the hobbyist

more often than not travellers who return home tell tales of adventure into foreign lands, exotic cultures and strange accents twisting and turning between unfamiliar faces.

of late, this process of discovery and revelation that my senses had the fortune of experiencing have been applied to the plethora of interests i take, from the urge to play the drums to learning a new language.

whichever subject of interest i take, beneath the forums and web pages of "japanese for beginners" and "want to drum like a pro? start here!" there are sprawling metropolis like communities, who share the same love and speak in a familiar yet unfamiliar language, like tourist guides, they generously offer truckloads of information, where to go! what to see! how much to pay!

this is where i draw parallels where diving into a new hobby is like visiting a new country, and inherent in that, a rush of excitement overwhelms me – action is needed! there is a compulsory requirement to purchase equipment and other associated tools to ready me for the journey ahead; a drum kit, soccer boots, japanese lessons, whatever it takes!

apparatuses for total immersion!





i guess where i fail is, commitment - i.e. nice place to visit, wouldn’t want to live here though.

viets and that

i spent the weekend doing, husbandy activities (not to be confused with husbandry activities) with her.

you know:
- shopping for a super non-stick hard anodized fry pan
- holding hands
- play cook assistant

wait, i remember.. so part of these husbandy tasks, i attended a 13th birthday – my wife’s cousin.

over the past few years i’ve had the honour of observing how the vietnamese have such a male dominant hierarchical culture..

so at the party..

the men gathered around the main table, drank beer and nibbled on peanuts, while the women prepared the food and settled onto the smaller, less grandeur table.

to kids get a table too, even less grandeur, no table cloth, crappy dishes (like sliced cucumber) and no centre piece dish - usually a big soup pot bubbling away on a portable cooker (in vietnamese it's called "gun", a very violent name if you ask me).

being the son in law married to their eldest daughter, i get promoted to the mens table (i was on the kids table for years) for the heavy hitting pow wow with the other men of the pride, the sexist jokes and how i lost wads of cash on the pokies whilst guzzling down can after can of VB and randomly slinging vietnamese profanities around the room.

unfortunately, my vietnamese stereotypes didn't come to fruition - instead, the only member of the group that spoke a little english (coincidentally sat next to me) asked how my new job was going and how terrible it'd be if i had to drive into work everyday. he explained that traffic and the parking fees alone would deter most city workers to drive, although i did point out the concept of early bird parking - and no sir, it's not a meal deal of deep fried poultry and cheap parking.......ok!



and then, there was cake!