One Fish Two Fish: Land Adventures

See and experience as much as I possibly can

A story modeled after a reading assignment:

   http://www.worldhum.com/features/travel-stories/shooting-kakadu-20121202/

One Fish Two Fish. The 10 day spring break adventure from Brisbane to Cairns. I had been told this trip is the highlight of the entire Australian semester abroad. The adventures are extreme and the sights are breathtaking. It is unlike any experience you have ever had or will ever have again. 

Knowing all of this going into the trip, my expectations were set pretty high. I wanted to do everything and see everything, to take it all in and never forget it. However, attempting to capture these memories in photographs turned out to be a more difficult feat than jumping off the bungee platform. I snapped endless pictures, trying to capture the perfect beauty before me from every angle so I would never forget these pieces of paradise. 

But how do you capture the thrill of a boat running through white water rapids? The awe experienced awakening after a grueling 12-hour, puke-smelling, overnight bus ride to the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen? The surreal experience of walking neck craned upwards to see the entire milky-way lighting up the sky? The fear of seeing a massive fish swimming too close to your legs in clear blue waters? Each destination brought new experiences and sights to capture along with new emotions to record with the photographs. I was reminded of this challenge at every stop, each place carrying its own beauty waiting to be appreciated.

Carlo Sandblow and Rainbow Beach

Carlo Sandblow

After a two hour bus ride complete with multiple communal bags of wine passed around, games being played, new friends being made, and the initial excitement of finally being on this amazing trip still lingering, everyone was in an exceptionally happy mood. Our first stop was to the Carlo Sandblow in Rainbow Beach. Chatter filled the air as we made our way through a small bit of forest until we reached the end of the walk and were silenced by the amount of sand in front of us. Straight ahead was a mountain of sand that looked impossible to climb, to the right we could see the blue water in the distance, and to the left a steep decline to a cliff overlooking the rest of the water. 

sand shadows

I pulled out my camera and began to take pictures, of sand. No picture could capture the vastness of this sandblow, or the thrill of running down the mountain of sand so fast that you feel your limbs becoming disconnected from your body, or the anticipation of what this trip would bring felt when looking over a cliff out into the blue Australian waters. Instead we took goofy pictures of our shadows in the sand and pictures that made it look like we were jumping off the cliff, the sand and waters framing our bodies midair. 

The next day as everyone was finishing dinner, my friend Carol and I had some time to kill so we took a walk around the small town of Rainbow Beach. We pondered why it was called Rainbow Beach as we walked; maybe there was a rainbow when it was first discovered, maybe the guy who found it was gay, maybe he really liked Skittles, maybe it used to be a big gay party beach turned quaint retiree village; but it wasn’t until we reached the water that we understood. Somehow every color of the rainbow was present during this sunset hour. The reds, oranges, and yellows were muted and fading away with the sun; the greens and browns and tans were in the sand and the trees behind; the blues and purples and whites were all mixed in the water. The colors weren’t distinct, but they were definitely present and the name Rainbow Beach could not have been more fitting. We kicked ourselves for not bringing our cameras, knowing how hard it would be to describe the fascinating display of nature’s beauty we had just stumbled upon. 

wild dingo

Fraser Island 

The world’s largest sand island, complete with freshwater lakes, rainforest, wild dingos (one really did eat a baby), a shark feeding ground, roads that can only be navigated by off-road vehicles, and a highway located on the sand where waves hit your car and sends you flying. As our tour guide rattled off facts about this unique little place I tried to take a few pictures out of the vehicle window; however, the sand roads were so bouncy and uneven severe carsickness set in and I was unable to get any photos that weren’t blurry. When finally on steady ground, I couldn’t capture how giant and powerful the waves were crashing behind me, or how clean the freshwater lake was, or how dense and old the rainforest felt surrounding me. This strange little quirk of an island intrigued me with what secrets could be hidden deep in the sand or in the depths of the rainforest, igniting a sense of adventure that the few pictures I had at the end of the day would never show. 

our transportation around the island

driving along the highway

The Whitsundays

The most beautiful place I have ever seen. Hands down, no questions, 110% the best. In awe, I snapped away on my camera knowing that my point-and-shoot Panasonic could never capture the subtle variations in the blues and greens and whites in the water. That you would never be able to see the silvers of white poke through as the water shallows and a sand dune appears in the middle of the ocean in a picture from so far away. That the white sands would look like shreds of paper, not diamonds scattered catching the sun in ways I didn’t know sand could. That the pictures of the coral washed up onto the shore would never truly show the fascination I felt looking at the intricacy of each piece of the sea. I knew you would never be able to feel the life teeming from the dense green foliage on the islands clustered through the water. I knew the sunset over the water would not show how happy I was to be witnessing this natural beauty with great friends. I knew that seeing a little white dot on the corner of the picture would not bring the same sense of disbelief that I felt when I saw a fancy yacht coast by and thought how could I possibly be on the same island as these millionaires? I took a new picture every few steps anyway, in vain hopes that one may contain something the others didn’t to help me tell others about this paradise. 

White Haven Beach

South Molle Island Sunset 

At the end of the day, the most frustrating part was not the inability to capture these beautiful places in a photograph, but that they were so indescribably amazing that I was actually at a loss for words. But I try. I try so that these memories will be preserved forever. So that maybe one word or one picture will trigger the plethora of emotions I felt during this trip and I will feel again the out-of-body happiness that was One Fish Two Fish. 

One Fish Two Fish: Water Adventures

A large portion of my recent ten day spring break trip was spent in the water. From swimming in the clean waters of Lake McKenna on Fraser Island to spending three days on the beautiful Whitsunday Islands to white water rafting and ending it all by exploring a rainforest on the last day, I had many amazing water adventures. 

I felt most at home in the fresh water rivers, even though they were unlike anything I had previously experienced. On Day 7 we went white water rafting on the grade 4 rapids of the Tulle River. The area had just experienced a good deal of rain and the dam at the top of the river was letting the maximum amount of water through so we had the best possible conditions for the wildest ride. Having witnessed the power of the Niagara Falls rapids I was excited to try my hand at conquering this natural powerhouse. 

Rafting the Tulle

Paddling along the Tulle, I was like Lewis and Clarke exploring new regions of my inner thoughts as remote and unknown as the Louisiana Purchase. Our guide, a humorous Sacagawea, kept my mind grounded and body boated as I took in the rapids before me and the rainforest cliffs above. Revelations flowed like the water hitting a rock adapting its course to the obstacles presented, the kind of revelations that only make sense in the water.

The fresh waters of the Tulle were dark and fierce as they crashed over massive rocks. This was a major contrast to the calm, breathtaking, indescribable beauty we had just been surrounded by for three days on the Whitsunday Islands. 

White Haven Beach, The Whitsunday Islands

Easter Sunday was our first day on the Islands and was one of the best day of my life. Surrounded by water every containing every possible shade of blue to green, my happiness was as pure as the white sand. The impossibly blue water stretched until it met with the cloud-dotted sky at a point that was surely the edge of the world. Riding in a speed boat and taking it all in I finally felt like I understood what Charlie from the novel Perks of Being a Wallflower meant when he said, “And in that moment, I swear we were infinite,” as I had never felt more in awe of being alive.  

Easter Sunday on the beach

Not only did we get to explore these immaculate waters on a speedboat and day-long Catamaran ride, but I was lucky enough to snorkel through multiple reefs and scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef. 

snorkeling

My first time snorkeling I was very nervous about how the permanent residents of the reef would react to this human home invasion. My heart rose to my throat and panic ensued as I saw the giant fin pass along side me and disappear into the great blue beyond. I wondered what other of his friends followed and I began to swim as if they indeed were chasing me with their mouths open waiting to devour my exposed toes. 

As the waters got shallower and I could see the bottom, I was able to calm down and enjoy the sea life unfolding before me. Floating along the top of the water I observed the fish darting in and out of coral and the strange sea plants opening and closing like they were breathing. I felt like I was finally apart of my favorite childhood Disney film, The Little Mermaid, swimming with all my friends just waiting for them to burst into song. 

The Great Barrier Reef

Scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef was one of the coolest things I have ever experienced. Schools of fish weaved through the coral, us just guests in the precious ecosystem they have created for themselves hidden from the dangers of the world. My bubbles floated to the surface like jellyfish as I focused on breathing slowly in and out of my mouth respirator avoiding the temptation to inhale through the nose. This adapted breathing soon became second nature and I was able to take in the incredible sights before me: fish the colors of electric purple and blue that surely glowed in the dark, coral so vibrant and intricate that with one accidental bump I feared I would ruin its existence, small sand colored fish that blended into the bottom for survival, a Nemo fish happily swimming in his anemone, plateaus of coral with small ridges that were home to even more sea life, the colors of the ecosystem popping like the neon lights at a dance club. 

We continued along what I believed to be the bottom, then, making a slight adjustment, went over a ridge of coral and found a whole new level to the bottom of the sea to the explore. The possibilities were as endless as fish and I was never more thankful to have a guide on my arm steering me in the right direction so I would not be washed out to big blue beyond. 

Returning to the surface I felt different. Besides the ears still popping and heart still racing, I felt like I had witnessed a great secret. I had become a part of the underwater world that previously was so foreign and inaccessible and I was full of awe. The same awe that had filled me while riding on the speedboat the first day was back and it would continue to emerge throughout this trip of a lifetime. 

happiness after scuba diving

One Fish Two Fish: Air Adventures

do something that scares me

bungee jumping

bungee jumping

The stairs creaked as I made my way up to the looming platform in the sky. I refrained from peering over the edge at the turn of the staircase. The climb has got to be the worst part, I thought, once I get up there it won’t be that bad. Reaching the top, I kept my composure in check. I gave simple answers to the tattooed adrenaline junkies working the top and tuned out their foreboding scream-o music and focused on my breathing. You will be fine. You will be fine. 

I sat on the makeshift bench and let the attending take care of my safety. With a backup harness on my waist and just a towel and rope wrapped tight around my legs, I made my way to the edge.   I can’t, I can’t, I said as I struggled to tip toe forward to the bitter edge of the platform. He instructed me how to hold my arms; I promptly forget and reconciled with the fact I was going to snap my neck at the bottom. 

“You can. Now smile at the camera and jump.”

Are you kidding me? Smile at the camera? I’m not worried about looking nice for a picture I’m about to jump off a freaking 164 feet ledge! 

Every cell in my body screamed not to inch closer, not to look down, not to jump off the platform; but I overcame the sharp stinging protective instincts and leapt (well more like fell) towards my imminent arrival at the lake below. My eyes squeezed shut as the air whooshed past, leaving my still churning stomach 164 feet above.

I’m gonna throw up, ohmygod I’m gonna puke right into that lake. Oh no, I’m going back up again. OPEN YOUR EYES!

 My limp arms flopped like a rag doll as the weight of my body tightened the chord of the rope and shot me to the top like a rock soaring out of a slingshot. I caught back up with my stomach and frozen voice-box at my jolting return to the top. Screams and curses flew uncontrollably out of my mouth as the cheers from those yet to experience this paralyzing terror erupted below.

Okay how many times do I bounce up and down like a yo-yo? I should have counted the people who went before me. Ohmygod I’m cursing and everyone is cheering for me I sound ridiculous. Oh shoot what was I supposed to do with my arms? Chin down and dive arms right? Well I messed that up. I wonder if they can tell how terrifying I am. Alright, seriously now I’m ready to get down.  

As the strong attendant lowered my shaking and limp body onto the raft to untie my feet he asked how it was. 

Terrifying, incredible, life-changing, stomach-dropping, heart-pounding, unnatural and unreal, never doing it again, can’t believe I closed my eyes, get me out of here, get me a drink, how am I still shaking? 

All these thoughts ran through my head and all I managed out of a scratchy through and shaky voice was good. Feeling failed as a creative writer but accomplished as an adventurous soul I made my way to the next victims, as innocent as sheep waiting for the slaughter, all eager to hear about my experience.

“That was the most terrifying experience of my life,” I recounted my entire body still quivering uncontrollably; the cells that previously warned me not to jump were now rejecting the adrenaline and punishing me for putting them through so much fear. 

“Was it easier to go face first instead of dive?” A friend asked. 

“Is that what I did?!” I asked unable to recall the pinnacle moment when I jumped. She laughed and began her journey up to the steps. 

Poor chick doesn’t even know whats coming. 

I shook my head and headed to the bar to grab a drink before my turn at the swing, which I knew would be a breeze compared to the stomach-dropping, death-defying jump I had just accomplished. Before I my fingers could stop shaking my group made our way to the three-person swing. We were to be strapped in then hoisted up and back so when released we would swing out have the most amazing view of Cairns. I was completely calm until they began to raise us up. 

Why are we going so high? Oh no we’re as high as the bungee platform. I didn’t think it would be this high. It’s raining. Of course it would rain as we go up. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. The light is green. Oh shit the light is green. Amanda is gonna pull that rope soon and we are going to fall right on our faces; straight down and land on our face in a bush. Why hasn’t she pulled it yet? Come on Amanda pull the freakin’ rope! Here we goooo!

For an instant we were floating through the air, separated from the harness as we fell and then were swung through over the ridge and back. My petrified screams soon turned to insane laughter as the swing slowed. My heart rate returned back to a normal rhythm and the smile spread across my face. 

I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I did that. I am SO glad I did that. 

Australian Wildlife: Penguins and The Roo

What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Australia? The Kangaroo. 

our Roo friend

Endemic to Australia, these marsupials live what appears to be a pretty great Aussie life. They get to hop around through the bush all day and are found extremely exotic to those who live off the continent. Portrayed as kind and lovable through the cartoon Kanga and Roo in Winnie the Pooh, it is not uncommon to have the desire to envelop them in a cuddly hug. However, that is unadvisable because they pack a wicked punch and have extremely powerful hind legs. 

Even though I was forewarned that because my University is in the suburbs of one of the largest Australian city there would not be kangaroos running through campus, I was still a little disappointed not to have one greet me at the airport. My obsession with finding one grew as they taunted me on the one dollar coin, in the media advertising, and upon finding out that I would be missing a chance to see them at the Healesville Sanctuary for a trip to Sydney. Being in Australia has felt so incredibly unreal that I knew when I saw a kangaroo the enormity of the trip I was on would finally hit me. 

me with the Kangaroos

So when the chance to spend a Saturday at the Melbourne Zoo came about, I jumped on the opportunity.

After taking the wrong bus, sitting on a train for over an hour, and wandering through a poorly laid out zoo in the pouring down rain, reaching the kangaroo pen was like finding the prize at the end of a particularly unflavorful cereal. 

We entered the pen and was immediately greeted with an emu making its way along the  path with the other human guests of the zoo. The enclosures in the pen were no more than a simple log fence, with no wire or ability to restrain any animals, so they made their way as freely as the guests. The emu’s massive body, long neck, pointy beak, and beady red eyes did inspire some fear as it stared into my soul and made its way directly for me, only to divert its path at the last second. 

However we soon reached the kangaroos and all the perils of the day were gone as a brief ray of sunshine shone and we waited patiently for the annoying teenagers to leave and the roos to come out and play. And come out and play they did. One smaller guy seemed to take a particular interest with us and got close enough to touch and take pictures with. Unwilling to turn my back on the creature, I did not get a picture taken with it, but did get to touch its fur quickly before backing up and pretending I didn’t just violate it’s personal space. 

 kids the kangaroo almost punched

Others were much bolder with their endeavors to befriend the creatures; especially a group of young children who got so close the roo raised up to its full height and I was sure it was going to punch the plucky young kid right in his chubby gut. But of course, the roos seemed to enjoy the attention and hopped about happily unafraid of confrontation. 

It struck me how a place like this could never exist in America as there would always be security guards telling you not to touch for fear that one animal could be provoked and would attack, resulting in a nasty lawsuit for the zoo. 

Extremely pleased with the day, I finally felt content with Australia. They had not disappointed me yet. 

The next weekend we went to see another important part of the Australian wildlife, the penguins of Philip Island. 

These little guys, no bigger than the seagulls who stood fearless and proud on the beach as if we were there to see them, tumbled out of the surf, waddled a little farther along only to be swept up by the next wave and drawn back into the ocean. After their struggle against nature they battled the line of seagulls blocking them from the dry land where their homes and food lay. The group of five or six little penguins formed a single file line and darted for land like a group of nerdy high school students making their way through the halls dodging the jock bullies. Luckily they all made it home safely, avoiding whatever the wildlife equivalent of being stuffed in a locker is. 

As awed by cuteness as everyone was with these unique little penguins, we all still leapt into a frenzy at the sighting of a wild kangaroo. Outside of the bus window, if you looked hard enough, one or two could be seen standing in the tall grass watching carefully. On the way out of the penguin center a wild wallaby stood grazing on a tree planted for the walk into the center. We all stopped and tried to take a picture as close as we dared, toying with the possibility of using a flash for fear of scaring it away. 

On the way home, before falling into a deep slumber, I realized that these moments of pure happiness have hit me at the weirdest of times. Sitting in a basement on St. Patrick’s day debating what game to play, on the bus gazing at the familiar-feeling countryside pass with movie soundtrack-like music playing, walking back from class alone on a nice day, falling asleep soaking in the sun when visiting the beach for the first time, getting lost in the vibrant stars; these moments are not ones to write home about, but will been the ones I remember most because for me they are the kangaroo: my wildest expectations of this Australian experience come into fruition in ways better than I could have ever predicted. 

Carol with the Kangaroo

Sam with the Kangaroo

In the Land of Sunshine

When I asked previous participants of the Australia trip about what there is to do and see around Melbourne, I always was told of the graffiti walls. 

In my past experiences graffiti was the crude messages splayed across overpasses or on the sides of old buildings that criminals doing required community service scrubbed off. It was not something you went out of your way to see and admire. 

However, after arriving in Melbourne, I began to see the differences in their graffiti. One, there was a lot more of it. Two, it wasn’t offensive and didn’t devalue the area it was in. The graffiti was interesting, colorful, and invited the eye to try to decipher its meaning. Just riding the train from the suburbs into the city you are able to see walls painted in these modern hieroglyphics all along the way. Walking around a popular beach town the cement walls and wooden fences are tagged and decorated. I get the feeling that the removal of the graffiti is not on the top of the city’s priorities and that it does not have the same connotations to the people here as it does in the States. 

So one saturday as we were looking for a cheap but fun activity to do we decided to find these graffiti walls we had heard so much about. Shortly after arriving in the city we walked down a nearby street and immediately recognized the sly, knowing smile of the Joker from Batman spray painted on a dark cement wall. I could not believe that I had been on this street several times before and had never noticed the large white face staring at me until I began to look for it. 

We turned down the once ominous alleyway and entered a world of color.  Instead of the dingy, prison-cell, cement gray walls and abandoned, boarded up windows, this hidden gem of an alley exploded with the designs and dreams of street artists in vibrant color. Large murals covered the walls requiring a step back in order to take in the full grandeur while small details scribbled in window sills and crevices needed to be examined up close to appreciate their value.

Traffic cone orange, bubblegum pink, electric blue, and race car red designed geometrical patterns on one wall while the other was inscribed with inspirational and thought-provoking quotes framed in the blues of the Greek Islands. Distorted faces expressing fear and pain and joyful faces pouring love from their eyes watched as you made your way through their home.

Every inch was covered by beautiful depictions of  Indian elephants, ferocious lions, oriental fish, and dragons; comical images of the monopoly man, garden gnomes, sleeping beauty, Frankenstein, and buzz lightyear painting the words “toys will be toys”; paper posters of quotes were placed saying things like: “Welcome, you have nothing to fear” and “I don’t love you”; small doodles of cheeseburgers and hearts; more prominent quotes painted and framed in shades of blue said: “They’re not mad at you babe. They’re mad at the world” and “You look terrific babe” and You + Me wont be unhappy” and “could be worse, could be raining”; colorful bubble letters of names and slogans I couldn’t decipher. 

Stamped on a manhole cover on the ground was the slogan: “Land of Sunshine” which made me smile are realize how special and unique this whole city is. What was once crude acts of vandalism, they have been transformed into a powerful works of art.

Sydney

doing something “cultural,” not wasting a minute, and visiting a major tourist site. 

Only 11 days into my Australian adventure and I was already on a bus on my way to Sydney.  The previous days had been packed with excursions around Melbourne, from visiting the beach and the mall, signing up for clubs on campus, exploring the city on multiple occasions including an Ice bar, sky deck, beer garden, casino, and a few other evening festivities, I was already getting a good feel for the city in which I was going to spend the next few months. Now, embarking on a 12-hour bus ride to Sydney, the second great Australian city (a rivalry exists between Melbourne and Sydney for the title of greatest and having been dubbed a "Melbournite" I have to agree with its superiority), I was thrilled to be experiencing so much in the first two weeks of my great adventure. 

My initial thrills were frozen during the overnight ride on an uncomfortable bus with the AC blasting. My first impression of Sydney was the hostel where we stayed. The welcome room was covered in colorful streamers and chalk designs, a means of distraction from the cockroach in the corner and green stagnant fish tank. We left our luggage in a crowded basement room that was covered in warning signs not to leave our valuables there. I was more concerned with the questionable red liquid dripping from a raw-meat-like substance inside a grocery bag onto the floor and surrounded by flies. The bathrooms were worse (if possible), the showers were covered in slimy water and hair, the faucets barely worked, and the sinks were stained a variety of colors. Luckily the bedroom smelled fresh, so either it had just been cleaned or they use some good Lysol spray. 

Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge

Excitement was not reignited upon our arrival in the great Harbour City as it quite literally rained on our parade through the city tour. Because I am a simple American tourist, I forgot that it actually could be cold in Australia and neglected to bring any pants on the trip resulting in goosebumps and frozen legs for most of the adventures. Needless to say, I now understand that if rainy and 65 degrees means cold at home, it means the same thing in Australia. 

View from top of the Pylon

After a walk through the botanical gardens and an old church, we reached the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge. Seeing the iconic sights made me appreciate how lucky I was to be here experiencing a classic Australian moment. Climbing the pylon of the Harbour Bridge I was able to see what felt like all of Sydney even through the haze and foggy weather. I was on top of the bottom of the world, and the thrill of the journey had finally returned. 

Harbour at Night

The rest of the day was spent finding our way back to the hostel and spending the evening on a cruise around the harbour. At the end of the night being lost and trying to find our way back to the hostel did not bother me as much as it should have because I was so happy to be in this cool city and had a feeling of peace that everything would work out alright; and it did. 

Blue Mountains

The next day we took a hike through the Blue Mountains to see the Sister Rocks. Although there was more rain and mud, the sights were still amazing. It can be compared to the scale of the Grand Canyon in Arizona, but with lush green forests and trees rather than dry, dead, deserts surrounding. Walking down the steep, slippery steps to touch the rock was very frightful for someone with a history of falling down, but the luck from the rock guided me back up safely. Wishing it was nicer out so we could hike farther, we were forced back to the bus for the ride back to the hostel we had come to call home. 

That night we took part in the cultural experience of Sydney's Mardi Gras. Unlike Mardi Gras in America, the event was focused on a gay parade of celebration. Watching floats go by with members of the military, police force, lifeguards, local schools and clubs, all show support for the gay community made me love how the culture in Australia is much more accepting than in America. In America, this parade would have been a fight for rights, defending differences; in Australia, it was a celebration of differences. 

Shelly Beach, Sydney

The final day of the adventure was spent on a variety of beaches, absorbing the sights of beautiful beaches and the long awaited sun rays. First seeing Manly Beach and Shelly Beach we were able to test the waters (overcoming fears of jelly fish and other sea life) and watch the surfers fight for waves. Next, we walked from Bronte to Bondi beach, and sights along the mile walk was worth the entire trip. Every shade of blue was visible from the bright tops of the waves, to the dark deeper waters, to the sky blues extending forever along the horizon. Wisps of clouds mirrored the white breaks of the waves, as sunbathers dotted the shoreline and surfers caught some waves. We walked above them all on a cliff walk, snapping pictures every few feet in an attempt to captures the feelings of awe of nature in a permanent way. 

Bondi Beach, Sydney

Heading to the bus at the end of the day a double rainbow spread across the sea posing a perfect ending to a packed weekend in Australia's second greatest city. 

My hour as an astrophysicist

Arriving home at 6:30am off a 12 hour bus ride from Sydney gave me little time to prepare for my first class of the semester beginning at 9am. I was already a little nervous about starting classes in a foreign country, then add the fear of being in a science class after having exclusively english/writing based classes for a year, and the lack of sleep, and you can begin to understand the fragile mental state I was starting the year on. 

I arrived early and sat outside the science lecture hall ready for Intro to Astrology: Earth to Cosmos. As I debated whether or not to make friends with people in a class I was 70% sure I was dropping, I ended up just listening to conversations. Still enthralled by the accents, I was absorbed in conversations I was not a part of until I heard the wordastrophysics dropped consistently. 

My heart began to race and it suddenly dawned on me that this was not the “let’s look at star constellations and how the earth spins” Intro to the Universe course taught at Loyola, but a “let’s study dark matter, how and why galaxies form, and string theory” first step in the astrophysics track course. 

As people finished their conversations about the pains of organic and molecular chemistry and how they really weren’t even good at calculus and actually despised their anatomy class, I began the emails to drop the class. 

However it was too late for me to leave the lecture hall and so I remained for the class, curious for a glimpse into the world of intellectual science-minded people. The professor had Irish/Scottish accent, was skinny, pale, light-haired, and wore light colored clothing, pretty much what you could expect someone who has spent most of their days in a tower observing stars to look like. It only took him 4 minutes to make the obligatory Big Bang Theory TV show joke. It was very well received, probably because these students actually understand what they are talking about half of the time on the show unlike the rest of us who laugh at Sheldon’s social awkwardness instead of the science jokes we know are in there but just don’t understand. 

He began with an overview of the course, putting up pictures of splotches and blobs, dots and bubbles that were all supposed to be galaxies but would forever remain a child’s work of fingerpaint art to me. He said he knows that this isn’t a math/science major course, but calculus was needed: I didn’t make it past pre-calc junior year of high school and I’m pretty sure my scientific calculator is still in my locker. I knew my only chance to ever participate in the class was to answer the question what is plagiarism? as my years of english education had engrained in me the perils of plagiarism. 

At one point we had to turn to our partner and try to figure out how fast a lightyear is. She was stumped on how to convert meters into years, I was stumped on how to convert yards into meters and what a light year actually was. I laughed and tried to explain that I was dropping the class because it was different than at home. She looked at me and asked “astrophysics?” because how could something so scientific be different across the world? I said that the course at home is about looking at constellations and how the earth spins and then I laughed at myself because the idea that I was in an astrophysics class was an absolutely hilarious joke that nobody else could possibly understand. 

So because I was unwilling to spend the required 10-12 hours a week learning the inner workings of the universe I will never really know what a light year is. I still can’t answer “off the top of my head” the question“how old the universe is?” even though the response was given in class. And I will never know the answer to the cliffhanger question“are there more collisions between stars and stars or galaxies and galaxies?” 

In conclusion, to quote the astrologist professor, “the best way to learn is through physical pain,” and from that physically painful hour class I have learned that that hour I will be the only hour I ever spend as an astrophysicist.