofficially. She explained today how 80 of Madagascar’s radio stations had been closed down since 2010, with intimidation, threats, and the gaoling of journalists all being fairly common. Her main goal at the moment is to revitalise the radio academy there as a means of improving journalism and independent thought in her country. When I asked her if there was the possibility of support from people from Madagascar who may have moved away, she told me there was a significant diaspora from Madagascar (especially in France), but that she felt the solutions should come from at home, especially from the students.
Jacques Kokonyange is the station manager at Radio Muugana, a radio station in the Democratic Republic of The Congo.
He explained the difficulties of being “independent” in a country where there were civil war exists. He talked about how you need to adapt to such a situation, and explained they no longer do live phone calls to air because of the “risk” to those involved.
There was also a very powerful presentation by Dika Khesa, a radio station manager at Karabo FM in the Orange Free State part of South Africa. He told a very descriptive story about how his radio station was overtaken by people during a period of civil unrest when forty people in his community died/were killed. He described that on one hand he had the broadcasting authority in South Africa wanting to shut his station down, but on the other hand, had to deal with a large group of drunken people invading his radio station.
Also today there was a really interesting discussion this morning about radio in Mozambique. In particular, I was really interested and moved by the story of Zenzele Ndebele, who described how he and others had been running a radio station “without a licence” for ten years. He explained how they make a daily radio program which they distribute in a variety of ways, ranging from Facebook, Twitter and Soundcloud, to having the program played in cafes, and distributing CDs by couriers around the larger cities of Mozambique.
As I listened to these stories I began to think how comparatively trivial was the presentation I’m preparing to make tomorrow at the conference about Australia’s experiences with digital radio. Yet I guess that’s what makes the conference so interesting in some ways – the contrasting experiences and many different stories to be told.
Interview with Mo-G at Kaya FM in Johannesburg
Later in the afternoon, I was invited to be today’s “International Guest” on Kaya FM, a local radio station here in Johannesburg. When the producer, Ernest, greeted me, he explained that the daily segment aimed to focus on South Africans working abroad and on people visiting South Africa. Their interest in me was as an international delegate attending Radio Days Jo’burg. Having listened to the station over the last few days, I knew this wasn’t going to be the most in-depth I’d ever done. The presenter, Mo-G told me Australia was the first country outside of South Africa that he had ever visited. “It was 1998”, he told me, “…and I was playing rugby”. I really enjoyed doing the interview very much, and the staff at the radio station were very warm and welcoming.
It’s Saturday afternoon and I’ve just arrived back from an interesting walk around Central Sydney. I feel pretty good about life and pretty good about the world. And I really enjoyed my walk, so I thought I’d share a few hours of my life with you.
As it was Saturday, I started off the morning, as usual, watching “The Simpsons” and “Will & Grace” on Foxtel. In the case of both programs I never really liked them when they first appeared on television. Indeed, when “The Simpsons” were a part of “The Tracey Ullmann Show” I considered them a painful interruption. Now, however, they’re both firm favourites and I really enjoy a couple of hours on the couch watching them.
Concerned, however, that I’d spend the day on the couch, I decided to head out for some sunshine. Walking down Crown Street, I cast my eye briefly towards the Surry Hills Markets. The markets have been going for several years now, and although they’re very popular, they don’t do all that much for me. Like the annual “Surry Hills Festival”, I both love them and hate them. I love them because they display a great sense of community. I hate them because they’re actually pretty daggy.
As I walked down Oxford Street, food was high on my level of consciousness. Walking past Starbucks and countless number of “gay cafes”, I found myself having a coffee and almond tart at a really nice little patisserie. I really hate those “gay cafes”. You know the ones where tables of men sit watching the world go by, eating bad tasting and overpriced food and coffee, served by skinny young things with too much attitude.
From there I wandered further down Oxford Street, bought one of those great aloe vera soft drinks I like so much at the IGA Supermarket and then spent half an hour of so enjoying the sunshine in Hyde Park. It’s interesting to lie there in the sun and consider the close physical proximity between those who, like me, are reasonably well off and can enjoy laying on the grass and those who are very poor, homeless, and for whom laying on the grass is a reality.
I then walked over to St Mary’s Cathedral and went in for a few moments of prayer. Am I being the best person I can possibly be? Am I living the lifestyle I should? Am I behaving in my personal and work relationship the way I should?
Upon leaving St Mary’s I was reminded that it’s Hiroshima Day, so I wandered over to the rally in the park. I remember as a teenager and young adult that Hiroshima Day was always an important day on the calendar. Maybe that’s because I grew up in Lismore on the NSW North Coast where the peace movement was strong? Maybe it was because memories of the Second World War were still high in the minds of people I knew. But now, sixty years since the end of the Second World War, just a small crowd, maybe a couple of hundred, were gathered in Hyde Park. It almost seemed as if there were more people selling buttons for Friends Of The Earth or copies of Green Left Weekly than there were people listening and absorbing the messages.
I then walked up through town, finally ending up in Chinatown where I had steamed dumplings in a small cafe in the Burlington Centre.
My new health insurance card was in the mail tonight, thereby confirming my status as the holder of private health insurance.
I’ve never really wanted health insurance before, as I’ve always been fairly healthy, and I’ve always had good experiences in the public health system. To be frank, I’m really only doing it to get the tax man off my back, but I guess there may also be some advantages as I approach my middle years.
In the last five years, I’ve been to the doctor only once, and that was only to get a medical certificate to cover three days absence from work due to the terrible flu that’s gone around Sydney this year. Aside from the odd sniffle here and there, and the occasional bout of hayfever, I’ve been fairly healthy, with one or two notable exceptions.
About fifteen years ago while living in Renmark, I needed an emergency appendectomy. As I recall, I woke up in the middle of the night with what I thought were hunger pains. So of course, I had something to eat and went back to sleep. Hours later at work, the “hunger pains” re-emerged, until finally, my boss recommended that I should go to the hospital or at least the doctor. Fairly quickly I was diagnosed with appendicitis and was soon under the knife.
Waking up several hours later I found myself in a double room all by myself, in a small country hospital more akin to a nursing home. I had a great view of the garden outside, and the staff were absolutely tremendous. For a day or so I even resisted serious pain relief, as I kinda believe in the inherent healing powers of the human body. Being a public hospital room, however, another man was soon moved in. After a few hours of burping and farting, I finally asked for some pain relief, and it was then I discovered the inherent healing powers of pethidine.
Health Card
The next major incident occurred about six years ago when I needed a series of operations. Aside from the inconvenience of three operations in quick succession, my experience of receiving care in a major public hospital here in Sydney was also absolutely tremendous. A much larger ward this time, sharing with half a dozen others, I found I received as much care and concern as I did in the smaller rural hospital.
And aside from those two major occasions, I’ve mostly been fairly healthy. But I’m fast approaching the meaning of life age – forty-two – and I suppose I will eventually need to draw upon the health system more and more. Though I don’t wish to overestimate it, I guess the recent high profile death of Crazy John at the age of forty-two has perhaps also focus some of my attention in this area.
You should never post anything to social media on a Friday night, I’ve recently concluded. There are far too many people with “opinions” that, perhaps, become a little more extreme at the end of the working week, and perhaps after a glass or two of something. I was reminded of this again last night, after posting to a Facebook group a video of the Lismore flood thankyou parade at the Lismore Show.
In the midst of the overwhelming number “likes/loves”, there were maybe half a dozen people who were overly negative and nasty. Though they had legitimate points to make about the inclusivity of the parade, they could have phrased their feelings better.
In the flood coverage you might have seen mention of the Fijian and Sikh community members who helped volunteers, and sang (beautifully) as they worked. They were at the start of the parade, singing along the way.
Personally, I would have loved to have seen some kind of representation from the Koori Mail who did an amazing job, helping with food and shelter.
There are still strong feelings locally about the wonderful role played by the “tinny army” (the volunteers outside the state emergency service).
There was also criticism of the apparent delays in the arrival of the army to assist. Seated at a cafe the other day I overheard two people talk about the floods in Victoria, observing “the army turned up much faster for them than they did for us”.
However, I didn’t want to debate who was there and who wasn’t, and simply posted the video.
In response to some the criticism, a couple of comments resonated for me, including this one…
The local SES are local people from your community who give up so much to be there at the drop of a hat at any time for any call. Don’t condemn them for the decisions made by head office.
Facebook Resilient Lismre
In the midst of the criticism, I hope the video captures the heart and spirit of this community.
At the moment of posting, the Weather Bureau has issued a preliminary warning for the possibility of “minor to moderate” flooding AGAIN, as very heavy rain is forecast for tomorrow. Fingers crossed.
Over the last week or so I’ve had a few people comment to me that I’m looking a little more thin than usual. And yes, that’s true. I checked the scale tonight and I was in my late 80s, though the other day I weighed as little as 85kg.
For someone my height, that’s still majorly overweight, but for me it’s not too bad. Although I do remember when I weighed less than 60kg (when I was at university), I’ve mostly weighed in excess of 90kg for the last 10 to 15 years. A few years ago, I was actually over 100kg. And for someone who is 175cm tall, that’s not a good look, as you would realise.
But to be back in the 85kg range is a good thing for me. I reckon I could make it back to 80kg if I kept up the weight/exercise regime I’ve been doing lately.
My current weight
For me, the big issue remains that I find exercise quite boring, so weight loss/maintenance tends to be something which happens accidentally, more than planned. Most times when I’m travelling I lose some weight. In 2008, for example, I shed a lot of weight. Last year, I also lost a few kilograms.
As winter approaches, I worry that I’ll put the kilos back on again :(
Anyway, aside from weight, it’s been a day of catching up with friends for a meeting of Hawkesbury One and then tonight catching up with some friends for dinner and drinks tonight. I doubt the combination of both did much for my weight loss regime :(
Had a fabulous night at the Richard Fidler “Conversations” event at Sydney’s Giant Dwarf Theatre.
Here are some photographs from the evening.
Christa Hughes at Conversations at Giant DwarfMel Tait and Richard Fidler at Conversations at Giant DwarfRichard Fidler at Conversations at Giant DwarfGiant Dwarf Conversations Mixing Desk
