Monday 21 July

Well today was my first day of school. I got there right on time at 0900 and got home about two hours ago, around 8:30 pm, yuck! I have all this reading to do but I am too braindead right now. I have the same schedule tomorrow and then Wednesday and Thursday, I will be home by 6. Today, I just had the energy to call my landlord, make a little pizza in my fancy new oven and watch half of Cold Comfort Farm.

Pizza, you say? Yes, Australians believe in pizza, and most restaurants have “The American” (a pie with mozzarella, tomato sauce—pronounced toe-MAH-toe—and pepperoni. But their concept of cheese seems to be another matter. The other day, I asked the waitress in a café what kind of cheese they put on the burgers (I shouldn’t have to explain that in America you often get a choice between cheddar, American, jack…) She got a blank look on her face. "Oh, you know, the normal stuff...Tasty Cheese." At first I thought she was describing it ("Oh, really, you don't serve Nasty Old Unpleasant Cheese here?") After a bit more research, I am still in the dark. Apparently Australia’s favorite cheese is “Tasty Cheese,” which is not a brand name, but refers to the type of cheese (it’s actually a sharp white cheddar). It bugs me a little because it makes me think of the game of Adventure ("tahsty cheese!") , but I suppose that’s just the xenophobia kicking in. I mean, this country gave me Internet and cell phone (“mobile”) access within three days, so who am I to complain about the name of the cheese, especially when they do sell Brie and Gruyere in the specialty shops.

The other funny thing was when Alice, in an effort to be helpful, offered me “some nice Kraft slices” and then she and the waitress looked at me, apparently expecting that all Americans eat plastic-flavored processed cheese byproduct. I sneered, and ate my burger with Tahsty Cheese (“what do you want to do with the cheese?”).

School was all right except that the building was UNHEATED. OK, OK, I take it back. School was like a slow death. Everyone was bundled in their jackets (except those of us who don't have jackets) all day and our hands were so cramped we couldn't take notes, barely. I drank more coffee in those four days than I have in the last two months (it helps that I rarely, if ever, drink coffee). It was about ten degrees warmer outside the building, on the stones of the courtyard in the sun, and we all huddled outside during the breaks.

My classmates seem friendly. We are of all ages and all nationalities. In every class I sit next to Karolina, this sweet Polish girl who arrived in Oz a week after I did. She lives in an apartment with her boyfriend Paul. It takes her an hour and a half to get to class every day, by train, so she and Paul are looking for an apartment closer to the city. I am trying to convince them to move to Clovelly. I bought a friend, Theodore Laurence the Lavender Plant. He lives in the kitchen. But I would like to have people friends, too.