<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620</id><updated>2011-10-05T05:14:41.507+07:00</updated><category term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Mark is in: Lippoland</title><subtitle type='html'>Here is your online source of my relevant and irrelevant thoughts.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-4984835895690812837</id><published>2011-03-28T10:51:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T10:55:43.834+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks to lent...</title><content type='html'>... I'm blogging again.  I have come off Facebook until after Easter, replacing one addiction with another.  I'm surprised at how much FB obsessed I am, and how I'm now considering how to replace this vast and shallow involvement in the lives of others with simpler, deeper friendships.  I do miss Facebook, but I wonder if I'll go back.  In a way it's freeing being away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-4984835895690812837?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/4984835895690812837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=4984835895690812837' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4984835895690812837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4984835895690812837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2011/03/thanks-to-lent.html' title='Thanks to lent...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-2726756198490062037</id><published>2011-03-28T10:44:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T10:50:33.232+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despite all my rage...</title><content type='html'>We had a rat in the classroom today.  Pandemonium.  This adds to the list of critters we have had in our room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Snake&lt;br /&gt;2. Bat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. Rat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think any of these top the baby kitten a colleague had in her ceiling a few years ago.  It spent a good amount of time mewing before security "efficiently dealt with it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-2726756198490062037?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/2726756198490062037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=2726756198490062037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2726756198490062037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2726756198490062037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2011/03/despite-all-my-rage.html' title='Despite all my rage...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-6565256706928283518</id><published>2009-04-25T08:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T08:12:07.639+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad News from Lippoland</title><content type='html'>Delifrance has closed.  No more Riz au Bouef.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-6565256706928283518?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/6565256706928283518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=6565256706928283518' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6565256706928283518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6565256706928283518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2009/04/sad-news-from-lippoland.html' title='Sad News from Lippoland'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7739508874533204088</id><published>2009-04-04T08:41:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T09:24:12.870+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Things Indonesian: Goats in My Neighbourhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBbANTcII/AAAAAAAAAZM/y4ZpNcuUCOA/s1600-h/IMG_1211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBbANTcII/AAAAAAAAAZM/y4ZpNcuUCOA/s320/IMG_1211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320652679441248386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBaz6wjUI/AAAAAAAAAZE/FvhPUnAtdxA/s1600-h/IMG_1206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBaz6wjUI/AAAAAAAAAZE/FvhPUnAtdxA/s320/IMG_1206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320652676142239042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBavN1hsI/AAAAAAAAAY8/tjMX8RX-JME/s1600-h/IMG_1205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBavN1hsI/AAAAAAAAAY8/tjMX8RX-JME/s320/IMG_1205.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320652674880079554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBaQPzDbI/AAAAAAAAAY0/DIkJyyfBY2E/s1600-h/IMG_1203.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBaQPzDbI/AAAAAAAAAY0/DIkJyyfBY2E/s320/IMG_1203.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320652666566806962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7739508874533204088?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7739508874533204088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7739508874533204088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7739508874533204088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7739508874533204088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2009/04/strange-things-indonesian-goats-in-my.html' title='Strange Things Indonesian: Goats in My Neighbourhood'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SdbBbANTcII/AAAAAAAAAZM/y4ZpNcuUCOA/s72-c/IMG_1211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-4457623249756370335</id><published>2009-03-31T20:59:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T21:26:34.726+07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Jakarta is a nice city offering a high standard of living"</title><content type='html'>This was a headline from the Jakarta Globe's Opinion page on March 27.  Here is the actual quote with a bit more context:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[Jakarta] is a very nice city offering a high standard of living.  Of course we all know about the two or three major negative aspects: the pollution, traffic and floods.  I was trapped in a traffic jam yesterday and it took me almost three hours to get home because it was raining."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brilliant line by the Tunisian ambassador to Indonesia, being interviewed about living in Jakarta.  This should really be used by Jakarta's &lt;a href="http://jakarta-tourism.go.id"&gt;travel bureau&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-4457623249756370335?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/4457623249756370335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=4457623249756370335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4457623249756370335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4457623249756370335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2009/03/jakarta-is-nice-city-offering-high.html' title='&quot;Jakarta is a nice city offering a high standard of living&quot;'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3464832867270568237</id><published>2009-01-20T22:26:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T22:46:41.261+07:00</updated><title type='text'>So it's late...</title><content type='html'>... and I really should be in bed, but as my friend Becky said, I haven't updated my blog lately, and I had an indo-moment I thought I'd share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becky and I went to Bistro Delifrance, which is one of many restaurants in our community.  I like it because it has good coffee and good breakfasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we went for a quick dinner.  She ordered some chicken sandwich thing.  I ordered "Riz au bouef"  (I tried to pronounce it the French way, but the waiter corrected me: "Rizobeef")  Anyhow, the Riz au bouef  was supposed to be a beef stew type dish over delicious oven-baked rice.  Sounds good, no?  Anyhow, the server mentioned it would take about half an hour.  We thought this alright, and ordered appetizers.  Everything came quickly, except the "Riz au bouef".  We waited half an hour, chatted about politics (specifically Obama's inauguration tonight) and leafed through newspapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riz au bouef: nowhere to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about school, about the workshop Becky was at and summer holidays... pretty soon an hour was up since we ordered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riz au bouef: yet to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we talked about the people who might be leaving indo, and the people we want to come back (hint: Liz Borchardt) and pretty soon an hour and a half had passed.  I waved to the waiter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Would you like your bill?" he asked &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bill?" I responded in alarm. "Where's the Riz au bouef?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter turns pale and has a glazy stare.  He darts into the kitchen, followed by Indonesian curse words.  A few minutes pass and he comes to our table with 5 'complimentary' slices of baguette with jam and butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then smoothly saunters through the restaurant, out the front door and into the restaurant next door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This isn't going to be good," I tell Becky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes pass, and the waiter walks past the window with a plate of white rice.  A waitress meets him at the front door and covers the rice with a paper serviette.  The man then walks through to the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes later I'm served Riz au bouef on a plate of plain white rice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Riz au bouef was nothing to write home about, but at least the story was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3464832867270568237?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3464832867270568237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3464832867270568237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3464832867270568237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3464832867270568237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-its-late.html' title='So it&apos;s late...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3996837947217417809</id><published>2008-11-17T20:26:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T20:36:15.563+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boycott Christmas!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SSFzIg_5CtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/pQuZ_aHCwzY/s1600-h/IMG_2351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SSFzIg_5CtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/pQuZ_aHCwzY/s320/IMG_2351.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269619629134252754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posted this last year, but feel it's relevant again at this time of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.adventconspiracy.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spend less on gifts.&lt;br /&gt;Give more presence.&lt;br /&gt;Love like Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3996837947217417809?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3996837947217417809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3996837947217417809' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3996837947217417809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3996837947217417809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/11/boycott-christmas.html' title='Boycott Christmas!!!'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SSFzIg_5CtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/pQuZ_aHCwzY/s72-c/IMG_2351.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1089009621384073553</id><published>2008-11-08T16:23:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T19:48:04.991+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Things Indonesian: The President is Watching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SRVdrlAM-bI/AAAAAAAAAYM/MiBjmlaYlRQ/s1600-h/IMG_0286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SRVdrlAM-bI/AAAAAAAAAYM/MiBjmlaYlRQ/s320/IMG_0286.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266218342528383410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something a little different here, is that in rooms where people tend to gather (like classrooms) it is common to have a picture of the president and vice president of Indonesia, with the pancisilla in between.  President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono is on the right and Vice President Muhammad Yusuf Kalla is on the left.  The photos are symbolically placed a little lower than the pancisilla (which represents the basic ideology of Indonesia).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up I remember having a large portrait of the Queen in our classroom, but she wasn't looking straight at us.  She was a silent observer of our maths and language lessons, patiently and gracefully standing next to the Tom Thomson print.  Bambang and Yusuf are looking at us, however, watching everything that happens.  If I go to another classroom, they're there again!  This is a bit of pressure not to corrupt these young minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SRVdr72JojI/AAAAAAAAAYU/1Dk_xB-uIgY/s1600-h/IMG_0287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SRVdr72JojI/AAAAAAAAAYU/1Dk_xB-uIgY/s320/IMG_0287.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266218348660236850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our school, each classroom has a picture of a blue-eyed Jesus too; a much more calming, pastoral element in the classroom  (and His portrait is placed a few inches above the presidents'.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1089009621384073553?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1089009621384073553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1089009621384073553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1089009621384073553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1089009621384073553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/11/strange-things-indonesian-president-is.html' title='Strange Things Indonesian: The President is Watching'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SRVdrlAM-bI/AAAAAAAAAYM/MiBjmlaYlRQ/s72-c/IMG_0286.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5850918723712447805</id><published>2008-10-25T22:31:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T22:55:46.293+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Things Indonesian: IndoCake</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking of making a series of 'different' things in Indonesia.  There are many, many things Indonesian I love, and a few (in my own ethnocentricity) that I don't quite get.  It's much more entertaining to hear about those followed by my jolly quips.   So here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM9mCFcYkI/AAAAAAAAAXo/IIdVn8pEPMI/s1600-h/IMG_0284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM9mCFcYkI/AAAAAAAAAXo/IIdVn8pEPMI/s320/IMG_0284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261116513302897218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indonesians love cake.  Every special event must have a cake and a banner (more on those later).  Cake in Indonesia is different from Canadian Cake.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the cake itself is usually spongy.  Not necessarily a bad thing, but it isn't the fluffy deliciousness one often enjoys in other cake-loving countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second of all, the icing is oily.  Not just a little oily, exxon valdez oily; I've immersed my lips in a tub of vaseline, oily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, cake may appear to be covered with white chocolate shavings (over oily icing).  Beware!  All is not what it appears.  Cake often comes with grated processed cheese on it.  I tell no lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not saying it's wrong.  I'm not saying it's right.  It just is."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5850918723712447805?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5850918723712447805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5850918723712447805' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5850918723712447805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5850918723712447805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/10/strange-things-indonesian-indocake.html' title='Strange Things Indonesian: IndoCake'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM9mCFcYkI/AAAAAAAAAXo/IIdVn8pEPMI/s72-c/IMG_0284.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5749134913517156783</id><published>2008-10-25T22:18:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T22:28:55.822+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I bought a Vespa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM6R-lf4uI/AAAAAAAAAXg/Bl7cpRqQuys/s1600-h/IMG_0601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM6R-lf4uI/AAAAAAAAAXg/Bl7cpRqQuys/s320/IMG_0601.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261112870231335650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've loved Vespa's ever since High School when my favourite album was MxPx's "Life in General" and they sang "take a ride on my Vespa, I'll take you home."  Maybe I'm a bit of a nostalgist, or maybe I'm one of those creepy people who can't grow past high school, but I still love them and finally bought one another teacher was selling.  She had named it 'Winston' but I quickly changed it to 'Winnifred' as I thought my bike should be a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the toughest looking thing, but you have to admit it rates high in the coolness quotient.  It's also a beast to drive... (I occasionally refer to it as 'the heifer')  as it only has a 2 stroke motor, and it weighs a little less than a Toyota Landcruiser.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5749134913517156783?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5749134913517156783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5749134913517156783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5749134913517156783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5749134913517156783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-bought-vespa.html' title='I bought a Vespa'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM6R-lf4uI/AAAAAAAAAXg/Bl7cpRqQuys/s72-c/IMG_0601.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5005271050248697671</id><published>2008-10-25T22:08:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T22:17:54.935+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince and Princess Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM4eZuqPmI/AAAAAAAAAXY/NK_QIpC4ENE/s1600-h/IMG_0280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM4eZuqPmI/AAAAAAAAAXY/NK_QIpC4ENE/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261110884652695138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Gr. 2 we had a Prince and Princess day to teach about respect, manners, and polite prince and princess behaviour.  We got to wear crowns.  It was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5005271050248697671?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5005271050248697671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5005271050248697671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5005271050248697671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5005271050248697671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/10/prince-and-princess-day.html' title='Prince and Princess Day'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SQM4eZuqPmI/AAAAAAAAAXY/NK_QIpC4ENE/s72-c/IMG_0280.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1816874236252459165</id><published>2008-08-15T17:02:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T17:12:19.792+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Persecution in Jakarta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SKVWdPS65UI/AAAAAAAAAQI/31YWF8eKLJc/s1600-h/IMG_0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SKVWdPS65UI/AAAAAAAAAQI/31YWF8eKLJc/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234685202210153794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, August 9, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a pretty exhausting day, emotionally.  A group of us from our church (Jakarta International Christian Fellowship) and our school went to visit the female students from the Setia Seminary, an evangelical seminary in East Jakarta.  These girls are currently camping in large military tents (with 40 to a tent) and basically waiting and praying to be allowed back onto their campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Setia Campus is located in Kampung Pulo in East Jakarta, where tensions have risen as a muslim group in the area have forced (to put it mildly) the students out of their campus.  Things escalated on July 25 when a student was accused by local residents of stealing from them.  Large groups of people surrounded the school throwing rocks and causing trouble.   Tensions remained high for three days until some village residents actually broke into the girls dormitories and physically assaulted female students.  The police decided the students must be evacuated.  At their worst, crowds surrounding the school were said to be around 10,000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the evacuation occurred, several students were seriously injured when people in the crowds threw acid on them.  17 students had to be hospitalized.  Although having police escort, police did little to stop thse assaults.  Apparently prior to these events, members of Islamic group canvassed the neighbourhood demanded residents sign a petition to get rid of the school.  Apparently they forced some, even Christian famililies, to sign the petition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the evacuation, government actions do not seem to be supporting the seminary.  The mayor of East Jakarta has even said that since the seminary is the minority, the government cannot do anything (so much for freedom of religion in Indonesia.)  The school is afraid the government will stall action long enough students will tire of waiting and will return to their home areas.  The school is also afraid if this happens, it could set a precedent for other Christian institutions in other neighbourhoods.  They hope Christians will not forget them, and will help get their story out internationally to put pressure on the Indonesian government to take more effective action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the 1500 Setia students, 400 have returned to their home areas, 500 girls are at a scout camp, and 600 boys are at a transit house.  Police have said no one is alloed back on the property, so students basically left with only the clothes on their back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting the female students was remarkable.  We came on the second day of a three-day fast, which broke at 4pm everyday.  We arrived during a prayer and worship time.  I sat and watched and was overwhelmed seeing this group of 500 girls praying so earnestly for something so emotional and personal.  At one point one of the leaders had them pray for food, as on Monday they would be totally relying on God to provide their meals.  This blew me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the prayer time, we met with a group of girls who were really excited to meet us.  It turns out they haven’t had a lot of visitors, and there really isn’t much to do at the site.  They told us about their personal experiences with the evacuation.  We talked about their needs, which included socks, shoes, and blankets, and even counseling for those seriously traumatized by the events.  The girls seemed to radiate joy despite their difficult and serious circumstances.  We chatted about our families, what we did, and their studies.  We enjoyed a game of Uno, which would provide a bit of relief from future boredom.  A couple of our team members gave their English Bibles to a couple of students, to which the students were grateful to the point of tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All students had to wear bright yellow cards around their necks with the word “Evakuasi.”  We asked Pak Jusuf (a professor of Setia) about this and said it was so outsiders could not infiltrate the group.  Aside from issues of theft or taking a meal, a major concern was that their persecutors might try to spy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of our visit we met one young man who had a t-shirt draped on his head, and a bandage on his arm.  He was one of the people injured by acid, and the t-shirt was covering recovering wounds on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For our group this visit stirred many emotions: anger, sadness, and even joy at seeing God’s provision.  Meeting these people who were enduring blatant persecution humbled me and made me take stock of my own life.  I worry about so many stupid things. God could take everything away, and he would still be good.  He would provide for my needs.  I also take my faith and ability to practice it for granted, as well as prayer.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an urgent, immediate need, and a people so fervent in prayer.  It makes my own commitment to praying seem trite and flimsy at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to return in a couple of weeks, but I do hope and pray they will have returned to their campus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1816874236252459165?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1816874236252459165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1816874236252459165' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1816874236252459165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1816874236252459165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/08/persecution-in-jakarta.html' title='Persecution in Jakarta'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SKVWdPS65UI/AAAAAAAAAQI/31YWF8eKLJc/s72-c/IMG_0066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1773271998649182026</id><published>2008-07-10T21:21:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T22:04:03.610+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parallel Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SHYjupP1dkI/AAAAAAAAAP8/e2guxLomUpQ/s1600-h/IMG_2691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SHYjupP1dkI/AAAAAAAAAP8/e2guxLomUpQ/s320/IMG_2691.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221400102235895362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have very mixed feelings about returning to Indo.  I really miss all of my friends, the community, and the school, but I do feel a bit of angst about being back there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before this holiday in Canada I spent 4 days in LK getting my apartment somewhat organized and visiting a few friends.  I had forgotten how different things were there compared to a 'developed' country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It almost feels like a parallel universe.  The rest of the world operates one way, and Indo goes completely the opposite direction.  Other places seem to have some order to them, Indo seems to have no order.  I've often said something as simple as going to the mall can be an adventure, and usually takes time and patience.  Finding 'small money' for a motorcycle taxi or a bus, finding said taxi or a bus, indicating where you want to go, retaining nerves of steel while driver negotiates heavy and chaotic traffic, the language, the culture, the pollution, the density... all of this before you even get to the shopping mall (which is a story in itself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my views are completely ethnocentric.  The majority of countries are developing (as Indo is) and probably have similar problems with corruption, pollution, and economy.  I know that Indo is probably even miles ahead of many developing countries.  Do I really have anything to complain about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the comforts of Canada and Australia.  Driving long distances with the radio on, walking to the market to pick up a few simple items, clean air, straightforward services in a familiar language.  Campfires.  Night skies with stars.  Clean water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my goal in these next few years will be to make Indo more of a home for myself, to find and personalize the comforts it has.  I want to learn the language.  I want to master Indo driving.  I want to get more massages.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1773271998649182026?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1773271998649182026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1773271998649182026' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1773271998649182026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1773271998649182026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/07/parallel-universe.html' title='Parallel Universe'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SHYjupP1dkI/AAAAAAAAAP8/e2guxLomUpQ/s72-c/IMG_2691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3845355984913100577</id><published>2008-07-04T09:36:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T10:18:51.005+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in Ontario...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SG2WVaajJFI/AAAAAAAAAP0/u-pZddIAvvk/s1600-h/IMG_4145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SG2WVaajJFI/AAAAAAAAAP0/u-pZddIAvvk/s320/IMG_4145.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218992837804368978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...all over Ontario, to be exact.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first, let me tell you how I got here.  I flew from Alice Springs to Darwin, spent the afternoon and night there.  Then flew to Denpasar, Bali (where I took this picture) on my way to Jakarta.  I spent 4 days in Jakarta and then flew to Singapore, and spent the night at the airport.  Early the next morning I flew to Tokyo, then to Minneapolis, then to Toronto.  That's 7 flights!  I think that's gotta be some kind of record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, so now I'm in Ontario.  I spent the first weekend with friends R &amp; D in Milton.  Went to the Farmer's Market and the strawberry festival there... good low-key fun.  Took the GO train from Oakville to Oshawa on the Sunday where I was picked up by Ma and Pa.  It was good to finally be back home after a week in transit.  The first week back was pretty low-key.  I went shopping for clothes and shoes, but just kind of kicked back.  On the Friday I went to Toronto to hang out with some friends from Indo... one from Simcoe and one from Chicago.  We saw Casa Loma, the CN tower, and watched the Atlanta braves warm up from the Hard Rock Cafe.  We then walked over to the Eaton Centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I've been at camp at Fair Havens, and I worked for 3 days in maintenance.  Yesterday I managed to get some septic time...  I helped dig out the lid for the septic tank, as it was filling up.  Thankfully it was pumped out soon after.  I then helped sort out recyclables for 2 hours.  Other than those jobs, I've been doing a bit of grass cutting, helping move and lift stuff, and raking dirt and wood chips.  It was good physical work, and best of all, it was MINDLESS!  I followed 2 teen staff around and they told me what to do.  I had very little responsibility.  It was heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I head to Presqu'ile for camping, and next week I believe I'll be hanging around the house in Lindsay, getting ready to fly back to Indonesia (I fly out July 13).  Thankfully I only have 4 flights back to Jakarta.  I fly Toronto-Detroit-Tokyo-Singapore (2 nights)-Jakarta.  I look forward to not flying for a while.  Airports and airplanes have this way of sucking your soul out of your rear-end, leaving you feeling like little more than a drone.  Maybe they put Nyquil in the food or melt a portion of your brain when you pass through the metal detectors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3845355984913100577?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3845355984913100577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3845355984913100577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3845355984913100577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3845355984913100577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-in-ontario.html' title='I am in Ontario...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/SG2WVaajJFI/AAAAAAAAAP0/u-pZddIAvvk/s72-c/IMG_4145.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-6196033121311741833</id><published>2008-05-05T18:30:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T18:37:23.500+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seyma the dog (and sidekick Skinny)</title><content type='html'>I have a small camp dog, whom you may have noticed in the pics below.  She started hanging around 2 months ago, and then disappeared out of the blue.  She has just returned from (I believe) a month long holiday in Alice Springs.  Follow the link to pictures of a revitalised Seyma (and her new friend, Skinny).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111834&amp;l=d820d&amp;id=688555192&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seyma has a small bed outside my front door, and I just noticed she has become a collector.  She has become a bit territorial, and has started keeping her treasures on her mat.  These include: 3 small bones, an old sock, her water dish, a plastic cookie tray, and a kangaroo vertebrate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-6196033121311741833?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/6196033121311741833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=6196033121311741833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6196033121311741833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6196033121311741833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/05/seyma-dog-and-sidekick-skinny_05.html' title='Seyma the dog (and sidekick Skinny)'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-8891716997657188846</id><published>2008-03-24T09:13:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T09:29:58.673+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Donkeys</title><content type='html'>We have 3 wild donkeys here in Ampilatwatja. They are a royal nuisance, getting into garbage, pooping on your doorstep, and waking you up with their asthmatic wheezing.  They're pretty smart too... they frequently come into my yard, turn on my garden tap and stick their heads under it for a drink.  This has flooded my front yard, causing grass to grow, which the donkeys like to then come and eat.  One thing leads to another and thank you gifts are left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am chasing one out of the schoolyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPW_DrlzI/AAAAAAAAAPY/HBRYjFZa6wA/s1600-h/March+1+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPW_DrlzI/AAAAAAAAAPY/HBRYjFZa6wA/s320/March+1+018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181126783871457074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPXPDrl0I/AAAAAAAAAPg/hGpUqCQlPMo/s1600-h/March+1+066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPXPDrl0I/AAAAAAAAAPg/hGpUqCQlPMo/s320/March+1+066.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181126788166424386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPXfDrl1I/AAAAAAAAAPo/x95Zgr7IW58/s1600-h/March+1+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPXfDrl1I/AAAAAAAAAPo/x95Zgr7IW58/s320/March+1+017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181126792461391698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-8891716997657188846?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/8891716997657188846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=8891716997657188846' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8891716997657188846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8891716997657188846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/03/donkeys.html' title='Donkeys'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cPW_DrlzI/AAAAAAAAAPY/HBRYjFZa6wA/s72-c/March+1+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7974579298198762728</id><published>2008-03-24T08:20:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T08:41:40.824+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Around Ampilatwatja</title><content type='html'>My humble abode.  I believe the architectural style is 'portable vernacular'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDJ_DrlwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/GBMM1_DtniY/s1600-h/March+1+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDJ_DrlwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/GBMM1_DtniY/s320/March+1+020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181113366393624322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just outside of Ampilatwatja... Honeymoon bore.  A romantic spot indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDKfDrlxI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Qw4wnPO5LVM/s1600-h/March+24+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDKfDrlxI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Qw4wnPO5LVM/s320/March+24+014.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181113374983558930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sign... don't miss the turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDK_DrlyI/AAAAAAAAAPM/2Du42nuWL2I/s1600-h/March+24+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDK_DrlyI/AAAAAAAAAPM/2Du42nuWL2I/s320/March+24+017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181113383573493538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7974579298198762728?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7974579298198762728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7974579298198762728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7974579298198762728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7974579298198762728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/03/around-ampilatwatja.html' title='Around Ampilatwatja'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R-cDJ_DrlwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/GBMM1_DtniY/s72-c/March+1+020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-8692406664257618203</id><published>2008-01-03T06:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T07:11:04.716+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Pics - Part 2</title><content type='html'>January 2, 9am.  Today started off at a chilly -17 C.  Brr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmJHAQDFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/eNSgGiPrEWk/s1600-h/IMG_3612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmJHAQDFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/eNSgGiPrEWk/s320/IMG_3612.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151034011745782866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some Mallard ducks on the Scugog.  They should really consider travelling to Florida for the winter.  Maybe we should all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmJnAQDGI/AAAAAAAAAOc/fvx1FLZ5-0Q/s1600-h/IMG_3613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmJnAQDGI/AAAAAAAAAOc/fvx1FLZ5-0Q/s320/IMG_3613.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151034020335717474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a snowplow, ready for action.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKHAQDHI/AAAAAAAAAOk/GxlUwcDAvVY/s1600-h/IMG_3616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKHAQDHI/AAAAAAAAAOk/GxlUwcDAvVY/s320/IMG_3616.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151034028925652082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wonderful brother looked forward to my return as he would have someone to share his shovelling responsibilities.  Here I am doing my duty, widening the driveway entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKXAQDII/AAAAAAAAAOs/1dNA_9OtrOg/s1600-h/IMG_3618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKXAQDII/AAAAAAAAAOs/1dNA_9OtrOg/s320/IMG_3618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151034033220619394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my creation, the shovelled path to the front door!  I believe the queen is the only one allowed to use this door.  The rest of us use the side door.  We're ready when you are Lizzy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKnAQDJI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rLJ3cs1hiXk/s1600-h/IMG_3621.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmKnAQDJI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rLJ3cs1hiXk/s320/IMG_3621.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151034037515586706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-8692406664257618203?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/8692406664257618203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=8692406664257618203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8692406664257618203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8692406664257618203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/01/winter-pics-part-2.html' title='Winter Pics - Part 2'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3wmJHAQDFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/eNSgGiPrEWk/s72-c/IMG_3612.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1309332302792603912</id><published>2008-01-02T07:09:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T07:39:58.781+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Pics - Part 1</title><content type='html'>Here is the first installment of my Canadian winter pictures.  They were taken last week, but there are more to come... we had a snowfall last night, so I'll be doing some shovelling soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my parent's house, and the pathway I'll be shovelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYtHAQDAI/AAAAAAAAANs/2kP1PTHF1b0/s1600-h/IMG_3603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYtHAQDAI/AAAAAAAAANs/2kP1PTHF1b0/s320/IMG_3603.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150667393337396226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the winter view from my parents' house... that is the Scugog river down below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYtXAQDBI/AAAAAAAAAN0/fJOSffkaPGY/s1600-h/IMG_3602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYtXAQDBI/AAAAAAAAAN0/fJOSffkaPGY/s320/IMG_3602.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150667397632363538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another view of the Scugog from a nearby footbridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYuHAQDCI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ALjfFwhcwj4/s1600-h/IMG_3604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYuHAQDCI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ALjfFwhcwj4/s320/IMG_3604.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150667410517265442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rare Canadian site: a miniature bushy tailed black kangaroo taking a winter bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYuXAQDDI/AAAAAAAAAOE/r6Mc-Ea9_ew/s1600-h/IMG_3606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYuXAQDDI/AAAAAAAAAOE/r6Mc-Ea9_ew/s320/IMG_3606.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150667414812232754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it's just a squirrel.  And its eating bird food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in Canada, eat Canadian beef, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYunAQDEI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pxJ7E3bbk8U/s1600-h/IMG_3608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYunAQDEI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pxJ7E3bbk8U/s320/IMG_3608.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150667419107200066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1309332302792603912?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1309332302792603912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1309332302792603912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1309332302792603912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1309332302792603912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2008/01/winter-pics-part-1.html' title='Winter Pics - Part 1'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3rYtHAQDAI/AAAAAAAAANs/2kP1PTHF1b0/s72-c/IMG_3603.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7754864301094418564</id><published>2007-12-31T07:58:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T08:17:44.763+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shots from Sydney</title><content type='html'>Becky B. came from Indo for a beautiful week in Old Bar and Sydney.  Here we are on the beach with Hoover, the dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBi3AQC7I/AAAAAAAAANE/LGSjNdWo7sE/s1600-h/IMG_3573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBi3AQC7I/AAAAAAAAANE/LGSjNdWo7sE/s320/IMG_3573.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149938241034521522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBjHAQC8I/AAAAAAAAANM/Z3ynWR8onr8/s1600-h/IMG_3575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBjHAQC8I/AAAAAAAAANM/Z3ynWR8onr8/s320/IMG_3575.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149938245329488834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am at the Three Sisters, at the Blue Mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBjnAQC9I/AAAAAAAAANU/tZu4bO7xHA8/s1600-h/IMG_3585.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBjnAQC9I/AAAAAAAAANU/tZu4bO7xHA8/s320/IMG_3585.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149938253919423442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge.  Here I am suiting up and getting my game face on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBkHAQC-I/AAAAAAAAANc/3OgmSVFY9k4/s1600-h/IMG_3594.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBkHAQC-I/AAAAAAAAANc/3OgmSVFY9k4/s320/IMG_3594.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149938262509358050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a hard climb, I had a nice rest on this concrete bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBknAQC_I/AAAAAAAAANk/O8795Zpor-4/s1600-h/IMG_3599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBknAQC_I/AAAAAAAAANk/O8795Zpor-4/s320/IMG_3599.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149938271099292658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7754864301094418564?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7754864301094418564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7754864301094418564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7754864301094418564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7754864301094418564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/12/shots-from-sydney.html' title='Shots from Sydney'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/R3hBi3AQC7I/AAAAAAAAANE/LGSjNdWo7sE/s72-c/IMG_3573.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7924920895634133808</id><published>2007-11-10T18:01:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T18:08:24.628+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me David Hasselhof</title><content type='html'>Many of you know I've been working on my bronze medallion over the past month, through the surf life saving club here in Old Bar.  I had my exam today and -good news- passed all aspects.  I can now officially patrol the beaches wearing the red shorts, yellow shirt, and fun yellow and red quartered cap.  The only disappointment is that you don't get an actual bronze medallion...  and that was what I was looking forward to most: wearing it around town and looking for lives to save.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I just might have to make my own... now just need to find some bronze.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7924920895634133808?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7924920895634133808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7924920895634133808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7924920895634133808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7924920895634133808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/11/just-call-me-david-hasselhof.html' title='Just call me David Hasselhof'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1339839765401946194</id><published>2007-10-30T15:21:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T15:34:23.495+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Boycott Christmas!!!</title><content type='html'>Actually, don't boycott entirely.... maybe just streamline.  I recently found this website called "Advent Conspiracy."  It's aiming to redirect the western thinking on we 'spend' Christmas.  There are lots of good alternatives to purchased Christmas presents.  Including ways to put our money to use for people who don't have the basic necessities.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.adventconspiracy.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year in Indonesia I did all of my shopping online...  I gave my parents 3 guinea pigs for a family in South America.  My parents asked me what they do with guinea pigs there... find out for yourself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www2.worldvision.ca/gifts/app?service=external/Gift&amp;sp=l2063&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1339839765401946194?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1339839765401946194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1339839765401946194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1339839765401946194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1339839765401946194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/10/boycott-christmas.html' title='Boycott Christmas!!!'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-4924937579157979228</id><published>2007-10-28T13:22:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T13:28:13.360+07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Humble Campsite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQrdPHlSEI/AAAAAAAAAMw/cRBqUGp60NY/s1600-h/IMG_3461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQrdPHlSEI/AAAAAAAAAMw/cRBqUGp60NY/s320/IMG_3461.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126270057129003074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQrePHlSFI/AAAAAAAAAM4/T-1njsUSGEk/s1600-h/IMG_3462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQrePHlSFI/AAAAAAAAAM4/T-1njsUSGEk/s320/IMG_3462.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126270074308872274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We discovered it wasn't a popular time of year for camping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-4924937579157979228?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/4924937579157979228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=4924937579157979228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4924937579157979228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4924937579157979228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/10/humble-campsite.html' title='A Humble Campsite'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQrdPHlSEI/AAAAAAAAAMw/cRBqUGp60NY/s72-c/IMG_3461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-294584584233619428</id><published>2007-10-28T13:04:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T13:17:36.747+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trip to Pataua Bay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnuvHlSBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Cq2B5E7GKeU/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnuvHlSBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Cq2B5E7GKeU/s320/IMG_3451.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126265959730202642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my friend  on our hilly trip to Pataua Bay... approximately 30km.  Hard work, especially pulling that trailer.  I was using M's wife's bike, which was pretty small, although light.  I managed fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnvPHlSCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/G7jwm_0n_XU/s1600-h/IMG_3456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnvPHlSCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/G7jwm_0n_XU/s320/IMG_3456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126265968320137250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call this one "Grazing Brown Cow on Hillside takes interest in Cyclists."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnvvHlSDI/AAAAAAAAAMo/k8gCk12ialo/s1600-h/IMG_3459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnvvHlSDI/AAAAAAAAAMo/k8gCk12ialo/s320/IMG_3459.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126265976910071858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the footbridge from one part of Pataua Bay to another.  There is no vehicle access bridge, so cars have to drive 30 minutes back into Whangerei and 30 minutes out again  if they want to drive from one part to the other.  I think the hike across the footbridge is much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-294584584233619428?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/294584584233619428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=294584584233619428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/294584584233619428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/294584584233619428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/10/trip-to-pataua-bay.html' title='The Trip to Pataua Bay'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RyQnuvHlSBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Cq2B5E7GKeU/s72-c/IMG_3451.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-606916456935257578</id><published>2007-10-23T15:30:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T15:44:27.868+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whangarei, New Zealand</title><content type='html'>I visited a friend from University in Whangarei, (North Island) New Zealand during my school break.  Here are some pics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y9sohB4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/EtoVUwqXVnY/s1600-h/IMG_3429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y9sohB4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/EtoVUwqXVnY/s320/IMG_3429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124448724040353666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A toilet picture is always the best way to start a photo journal.  I used a toilet in a pub in Whangarei.  I walked in and this was what I saw.  I panicked.  Where do I do my 'business'?  Where do I wash my hands?  I opted for the sit down toilet across the hall.  Looking at this picture afterwards I figured out which was which.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y-MohB5I/AAAAAAAAAMI/I9kiM8jrZqU/s1600-h/IMG_3436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y-MohB5I/AAAAAAAAAMI/I9kiM8jrZqU/s320/IMG_3436.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124448732630288274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This boat as in the middle of this roundabout.  I couldn't resist getting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y-cohB6I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/VNeVslX_tWA/s1600-h/IMG_3431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y-cohB6I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/VNeVslX_tWA/s320/IMG_3431.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124448736925255586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's yachting harbour in Whangarei.  People from all over the world dock here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-606916456935257578?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/606916456935257578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=606916456935257578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/606916456935257578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/606916456935257578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/10/whangarei-new-zealand.html' title='Whangarei, New Zealand'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rx2y9sohB4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/EtoVUwqXVnY/s72-c/IMG_3429.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3142310285525539627</id><published>2007-10-14T11:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T12:55:15.472+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been reading...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RxGirsohB3I/AAAAAAAAALw/kecFbp41Fgk/s1600-h/IMG_3500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RxGirsohB3I/AAAAAAAAALw/kecFbp41Fgk/s320/IMG_3500.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121053122896136050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading a lot over the past few months.  I picked up God’s Smuggler by Brother Andrew a while back and finished it just before my holidays.  Brother Andrew is about a Dutch man who started a ministry taking Bibles to communist countries in the 1950s and 60s.  Reading this led to a more well-known “Dutch” book called The Hiding Place, by Corrie Ten Boom.  If you’re not familiar with this book, it’s her family’s story of hiding Jewish people in the occupied Netherlands of World War II.  I was then given To Own a Dragon by Donald Millar, which is his thoughts on growing up without a father.  Now, I have just finished The Revolution, edited by Heather Zydek.  It is a compilation of essays on Christianity and social justice issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These books have been strangely following similar veins, and impressing on my brain two things.  First of all, God uses really ordinary people for incredibly exciting things.  Brother Andrew was an injured soldier who fought for the Dutch military.  Corrie Ten Boom was a watchmaker. Both seemed to be pretty ordinary up to certain points in their lives.  When they were confronted with the suffering of others, however, their lives became excitingly ‘dangerous.’  I hope I’m not romanticizing their work, but there is this element of serious risk that appeals to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other two books, To Own a Dragon and The Revolution have taken these thoughts a step further.  Both of these books commend readers to spend their resources on other people.  To Own a Dragon was a lighter (although wholly worthwhile) read, and impressed on me the importance of men mentoring fatherless boys.  While this was a funny and enjoyably quick read, The Revolution really depressed me at times, and I had to slow myself down to only a chapter a day.  I was frustrated to learn that human trafficking generates 9.5 Billion USD a year, 130 countries still practice torture, and that 150 children die every hour from illness due to unclean drinking water (and that was only 3 of 12 chapters!)  So what am I to do?  Facts like these do motivate me to do something, but also paralyze me by their sheer enormity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my problem is comfort... the more I focus on my own comfort, the less I can give for the "comfort" of others.  If I spend all my time making money so I can buy more toys for myself, I may feel more comfortable as I have cool stuff to spend my free time with, and stuff to show to my friends.  If I spend more time in service to others, maybe even using some of my time that I would ordinarily spend 'making money' to help others, I am sacrificing my own comfort for the comfort of others.  Maybe I could even take a job that pays less, but makes a bigger difference in the lives of others.  Maybe the money I do make could even buy less 'comfort' things for myself and more for the basic needs of others.  Maybe I could even try trusting God to provide my basic needs, and spend even more of my excess money on others.  Wait a second, doesn't Jesus talk about this?  And yet it sounds kind of dangerous to me, even exciting.  In fact, maybe it is a little revolutionary.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this has been my food for thought over the past few weeks.  I still have a long way to go... I mean, what exactly are my comforts?  What are my needs?  I'm going to go wash my Lexus right now while I think about it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3142310285525539627?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3142310285525539627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3142310285525539627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3142310285525539627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3142310285525539627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/10/ive-been-reading.html' title='I&apos;ve been reading...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RxGirsohB3I/AAAAAAAAALw/kecFbp41Fgk/s72-c/IMG_3500.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3752474432934925173</id><published>2007-09-16T14:43:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T14:49:21.292+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blue Tongued Lizard</title><content type='html'>We had a reptile guy come visit our school this week, and among an assortment of deadly Australian snakes he brought some friendly reptiles too.  My favourite was the blue-tongued lizard.  I discovered today friends of mine actually have a blue tongued lizard as a pet.  Here we are having a wee cuddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzfuAxQgtI/AAAAAAAAALg/SZVvtee-xgI/s1600-h/IMG_3248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzfuAxQgtI/AAAAAAAAALg/SZVvtee-xgI/s320/IMG_3248.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110705658732249810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzfuQxQguI/AAAAAAAAALo/ySD22UFVAVk/s1600-h/IMG_3249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzfuQxQguI/AAAAAAAAALo/ySD22UFVAVk/s320/IMG_3249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110705663027217122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried to get him to stick out his blue tongue, but he got a little camera shy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3752474432934925173?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3752474432934925173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3752474432934925173' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3752474432934925173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3752474432934925173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/09/blue-tongued-lizard.html' title='The Blue Tongued Lizard'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzfuAxQgtI/AAAAAAAAALg/SZVvtee-xgI/s72-c/IMG_3248.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5119367101411752376</id><published>2007-09-16T14:37:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T14:41:54.972+07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Old Bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzdtAxQgrI/AAAAAAAAALQ/R_jf_D4X3d8/s1600-h/IMG_3245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzdtAxQgrI/AAAAAAAAALQ/R_jf_D4X3d8/s320/IMG_3245.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110703442529125042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is 'downtown' Old Bar, not much, but it's alright for a town of 3000.  We have a number of cafes, a pharmacy, a bottlo (liquor store), news agency, and bakery.  Oh ya, the world's tiniest library too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzdtQxQgsI/AAAAAAAAALY/_C7SE27AFnQ/s1600-h/IMG_3247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzdtQxQgsI/AAAAAAAAALY/_C7SE27AFnQ/s320/IMG_3247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110703446824092354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Bilo... my favourite place to get groceries in Old Bar.  It's pretty swanky, and pretty cheap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5119367101411752376?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5119367101411752376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5119367101411752376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5119367101411752376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5119367101411752376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/09/this-is-old-bar.html' title='This is Old Bar'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzdtAxQgrI/AAAAAAAAALQ/R_jf_D4X3d8/s72-c/IMG_3245.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5406243307697916192</id><published>2007-09-16T14:26:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T14:36:55.710+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mountain Man</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I had the opportunity to go camping with a M and C from church with their family.  M was in the "Mountain Man" triathalon, which includes biking, running, and kayaking.  Sadly, the kayaking was cancelled due to high levels of the river.  Still was a great time in a beautiful part of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc7gxQgoI/AAAAAAAAAK4/P721-w5fIAU/s1600-h/IMG_3235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc7gxQgoI/AAAAAAAAAK4/P721-w5fIAU/s320/IMG_3235.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110702592125600386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc7wxQgpI/AAAAAAAAALA/lILNm19mkV0/s1600-h/IMG_3240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc7wxQgpI/AAAAAAAAALA/lILNm19mkV0/s320/IMG_3240.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110702596420567698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc8QxQgqI/AAAAAAAAALI/OmWPlMXR-Q8/s1600-h/IMG_3237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc8QxQgqI/AAAAAAAAALI/OmWPlMXR-Q8/s320/IMG_3237.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110702605010502306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5406243307697916192?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5406243307697916192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5406243307697916192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5406243307697916192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5406243307697916192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/09/mountain-man.html' title='Mountain Man'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Ruzc7gxQgoI/AAAAAAAAAK4/P721-w5fIAU/s72-c/IMG_3235.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-2802978946556127347</id><published>2007-09-16T14:23:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T14:25:59.207+07:00</updated><title type='text'>new underwear</title><content type='html'>I was looking for new underwear the other day, and came across these.  This sticker sold me.  They are indeed....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzaaQxQgnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/XVTsKMT1PCw/s1600-h/IMG_3223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzaaQxQgnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/XVTsKMT1PCw/s320/IMG_3223.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110699821871694450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-2802978946556127347?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/2802978946556127347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=2802978946556127347' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2802978946556127347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2802978946556127347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/09/new-underwear.html' title='new underwear'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RuzaaQxQgnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/XVTsKMT1PCw/s72-c/IMG_3223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-6225225429495001327</id><published>2007-08-20T19:17:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:31:21.073+07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Book Week...</title><content type='html'>so please pray for me.  I was bitten and headbutted today.  And I had some kindergarten children plan a revolt against me.  Two of them tried to steal some of the book fair items.  I had to go through their bags and pockets to see exactly what they had stolen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hate selling things; I am not a salesman, and half the stuff in this book fair is crap.  I want to tell the children to avoid the nic nac table and buy from the limited selection of fine Australian children's literature that we have.  By the end of the day, there were books all over the place, cheetos ground into the carpet, and children crying as the 'biter' had stolen their muesli bars.  I tried to put a video on in the av room for some peace (a very low quality imitation of the Jungle Book) but they found pounding the piano more fun.  I have a raging headache so I think I'll go find some Panadol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-6225225429495001327?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/6225225429495001327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=6225225429495001327' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6225225429495001327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/6225225429495001327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/08/its-book-week.html' title='It&apos;s Book Week...'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-1642633972637758243</id><published>2007-08-19T14:44:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T14:53:52.989+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rsf1aavBheI/AAAAAAAAAKo/OFJjD5j_oX4/s1600-h/IMG_3219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rsf1aavBheI/AAAAAAAAAKo/OFJjD5j_oX4/s320/IMG_3219.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100314937222333922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taree is the home of Saxby's, an Australian pop company.  They make the Aussie favourite 'Ginger Beer' but also this, which I discovered at the Coles supermarket in Taree.  It is Sarsparilla, or Root Beer as us North Americans call it.  Aussies are famous for giving nicknames to things, and shortening names.  This one is particularly ominous for Canadians, however...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-1642633972637758243?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/1642633972637758243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=1642633972637758243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1642633972637758243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/1642633972637758243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/08/sars.html' title='Sars'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rsf1aavBheI/AAAAAAAAAKo/OFJjD5j_oX4/s72-c/IMG_3219.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-8241838825011366828</id><published>2007-08-19T12:25:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:36:21.645+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to ride my bicycle</title><content type='html'>The Old Bar area is a fanastic place to go bike riding.  We have a large nature reserve nearby that you can ride around for hours in and not see another soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXB6vBhZI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yaeL_-KfDHQ/s1600-h/IMG_3204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXB6vBhZI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yaeL_-KfDHQ/s320/IMG_3204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100281530966705554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am with one of the road signs along Old Bar Road.  I don't usually like photos of myself, but thought I should have one with my Indonesian bike in Australia... to prove I'm really here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXCavBhaI/AAAAAAAAAKI/fVQwU1zOdds/s1600-h/IMG_3214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXCavBhaI/AAAAAAAAAKI/fVQwU1zOdds/s320/IMG_3214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100281539556640162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXC6vBhbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MkHwiGVzpUc/s1600-h/IMG_3215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXC6vBhbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MkHwiGVzpUc/s320/IMG_3215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100281548146574770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a bit stuck in this large puddle...  I tried riding around but slipped into it.  The bike is standing up on its own due to the thick layer of mud at the bottom of this small pond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXDKvBhcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/A2qCyMGDlo4/s1600-h/IMG_3205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXDKvBhcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/A2qCyMGDlo4/s320/IMG_3205.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100281552441542082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Old Bar, they sell it by the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXDqvBhdI/AAAAAAAAAKg/9RcVmKEcn_s/s1600-h/IMG_3206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXDqvBhdI/AAAAAAAAAKg/9RcVmKEcn_s/s320/IMG_3206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100281561031476690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people ask you where you live, you are meant to turn your nose up and say in a snooty voice "ald baa... the seasoide huy-ven."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-8241838825011366828?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/8241838825011366828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=8241838825011366828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8241838825011366828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8241838825011366828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-want-to-ride-my-bicycle.html' title='I want to ride my bicycle'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RsfXB6vBhZI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yaeL_-KfDHQ/s72-c/IMG_3204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5319623181802333830</id><published>2007-08-19T11:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T12:24:59.870+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teaching</title><content type='html'>2 weeks ago I started teaching at a school where the majority of students come from disadvantaged backgrounds.  I don't know half of the stuff that goes on at these kids' homes, but I have been told abuse, neglect, and instability is the norm for many of these kids.  And they don't let you forget it!  They show their scars in their words, their actions towards each other and to teachers.  They don't seem like a happy bunch on the outset, certainly not a group that appears to enjoy school (at least as I have been indoctrinated that 'kids love to learn').  For these the school setting provides stability that is uncommon... adults who are trustworthy, have firm guidelines, who have standards and morals that structure the way they act and treat others.  These first two weeks have been trying...  I am exposed to and am aware of some brutal situations.  These things make me uncomfortable.  I am used to being surrounded by stable people and stable situations (even in Indonesia).  Working at this school is unpredictable, stressful, and even emotional.  I want to yank them out of their homes and maybe yell at their parents for the stupid things they do.  As much as I may stress, however, I'm loving this job.  The kids are genuinely lovable, and the more I am around them the more I enjoy them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if maybe these are the kind of kids Jesus had around him.  The ones that smell funny and swear and kick you and stab each other with pencils.  I've always assumed the children that came to Jesus were the nice ones, the boy scouts and girl guides.  Maybe some were, but if the kids that came to Jesus were anything like the adults that came to him, I suspect they were the ones with whom nobody really  wanted to bother.  Maybe that's another reason I like working with them.  There's no pretension.. no need to impress them.  They appreciate your attention, even though it may not be obvious.  One minute they might be yelling swear words at you in the library, but at recess you can be throwing a ball with them in the playground.  And every minute of positive interaction seems to cancel out those times of argument and rebellion.  I hope these good times will gradually chip away at the shell they've grown to protect themselves and eventually see God's grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5319623181802333830?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5319623181802333830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5319623181802333830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5319623181802333830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5319623181802333830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/08/teaching.html' title='Teaching'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-4093768654231897781</id><published>2007-07-29T10:49:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T10:51:23.125+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jarrod</title><content type='html'>I taught a Gr. 2 class yesterday.  One boy was named Jarrod.  As I called out the names, the class protested when I called out Jarrod’s name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class: “It’s not Jarrod, it’s Jay-rod” they said.&lt;br /&gt;Me: “Jay-rod?”&lt;br /&gt;Class: “No, Jah-rod”&lt;br /&gt;Me: “Jah-rod?”&lt;br /&gt;Class: “Ja-rod”&lt;br /&gt;Me: “Ja-rod”&lt;br /&gt;Class: “No, Jarrod”&lt;br /&gt;Me: “Jarrod?”&lt;br /&gt;Class: “Ya, that’s it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-4093768654231897781?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/4093768654231897781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=4093768654231897781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4093768654231897781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/4093768654231897781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/jarrod.html' title='Jarrod'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-2829161379974614201</id><published>2007-07-28T20:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T20:12:38.244+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's the title?</title><content type='html'>This blog should be titled "Mark is in: Old Bar" but the title doesn't show up.  What gives?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-2829161379974614201?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/2829161379974614201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=2829161379974614201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2829161379974614201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2829161379974614201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/wheres-title.html' title='Where&apos;s the title?'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-2412106086459756699</id><published>2007-07-28T20:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T20:10:44.199+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures of my house</title><content type='html'>Here are some pictures of the house I'm sharing.  It's got lots of room and views of the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_U9g-Q5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/G26czugOJ0U/s1600-h/house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_U9g-Q5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/G26czugOJ0U/s320/house.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092233433015272338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The official photo of 11 Old Bar Rd.  I feel pretty important living in an actual house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_Vdg-Q6I/AAAAAAAAAJw/C9gEX2lNzQM/s1600-h/IMG_3172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_Vdg-Q6I/AAAAAAAAAJw/C9gEX2lNzQM/s320/IMG_3172.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092233441605206946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the view from the balcony.  That is the ocean my friends.  I can go surfing there... when I learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_V9g-Q7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/GsOCyEhwKuM/s1600-h/IMG_3180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_V9g-Q7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/GsOCyEhwKuM/s320/IMG_3180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092233450195141554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I could not bring my Indonesian maid to Australia without marrying her.  Alas, I am washing, hanging, and ironing my own laundry.  Shed a tear for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-2412106086459756699?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/2412106086459756699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=2412106086459756699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2412106086459756699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/2412106086459756699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/pictures-of-my-house.html' title='Pictures of my house'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs_U9g-Q5I/AAAAAAAAAJo/G26czugOJ0U/s72-c/house.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-3321299318815571176</id><published>2007-07-28T19:51:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T19:59:43.434+07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 2, 2007, Old Bar / Taree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9e9g-Q2I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/o8RB7Vtx-1w/s1600-h/dresser.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9e9g-Q2I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/o8RB7Vtx-1w/s320/dresser.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092231405790708578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9fdg-Q3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/7KIrjFSroFQ/s1600-h/shoes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9fdg-Q3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/7KIrjFSroFQ/s320/shoes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092231414380643186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9f9g-Q4I/AAAAAAAAAJg/8VmJk9zVtNE/s1600-h/dash.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9f9g-Q4I/AAAAAAAAAJg/8VmJk9zVtNE/s320/dash.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092231422970577794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I missed Canada Day yesterday!  I got to the end of the day, looked at my watch and realized it was July 1st!!  I felt like a terrible Canadian.  I did feel better knowing that Canada Day in my-neck-of-the woods Ontario didn’t technically start until 3pm Sydney time.  So I wished Canada a happy birthday a day late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today was a day full of terrific adventures.  Let me tell you about them all.  I woke up at 6:07 without an alarm clock (which was set for 7).  Being up so early I did some laundry, ironed a shirt, and watched the morning show while eating toast and peanut butter.&lt;br /&gt; I had an appointment for my car at 8am in Taree (about a 15 minute drive out of Old Bar).  I had a bunch of little things to get fixed as well as a service.  I found out the car would take until 3:30 in the afternoon (!) so I would have the opportunity to get to know Taree very well.&lt;br /&gt; I started walking toward the downtown area.  Stopped at a glass place to price a piece of glass for an old desk top.  $71.00.  No thanks.  &lt;br /&gt;Continued to walk towards the downtown area, and realized very little was going to be open.  So, I went to a café and had a cappuccino.  Saw a guy from church there, picking up coffees for the staff at his work.  We chatted for a minute, and then I read the Manning Times.  A very exciting read as always.&lt;br /&gt;I then headed towards the Salvation Army Thrift Store, or ‘Salvos’ as they’re called here.  I was looking for a dresser for my clothes. Currently my clothes are sitting on my floor, laying on and around my backpack.  Some are hung up on a clothes rack, but most are not.  Salvos had some interesting things, but no dresser.&lt;br /&gt;I headed to the Lifeline op-shop and they had 3 dressers, obviously from 3 different periods of time.  Candidate A was a 1960’s dresser made of formica or some other wood-alike material.  Candidate B I think was from the 1950’s and had a door that hid the drawers.  Candidate C was a wooden dresser from the 1940’s with two giant drawers.  I opted for Candidate C, as the drawers could hold all of my clothes, and it was a pretty cool piece of furniture.&lt;br /&gt;I got some money at the bank, paid for the dresser, and then walked further down the road.  Saw another guy from church who works at Retravision.  We chatted and talked about going biking some time.&lt;br /&gt;Around the corner was a travel agent, and I thought I should check out flight details for Christmas.  It turns out it will be about $1900 if I go after Christmas, and $2400 if I go before… ugh.  Mahal Sekali.  Maybe I’ll just buy a canoe and start paddling this week.&lt;br /&gt;Going to the library I wanted to check my email, and was able to, thanks to the library card I obtained on the weekend.  Free internet!  Praise!&lt;br /&gt;I spent an hour on the net, and by this time it was 12, and thought I’d putter around a bit.  Went to an import furniture shop and saw some nice but well overpriced items.  I then went to Subway for a 6” ham sub with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and honey mustard sauce.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch I thought I’d go back and sleep at the library, as my adventures had made me sleepy.  Instead of the library I ended up at this clothes store and looked at shoes.  I only have 2 pairs of shoes, and one pair looks really raddy (I bought them with Julie T in 2003) and another that are black and were worn with my school uniform in Indo.  I hate trying on shoes cuz my feet are wider than they are long and have cathedral sized arches.  After about an hour I did find a rather snazzy pair of green not-too-sporty, not-too-dressy shoes.&lt;br /&gt;The plan was then to start back to the car place (it was 3 by this time).  I passed by ‘The Fight Centre’ and thought I’d check out prices.  It turned out the agent I talked to was from Cambridge, Ontario… small world!  I think we both felt that Taree wasn’t big enough for two Canadians.  She looked into a cheap flight for me… don’t think I’ll go for it… Sydney-Fiji-Honolulu-Los Angeles-Chicago-Detroit-Toronto.  Yes, that’s 5 changes… right.&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of this I got a call that my car was ready.  $293.  I think I’ll be swimming to Canada for the Christmas.&lt;br /&gt; I arrived at the mechanics knowing they were going to remove the instrument panel to send away the odometer to be fixed.  I didn’t know they would remove the driver’s side dash!  It turned out, I would not be able to use my hazard lights, rear defroster, or my turning blinkers as a result of this.  I would be able to drive home, but not really use the car in the mean-time.  Oh right… fixing the odo will be another $250… sigh.&lt;br /&gt; Thought I’d end the day by going for a swim.  The pool was pretty empty which was most excellent for a swim.  Went to the hot tub after as my reward.  A lady had been taking lessons beside me in the pool, and we chatted about swimming and horseback riding.  She is learning both, and found swimming might come in handy as her horse got her into interesting situations involving water.&lt;br /&gt; I was thinking a quick trip to the steam room was needed after the whirlpool.  A big aboriginal guy was in there.  It turned out he was a preacher and had been all over the world.  He told me a bit of his background, how he led a gang and was into drugs and pimping before he met Jesus.  He gave me a bottle of water, which was good, as I was interested in talking to him, but feeling as though I was going to pass out from the heat.&lt;br /&gt; It was dark by this time, and I suddenly realized as other things in my car were not working, my lights might not be as well.  After I had dried off and changed I approached the car with a lot of prayer.  I did not know how I would get home if the lights didn’t work.  Thankfully they did, and I would only have to make two turns to make it home.  No accidents, and I was able to judge speeds by what other people were driving and what gear I was in.&lt;br /&gt; I arrived home and thought I’d pop in on my neighbours, AKA my new bestest friends.  I wanted to know if they knew of a spare ‘ute’ hanging around that I could use to get my dresser home.  They said they could try strapping it to the roof of their SUV and I agreed to look after their kids while they did this.  Community is a wonderful thing.  They then asked me to join them for dinner, which was fresh fish.  After that G was working on an art piece using bits of broken glass.  It was amazing watching her doing her work and looking at the pieces of glass and carefully finding places to put them.  Really interesting.  &lt;br /&gt; So there you have it, my exciting day.  I hope each day turns out this eventful.  It is now 9:37 and I’m falling asleep as I type this.  Good night and hope you get to read it soon.  I still don’t have internet, but will take this to the Old Bar internet café tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-3321299318815571176?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/3321299318815571176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=3321299318815571176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3321299318815571176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/3321299318815571176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/july-2-2007-old-bar-taree.html' title='July 2, 2007, Old Bar / Taree'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/Rqs9e9g-Q2I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/o8RB7Vtx-1w/s72-c/dresser.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5761189011634313806</id><published>2007-07-28T19:48:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T19:51:16.142+07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 26, 2007, Old Bar</title><content type='html'>Friday went very well… I worked with a difficult class, but we all survived with no tears… an apparent success.  I then picked up the car, and enjoyed a low-key Saturday.  Went to a local church Sunday Morning…. It was nice, and the people were really friendly, but not a lot of people around my age.  I’m not sure what to do, whether to try others or stay where I’ve started.  I would really like to meet some people to hang around with…&lt;br /&gt; Worked at the school ½ hour away yesterday and today… it’s been rainy, so the kids have been squirrelly.    I feel like I have to stand on my head to try to get them to listen.&lt;br /&gt; I’m finding television here a little obnoxious.  I’m watching this duo singing contest called “it takes two” and the host is on some kind of narcotics… he’s really quite happy, suspiciously so.  “Deal or No Deal” is a game show that has another host-with-issues.  I am frankly annoyed.  I am enjoying Home and Away…  it’s on like every night, and always good, wholesome entertainment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5761189011634313806?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5761189011634313806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5761189011634313806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5761189011634313806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5761189011634313806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/june-26-2007-old-bar.html' title='June 26, 2007, Old Bar'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-5698783734150861205</id><published>2007-07-28T11:21:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T11:27:49.938+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Car</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFntg-QyI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gZo_0dkMEBk/s1600-h/carback.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFntg-QyI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gZo_0dkMEBk/s320/carback.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092099614719230754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFoNg-QzI/AAAAAAAAAI4/YSRtgGoFGos/s1600-h/carfrnt.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFoNg-QzI/AAAAAAAAAI4/YSRtgGoFGos/s320/carfrnt.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092099623309165362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFotg-Q0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6UPX3BzEogM/s1600-h/IMG_3146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFotg-Q0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6UPX3BzEogM/s320/IMG_3146.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092099631899099970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFpNg-Q1I/AAAAAAAAAJI/7l9YshvRqGk/s1600-h/IMG_3143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFpNg-Q1I/AAAAAAAAAJI/7l9YshvRqGk/s320/IMG_3143.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092099640489034578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is... the '91 Pulsar for your viewing pleasure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-5698783734150861205?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/5698783734150861205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=5698783734150861205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5698783734150861205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/5698783734150861205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/car.html' title='The Car'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrFntg-QyI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gZo_0dkMEBk/s72-c/carback.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-516938980499848197</id><published>2007-07-28T11:20:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T11:21:50.977+07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 21, 2007, Old Bar, NSW</title><content type='html'>June 21, 2007&lt;br /&gt;Old Bar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I woke before the alarm this morning… feeling a little chilly.  The house is technically a beach house with lots of louvered windows and no form of heating,.  So the outside cold seems to seep right in.  I was sleeping with a sweater on and quickly threw on some socks.  Once at the school, I sent off some emails, and then went to Wingham to take the Pulsar for its check in Taree.  It took me a while to find the place… it was one my host recommended, a place run by a family at the school.  I went up and down the street looking for the place… eventually stopped at an electrical supply store and asked… no idea.  I went down the street to turn around at a gas bar, and got stuck… there was an incline I had to stop on, and I couldn’t get up it!  I kept stalling.  I finally backed the car onto the busy street and tried again with success.  I then drove to the other end and asked at a plumbing place.  The guy I  spoke with knew the guy at the car place, so he gave me directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; They gave the car a thorough look over, and delivered the verdict: a split alternator belt, something leaking oil, worn rear tires, and a few other general maintenance things.  On the way back to Wingam I also discovered the odometer was broken!  Arg…  I tried to bargain a cheaper price, but I couldn’t quite bargain it to where I wanted, so I went away to think.  After expert consultation (with my host) I decided to go with the price they asked, as I had already spent time with and money on the car, and I really did like it.  Not an easy car to drive (don’t think it has power steering) but it’s got a bit of juice.  It looks pretty sporty too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; While in Wingham, I also visited a school and they seemed excited to have me.  They have booked me all next week (another good reason to get the car).  So I’m excited that I’ll have a bit of money in the bank account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Came back to Old Bar, and went for a walk along the beach… beautiful.  I am happy to be living in this little burg, and I’ve found out I’m able to billet with my host when he moves to his new house.  It’s hard to believe a week ago I was finishing up classes with my students in Indonesia.  There were so many things I was worried about and God has shown faithful in working out the details.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is my first day in an Aussie school, and I hope it goes well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-516938980499848197?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/516938980499848197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=516938980499848197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/516938980499848197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/516938980499848197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/june-21-2007-old-bar-nsw.html' title='June 21, 2007, Old Bar, NSW'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7463932288368701179</id><published>2007-07-28T11:19:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T11:20:02.880+07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 20, 2007, 7:20pm, Old Bar, NSW</title><content type='html'>June 20, 2007&lt;br /&gt;7:20pm&lt;br /&gt;Old Bar, NSW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today was so busy….  I was on my way to visit a school when I saw this sweet 91 “Toyota Lexcen” station wagon for sale… looked really good for camping.  So I called the number and went to the school.  I met the principal and then remembered I had an appointment to see him the next day.  Arg.  My brain is still in Indonesia… and I need to buy a day planner and not rely on post it notes.  Anyhow, I’m scheduled to work on Friday!  Praise God!  I’m excited, but this is supposed to be a rough school….  And I’m afraid Indonesia has softened me up.  I was pretty tough as a sub in Canada, so we’ll see if I can regain that image.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After that meeting I got a call to see the wagon… it was in pretty rough shape.  It started with a bit of a rattle and I tried to roll the drivers’ side window down and it fell off the track.  Went for a drive… it lumbered like a tank.  It was pretty dirty too, and was obviously smoked in (the ashtray overflowing with cigarettes was only my second clue).  One rear door wouldn’t open from the outside, the antenna was broken, and there was a crack in the windshield.  So I passed on that one.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My second car was a 96 Ford Falcon.  It is a bit of a grandpa car and drinks gas like it’s free.  It was nice to drive (as grandpa cars are) and had enough room for all the grandkids.   It had a great price and even though it was an enemy of God’s creation, I liked it.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The last car I looked at was a 91 Nissan Pulsar “Vectra”.  Pulsar was in small words, and Vectra in big words.  I don’t know what that means.  I The Pulsar here is more like our Nissan Sentra…   very similar to Old Rita….*tears*  and it was bright red!  Just like old times.  This car had a standard transmission and really wasn’t the easiest thing to drive.  It was definitely clean, however, and the body was in good shape.  Only 191,000 km too (which was relatively low).  It had an alarm and a subwoofer in the boot.  The only drawback was it was more than I was wanting to pay.  The lady selling it did come down in price to something more in my budget.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So, I hmmmed and hawed and talked to my host at the Christian School… he reckoned the Pulsar would use half as much gas as the Falcon.  So, I decided to go with the Pulsar…  The extra gas savings will make it worth it, so I would continue to be a friend of the earth.  I may remove the subwoofer, as I’m not really into a lot of noise and I want the trunk space for my stuff.  I think I may christen her “Rita” Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was Wednesday, my friends.  I have accomplished much in these 3 days.  Tomorrow I will try to get said car arranged, arrange some tax stuff, and heck, maybe I’ll try to publish these blog entries to my blog!  I’m exhausted and need a vacation…  In just over a week is a two week holiday… I may splurge and actually go somewhere, car pending.  I just need some friends now, who might want to go.  Maybe, with a cool car, friends will flock to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a bit lonely without you folks.  I miss you and wish you were all here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7463932288368701179?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7463932288368701179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7463932288368701179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7463932288368701179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7463932288368701179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/june-20-2007-720pm-old-bar-nsw.html' title='June 20, 2007, 7:20pm, Old Bar, NSW'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-8124752349527648297</id><published>2007-07-28T11:16:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T11:18:36.744+07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 19, 2007, 8:00pm, Old Bar, NSW</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrDj9g-QxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/3ctb8H90s0c/s1600-h/schoolbus.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrDj9g-QxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/3ctb8H90s0c/s320/schoolbus.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092097351271465746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 19, 2007&lt;br /&gt;8:00pm&lt;br /&gt;Old Bar, NSW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I arrived last night in Taree.  My host met me at the train station in his school’s bus.  The good news is that my stuff fit.  AND I got a tour of Taree and Old Bar.  What a busy day.  At least I didn’t have to worry about my stuff getting to the house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a very busy day, but a good one.  I went to the Christian school to visit… it went very well… met lots of people and am ready to do some relief teaching.  I also called a number of area public schools and have arranged to meet some principals.  In the afternoon I was able to borrow the principal’s Renault Laguna.  That’s a car, for you residents of North America.  A very nice car indeed.  To start it you have to put this electronic card into the dashboard and push a button.  SO HIGH TECH.  I zipped around Taree, and learned how to drive roundabouts.  People don’t like it if you don’t follow the roundabout rules, and people let me know when I didn’t.  Apparently, you need to yield to the right.  It requires thinking… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, once in Taree I went around and arranged a SIM card for my handphone, a phone card to use for a land line, and I got my banking finalized.  I also looked at computer printers, but didn’t buy.  Must… save… money…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may be buying a car.  I’ll be looking this weekend.  I saw a Suzuki Sierra today, which is a 1.3 litre 4 wheel drive buggy… not a lot of guts, but it looked like a fun car.  In the newspaper is a little Daihatsu, a Holden Commodore (GM), a Ford Falcon, and a Nissan Pulsar.  I am really nervous about this whole car thing…  It’s a big investment.  It feels like a huge commitment.  It’s making me a bit sick to my stomach.  I think I need a drumstick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-8124752349527648297?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/8124752349527648297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=8124752349527648297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8124752349527648297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/8124752349527648297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/june-19-2007-800pm-old-bar-nsw.html' title='June 19, 2007, 8:00pm, Old Bar, NSW'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrDj9g-QxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/3ctb8H90s0c/s72-c/schoolbus.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6447552471120849620.post-7253654622321289568</id><published>2007-07-28T11:07:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T11:15:05.542+07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 18, 2007, 11:30 AM Sydney NSW</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCHtg-QuI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/rtsRnnNJpqw/s1600-h/Airportgoodbye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCHtg-QuI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/rtsRnnNJpqw/s320/Airportgoodbye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092095766428533474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCI9g-QvI/AAAAAAAAAIY/xGRnJ98NH6s/s1600-h/trainstationtble.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCI9g-QvI/AAAAAAAAAIY/xGRnJ98NH6s/s320/trainstationtble.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092095787903369970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCJ9g-QwI/AAAAAAAAAIg/-JQ-VBWhSxk/s1600-h/leavingcentral.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCJ9g-QwI/AAAAAAAAAIg/-JQ-VBWhSxk/s320/leavingcentral.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092095805083239170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently in my train at the Sydney Central Station waiting to depart for Taree.  I thought I’d start to blog on my comp to help pass the time and get some of my thoughts sorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I left Lippo last night; a sad venture.  This has, however, been the longest goodbye of my life.  It started two weeks ago with our “Amazing Race Lippo Karawaci” which was organized for Caroline (an Australian teacher headed to Aceh) and myself.  I’ve been to quite a few dinners and goodbye events; things that signaled my ‘lasts’ of Indonesia.  It feels good to be on my way, but it hurts a lot to leave my friends.  I’ll miss them lots.  Johanna, Becky, and Liz accompanied me to the airport and I was on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; One of my major pains was organizing my luggage.  I really wanted to take my bike, so I had it packed.  I also had my big backpack full of clothes, my saxophone, and a black duffle bag that held my computer and an assortment of other things.  Here’s a breakdown of my luggage and weights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backpack:   23 Kg&lt;br /&gt;Bicycle (boxed): 20 Kg… dimensions: 140cm long x 80cm high x 30cm wide&lt;br /&gt;Duffle:   15 Kg (I’m guessing…. It is HEAVY)&lt;br /&gt;Saxophone  5 Kg&lt;br /&gt;Total:   63 Kg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lugging this junk through the Jakarta and Sydney airports required refined skill.  I loaded the backpack, sax, and duffle onto a trolley and dragged the bicycle in it’s box behind me.  I probably looked a bit like a homeless person… but a homeless person would be wise enough not to carry so much crap around with him.  I hate traveling with so much stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my worries was getting from the airport to the train station with all of this stuff.  I could take a train from the airport to the station without spending too much, but I’d have to abandon my trolley and somehow carry all of this stuff on a train which may or may not be crowded.  I opted for a shuttle bus (a Toyota Hiace van)… I rented the whole thing for $50… a 30 minute car ride, but worth it.  (To compare, my train ticket (for a 5 ½ hour ride) was only $38).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once at the train station I did have to carry the luggage, which was caused a lot of stares… I was awkward and slow and really hoped someone would help me.  I pretended I was performing an experiment to see if any good Samaritans would help me.  None did, but I managed to get the heavy stuff checked in and myself to a coffee shop for a little breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the coffee shop I still had my duffle, sax, and a small backpack that I had to disconnect from my large one because of weight restrictions. I couldn’t manage all that stuff plus a coffee and fruit salad, so I asked a nice senior lady if she could watch my stuff while I picked up my food.  She was very kind and said she would.  The large coffee and fruit salad turned out to be $7.20!!  Mahal Sekali as we say in Indonesia.  I held my breath and handed over a plastic $20 bill.  HOW AM I GOING TO AFFORD THIS PLACE??  Anyhow, I got my food, and returned to the table, where the lady was literally staring at my luggage; she didn’t take her eyes off of it, bless her soul.  See the photo for the picture of my table…  note the Hungry Jack wrappers the teenagers before me left for ambience.  I read a Sydney Morning Herald, drank the strong coffee and ate the fruit salad with a plastic fork.  After this I played Jawbreaker on my phone and listened to Cat Stevens.  A Chinese man joined me and slurped his cappuccino and had a conversation on his handphone.  What an exciting day!  And it’s now only 12:07pm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be arriving at 5:10 in Taree… I left a message on Steve’s phone (who I’ll be staying with) so that he doesn’t forget to pick me up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will the bicycle fit inside Steve’s car?  Will breakfast make poor Mark broke?  Will he have to make a tear-filled call to his parents to help bail him out of Australia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned to find out…. Soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6447552471120849620-7253654622321289568?l=whereismark.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/feeds/7253654622321289568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6447552471120849620&amp;postID=7253654622321289568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7253654622321289568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6447552471120849620/posts/default/7253654622321289568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereismark.blogspot.com/2007/07/june-18-2007-1130-am-sydney-nsw.html' title='June 18, 2007, 11:30 AM Sydney NSW'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15128048617602024707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Ct-Una5NE/TZCcaVMHrRI/AAAAAAAAAa4/ql3Xn-aU5GM/s220/Photo%2B85.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_f4mVgv3p-kw/RqrCHtg-QuI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/rtsRnnNJpqw/s72-c/Airportgoodbye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
