"Dear Darling,
Where have I been? I was up and down, here and there, jumping around, and skipping through the needly grass. Experience cannot really be written again, unless someone else writes it, you know?
I thought I got it all sorted out. Lets talk in metaphors, it's always easy to do when I wana talk about deep stuff.
I came back from the farm lands, back into Britanya, and I thought the kingdom was ready for me, and I was ready for the kingdom. I wanted to emerge with those who I love into light from this world of darkness. 'Its pretty dark down here guys, we should really check it out up there.' I announced. At first, everyone was excited about the future idea, everyone agreed and wanted to marry through to the top. Everyone knew there was light up there, and it was most porbably nice light. But then, I kept talking about the future idea, of how we can get together and make ourselves ready for it, talk about it, see what everyone thinks about the world up there.
But so much talking I have done..."
"Dear Darling,
I love you in space and time.
I am down with the sleepy drawns,
singing harmonics, dancing among vultures.
I am down with a sickness I said,
a sickness I have made.
You are not here to harm,
this heart has one person to belong.
I am where I belong, in the bossom of the soul.
I love you in space and time."
"Dear Darling,
I remember now, it was a storm of emotions and thought, I thought... I thought. thought. thought, until my mind gave up. I thought thinking thoughts, kept doing it for a bit more, and then stopped, Fate, Goddess of Playfulness & Mystery, Lady of the Air, Master of Puppets, showed me: 'Love is not something that people have. Love is not dependent on you or me. Love is a Place, Love is a place where our souls can rest. When I am in Love, I am the Place of Rest. When I am in Love, I am with you and everyone else. When I am in Love, I become Love.'
So, with that in mind, I stopped searching for Love. She wasn't some person that I needed to find, neither a person I needed to help. And now I am playing in the soft & green grass fields."
July 12, 2011
February 21, 2011
Welcome to Petrovski
(The blue/yellow bins we fill with pears and the house I eat, pee, and drink tea in)Hi,
Today I hope to introduce you to my picking family at the current farm.
You already met good old frenchie Justin and Stan the man.
Here are our new family:
Victor The Victorious
Another german-russian man, very energic, once, we were aiming to do 6 bins (of pears) each for the day (our top score, achieved only once), on the last bins, he started talking to pears and told us "the pears are saying PICK ME, NO PICK ME, ME ME ME!" of course he is not insane, but definitly crazy. We have lots of fun making stupid jokes and faces.
Jimmy The Big Boss
An old man, the father of Arthuer (see below), goes around the farm while we are picking with his motor bike and tells us what to do, he is really funny, when he gets frustrated and angry he throws fucks and bastards together and then keeps on talking, confusing, for example he would be talking about trees that had two varieties of pears and would suddenly say "fucking bastard fuck" and then say "those jewish people make these trees". He likes talking with us, and mentioning "jiggy-jiggy" from time to time.
Arthuer The Boss
The owner of the farm, always working, from 7-8 in the morning till 8-9 at night, drinks coffee and smokes ciggirates all day. Really good boss, he takes everyone into consideration. Sometimes when I smile at him while he is working he would shout "WHAT!" and i would shrink and make up something to say or just say "nothing... how are you?" He is pretty cool, I might come back and work for him. He also gives us beer sometimes after work!
Trevor The Helper
Trever is a funny-fun old lad, in his 50s, yet still full of energy, a high funny voice, and a tendancey to talk to himself. He always makes a joke about him not doing anything and still getting paid, and gives a little devil's chuckle, its hiliarous, awesome dude. He wants to travel around with a fancy caravan when he finishes. I always tell him "Don't work too hard!" and he would reply "ha ha! yeaaaa right!" (he works as much as Arthur).
Jimmy The Clean
As I mentioned before, most men and woman here are Macedonians, and Jimmy is one that lives in Melbourne. We always sit with him at work, and talk about bins and picking. He likes Victor, and he would shout over the fields of pear trees "VICTOR! Too slow!" and will everyday, twice, say to Victor "If Hitler win, all speak German!" I think Victor is really tired of that. He is called The Clean because he picks 7 bins a day of pure pears, no leaves, no branches, nothing but pears.
Viki The Cats' Lady
She loves cats, and we have plenty of them under the house, "I come here every year, for 20 years (or something long like that), they are my babies!" she told me once about the cats. Every morning she would wake up and call "Puss puss poss" to feed the cats. She is the mother of the family, always taking care of everyone and providing help for who needs it.
Nicola The Confusing
The only words I understand from him are Yes, Hello, Good morning, Is Ok, and No. The rest of his words are either Macedonian and Russian, but he keeps talking, thinking that we (mostly me) would understand him, I can't, one word I would always mention to him is "What?!" He is a good man though, and has a joyful laugh.
Meitrai The Giant
A giant man with giant feet, picks 10 bins a day, and ONLY eats instant noodles, tomoato sauce, and curry powder everyday, every meal! We were all trying to figure out how he does it, but its really illogical.
Nygeal The Dreamer
I sleep in my tent, and he sleeps in his car, and I always hear him dreaming, mostly nightmares, they dont sound very good. I love his laugh and his laugh-face, espacially when he gets drunk on french brandy, he talks a lot and tells us some funny stories. He is fun to talk to.
Omar The Storyteller
As his name suggests, he loves talking stories, history, and politics. He doesn't live with us in the farm, but he comes over after work sometimes. "I never say please" one time he said, and he talks until we have to sneak out to go to bed. But I love his talks, I always find it interesting to listen to his view of politics and the history of countries.
And that is all, it's not a bad family, but I like it. I love how everyone is different and always love listening to all of them.
I am finishing work soon, my skin is full of scratches, my back feels like an old man, my bones are aching with pain, and my mind is aching for a thai massage. At the end of the Williams (the pears we are picking) picking season, the Big Boss organizes a barbaque for all the pickers with good food and beer, I am looking forward for that!
Melbourne, here I come! again...
February 10, 2011
Pears, pears, bin, pears, pears.
That's all I am thinking about now, "today I have to pick 4 bins, I gotta pick the pears this way so I can get maximum speed!" "4 bins a day, 10 days to go, $31 per bin, $27 after tax, multiply 4 and 10, and then $27... that would be enough money then... what if I got 5 bins? what if I had 12 days instead?" my mind races and calculates.
But before I got on with the pears, I must try to rewind and start at where I stopped last time.
Butch and Ross came, drunk, and said "We've got you a job boys! picking pears! stripping! you don't have to think about which ones you pick, you just take everything and throw it in your bag! it's good money!" our eyes twinkled, we were a bit tired from the farm we were at, we had to wait a while until we picked plums, pears sounded better, and easier, and a new place would be a nice change.
A day ago, Butch came and sat with us, and he said "Respect each other, help each other out, stick together, and look at the world right in the fucking eyes."
So we decided we would go, the next day.
The day before "the next day" Butch and Ross came again and said "come to Ross' place! we going to have a BBQ!" I knew what that involved, lots of smoking, drinking, and senseless talking, and a bit of food. So we did, slept in Ross' house, woke up in the morning (5am, because we had to work at 6.30pm) went back to our place, got ready, and went to do some weeding in that vegetables farm we worked in before. It was really hot, and very tiring.
We went back home and packed our stuff, waited for Butch and Ross for 6 hours, and they didn't come (we found out later that they were getting drunk again that day)
So we called a friend of ours with a car (this is me, Justin, and Stan by the way) and she drove us to the new farm.
Filled with Macedonians, the farm was huge with many pears and small amount of apples. We camped outside a half-house (which contained 2 rooms and a kitchen in between them) The old men (most of the pickers here were old Macedonian men and woman) told us immediately not to touch their stuff, clean the "eating table" after eating, don't cook before 9pm, and go to sleep at 10. We didn't feel very welcomed, and it was a bit strange. Stan stayed at another house, which was a bit bigger.
So started the first day of picking pears, it was not bad, you pick the pears by pulling it up upwards (not downwards), from 6am to 5pm (but we get to choose when to start/finish) and we have to fill a bin with 500kg of pears. First day was not bad for a start, 8 bins for three people, but that would be boring to write about.
Sadly, there isn't much more to say. All I can add is I sleep on a veranda with my tent on hard wood, the ground has been wet (and wet again today) and muddy, it's either really hot or raining here (some days it's nice, but doesn't last long, it comes in between the hot day and the rainy day), I have been dance-picking (picking pears while dancing), I go crazy after 3pm (when picking) and start making animal noises, climbing the trees, pick with passionate rage, and run around like a ninja.
In the end, I will come back to Brisbane soon, after a week of Melbourne, possibly in the start of March.
End transmission.
But before I got on with the pears, I must try to rewind and start at where I stopped last time.
Butch and Ross came, drunk, and said "We've got you a job boys! picking pears! stripping! you don't have to think about which ones you pick, you just take everything and throw it in your bag! it's good money!" our eyes twinkled, we were a bit tired from the farm we were at, we had to wait a while until we picked plums, pears sounded better, and easier, and a new place would be a nice change.
A day ago, Butch came and sat with us, and he said "Respect each other, help each other out, stick together, and look at the world right in the fucking eyes."
So we decided we would go, the next day.
The day before "the next day" Butch and Ross came again and said "come to Ross' place! we going to have a BBQ!" I knew what that involved, lots of smoking, drinking, and senseless talking, and a bit of food. So we did, slept in Ross' house, woke up in the morning (5am, because we had to work at 6.30pm) went back to our place, got ready, and went to do some weeding in that vegetables farm we worked in before. It was really hot, and very tiring.
We went back home and packed our stuff, waited for Butch and Ross for 6 hours, and they didn't come (we found out later that they were getting drunk again that day)
So we called a friend of ours with a car (this is me, Justin, and Stan by the way) and she drove us to the new farm.
Filled with Macedonians, the farm was huge with many pears and small amount of apples. We camped outside a half-house (which contained 2 rooms and a kitchen in between them) The old men (most of the pickers here were old Macedonian men and woman) told us immediately not to touch their stuff, clean the "eating table" after eating, don't cook before 9pm, and go to sleep at 10. We didn't feel very welcomed, and it was a bit strange. Stan stayed at another house, which was a bit bigger.
So started the first day of picking pears, it was not bad, you pick the pears by pulling it up upwards (not downwards), from 6am to 5pm (but we get to choose when to start/finish) and we have to fill a bin with 500kg of pears. First day was not bad for a start, 8 bins for three people, but that would be boring to write about.
Sadly, there isn't much more to say. All I can add is I sleep on a veranda with my tent on hard wood, the ground has been wet (and wet again today) and muddy, it's either really hot or raining here (some days it's nice, but doesn't last long, it comes in between the hot day and the rainy day), I have been dance-picking (picking pears while dancing), I go crazy after 3pm (when picking) and start making animal noises, climbing the trees, pick with passionate rage, and run around like a ninja.
In the end, I will come back to Brisbane soon, after a week of Melbourne, possibly in the start of March.
End transmission.
January 24, 2011
In The Country where they say G’day to you
Crazy, this place is crazy. It’s good, but also crazy. I am writing with a german keyboard, and the Z and Y are in different places, I even ment to write Y first then Z, it’s a strange keyboard. Anyway, i am changing, the people around me are again, affecting me, heavily. Country people, the french man Justin quoted, “Alwayz fuck fuck fuck, fuck.“ To Butch, the 54 year-old, old–timer picker, abronginal man living in the same farm as us. Good fella, great fella, very honest, but rough with his words. A great man, but it saddens me when I know that if I was a homosexual, I would have a very different treatment from him. Pofter, that’s the word they use for “the gay people“ Butch said.
They say a lot here, “That pofter“ “You pofter“ they keep saying. A lot of hate in them, sad.
But I can see the good side of’em. And I am (as in my physical presence on Earth, Ahmed) slowly changing to who they are, rough, always swearing, full of hatred (or un-understanding) towards their illusion of enemies. I found myself trying to race my friend in fruit-picking, and feeling jealousy and annoyance of some of Justin’s actions. I am observing it, obviously this journey is here to heal my male-ego, and return the balance within myself.
Back to physical realiy, the more interesting and fun side, I am still smoking lots of ganja, everyday, can’t help it, it always come back to me. I am beginging to think I am a bit too open. It’s all good though, still wake up 6am in the morning healthy, awake, and ready for another hard day. Lately, I have picked Peaches, Apricots, Plums, and TOMATOES! They are captilzied beacuse they were a pain in the back, you gotta “put your ass above your head“ they say. Simply means you bend your back a lot to pick them tomatoes. Good experience though, picked up a couple of pumpkins (2 days after, we had pumpkin curry, with onion, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, mixed beans and smooth and lovely coconut cream. Plus rice), 3 cucumbers, a bunch of tomatoes of course, a solo eggplant, and a big fucking zuccinni, so big it’s name changes to “Maro“ (or something like that, but crazy, no?).
(And after an hour I smashed it with a golf club, it was inedible anyway)
We also ate grass parrots, hunted and killed by our very own italian boss. I went through the stage of de-feathering them, cutting their stomach area to get all the guts, heart, and lungs out, with a finger, burning them lightly to re-clean the feathers from the skin, chop their head, legs, and wings off, stick it in a pot with some potatoes and onions, maybe carrots, and you get a really good grass parrots stew. I hope I don’t get stuck in this mind-state.
We worked a bit more, still picking, got a good amount of money, and smoked a bit more dope.
Life is good, no matter who surrounds you, even when you miss your friends back there where you can’t look at their eyes and smile in appreciation of their presence. I am finding myself feeling love from other people, because I accept who they are, or my face does. But my mind is haunted by thoughts of judgements towards them.
Although, we did have a nice day at the pool yesterday (Saturday, I am writing this on Sunday, but I would probably publish online on Tuesday. Sorry for the confusion), swam myself breathless, ate more sausages (we have been eating sausages for the past 5 days) played the card game Speed, the AWOeSommE game my older sister taught me and kicked my ass in, with other peeps, lost, and decided to jump in the pool again, this time swimming backwards in a slow relaxing motion. Very nice, I thought.
Although, 3 days ago, me and Justin were picking peaches, and came up with a “Shout“ for fruit picking, it went:
Up and down the ladder we go,
Picking fruit and that’s what we do.
We laughed on certain subjects, like Stan…
-- 10 days ago, Stan came in the picture, a German young man with a light black beard and bright blue eyes. He was a villigant man, looking for truth and asking many questions. Having never learnt how to cook proper dinner, Ahmed and Justin worked towards teaching the German young man on The Art of Cooking. Problem is, sometimes he asked a bit too many questions, leaving his fellow friends with a slight frown, adding to the already excisting frown manifested by the sun’s heat and rays. But Stan was willing to learn, and that was good. --
… being funny sometimes like a cartoon charactor, or predicting how long is going to take to fill this freaking bin with fist-full sized peaches, or about our friends back home, or our weird, yet epic, experiences we had in our life, or about how funny is the word given to italians here “WOGS“, otherwise proudly indentified by our italian boss as “people who like cash“, which explained after our question to him (9 days ago) “Why are you paying us cash?“.
2 weeks ago we also met Kevin, a 14 years veteran of fruit picking, half were which done in New Zealand, his home country. Good guy, he offered to show me around the north of the South Island when I visit in 1 year and a half.
Back to the end of this present, we are listening to good music and fighting the flies with “Fly Papers“ (sticky papers that hang from the cealing and holds down any fly that touches it, there is plenty of them.), and smoking ciggis. Time for me to disappear from the computer reality to the other one.
They say a lot here, “That pofter“ “You pofter“ they keep saying. A lot of hate in them, sad.
But I can see the good side of’em. And I am (as in my physical presence on Earth, Ahmed) slowly changing to who they are, rough, always swearing, full of hatred (or un-understanding) towards their illusion of enemies. I found myself trying to race my friend in fruit-picking, and feeling jealousy and annoyance of some of Justin’s actions. I am observing it, obviously this journey is here to heal my male-ego, and return the balance within myself.
Back to physical realiy, the more interesting and fun side, I am still smoking lots of ganja, everyday, can’t help it, it always come back to me. I am beginging to think I am a bit too open. It’s all good though, still wake up 6am in the morning healthy, awake, and ready for another hard day. Lately, I have picked Peaches, Apricots, Plums, and TOMATOES! They are captilzied beacuse they were a pain in the back, you gotta “put your ass above your head“ they say. Simply means you bend your back a lot to pick them tomatoes. Good experience though, picked up a couple of pumpkins (2 days after, we had pumpkin curry, with onion, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, mixed beans and smooth and lovely coconut cream. Plus rice), 3 cucumbers, a bunch of tomatoes of course, a solo eggplant, and a big fucking zuccinni, so big it’s name changes to “Maro“ (or something like that, but crazy, no?).
(And after an hour I smashed it with a golf club, it was inedible anyway)
We also ate grass parrots, hunted and killed by our very own italian boss. I went through the stage of de-feathering them, cutting their stomach area to get all the guts, heart, and lungs out, with a finger, burning them lightly to re-clean the feathers from the skin, chop their head, legs, and wings off, stick it in a pot with some potatoes and onions, maybe carrots, and you get a really good grass parrots stew. I hope I don’t get stuck in this mind-state.
We worked a bit more, still picking, got a good amount of money, and smoked a bit more dope.
Life is good, no matter who surrounds you, even when you miss your friends back there where you can’t look at their eyes and smile in appreciation of their presence. I am finding myself feeling love from other people, because I accept who they are, or my face does. But my mind is haunted by thoughts of judgements towards them.
Although, we did have a nice day at the pool yesterday (Saturday, I am writing this on Sunday, but I would probably publish online on Tuesday. Sorry for the confusion), swam myself breathless, ate more sausages (we have been eating sausages for the past 5 days) played the card game Speed, the AWOeSommE game my older sister taught me and kicked my ass in, with other peeps, lost, and decided to jump in the pool again, this time swimming backwards in a slow relaxing motion. Very nice, I thought.
Although, 3 days ago, me and Justin were picking peaches, and came up with a “Shout“ for fruit picking, it went:
Up and down the ladder we go,
Picking fruit and that’s what we do.
We laughed on certain subjects, like Stan…
-- 10 days ago, Stan came in the picture, a German young man with a light black beard and bright blue eyes. He was a villigant man, looking for truth and asking many questions. Having never learnt how to cook proper dinner, Ahmed and Justin worked towards teaching the German young man on The Art of Cooking. Problem is, sometimes he asked a bit too many questions, leaving his fellow friends with a slight frown, adding to the already excisting frown manifested by the sun’s heat and rays. But Stan was willing to learn, and that was good. --
… being funny sometimes like a cartoon charactor, or predicting how long is going to take to fill this freaking bin with fist-full sized peaches, or about our friends back home, or our weird, yet epic, experiences we had in our life, or about how funny is the word given to italians here “WOGS“, otherwise proudly indentified by our italian boss as “people who like cash“, which explained after our question to him (9 days ago) “Why are you paying us cash?“.
2 weeks ago we also met Kevin, a 14 years veteran of fruit picking, half were which done in New Zealand, his home country. Good guy, he offered to show me around the north of the South Island when I visit in 1 year and a half.
Back to the end of this present, we are listening to good music and fighting the flies with “Fly Papers“ (sticky papers that hang from the cealing and holds down any fly that touches it, there is plenty of them.), and smoking ciggis. Time for me to disappear from the computer reality to the other one.
January 13, 2011
Journey to the country and beer!
I haven't been in contact with much people because I have been living out in the country, where the dust is harsh and the sun is blistering, where your hands are always dirty and you wear the same clothes for 3 days minimal, where the cows moo and the wind blows freely.
I have been in Melbourne for a while, but I am not going to talk about that much, I will only say I was discovering some cool things like Lentil As Anything, a restaurant where you pay as much as you feel like to a box, and I volunteered there, and if you do for at least one day a week, you can eat for free the whole week. I have much more to say about that place, but I will leave it for now, for the country holds interesting events.
So I started my first job at a farm in Kyabram, north of Victoria, picking apricots. It wasn't too bad, but we had a shit boss that wouldn't tell us that we didn't have 4 days of work until a day before. May the spirit be with him, but I decided to go back to Melbourne. I was low on money by then, $150 I think, partied new years there with heaps of African people, and Jeremy and Allay, cool people, you might know Jeremy, some of you. Then I got another job on Monday (two days after new years), in Shepparton, the main north town (close to Kyabram, or Kyabram is close to it). This girl finds jobs for backpackers, we pay her $40 for a job (if it's at least 2 weeks). It was easy, I thought...
I arrived at night, I got picked up and dropped off at a Caravan Park (I thought I was staying in the farm), didn't complain, got a tent, but it was too dark to put it up, so I slept with my sleeping bag under the stars, very romantic if I didn't have the wind blowing really hard and the mosquitoes biting harder, plus I had a big headache, only slept for 4 hours I think, maybe less.
Woke up in the morning, my mom called me, talked to her for a while (she found it funny that I was working in farms now) Then my ride to the farm came while I was on the phone, so I had to run to get my stuff ready (I thought it was coming in an hour), and I had a big load of vegies from Melbourne in my tent (no refrigeration), so I just took what I could eat raw, celery, banana, and ... ciggis where my lunch.
Yes I am smoking more now.
That's when I met Justin, my companion, he was confused about the ride too, and he came in last. He sat near me and said "Hello Boy!" in a country French accent (later I discovered) I worked with him that day, and everyday since. He is a funny big guy, doesn't talk much English, so I had to talk to him in simple broken English, I started talking to everyone like that after a while. He owns a farm in France that plants one of the most famous flowers sold in Paris, he slaughter cows and sells their meat, he (used) to smoke lots of ganja, and had 18 plants outside his farm on the public road (so if the cops come and see them, he can claim it's not his, because it's on public property), and he has a spa!
Anyway, we both moved to the farm (to live in) the second day we arrived, he was as poor as me, and we ate food together. The place where we were living had an outside kitchen, with no water (in the kitchen) no hot water in the toilet, and not much to cook with, but enough, and we were happily satisfied because it was cheap.
We picked for 4 days on this farm, the apricots farm. Here how picking fruit works, you pick lots of them and fill up a "half-bin", which takes us (two people) around 1.5 hours to fill, depending on our motivation and energy, and you get paid depending on the fruit, in the case of apricots, its $30 (before tax). Not much pay, but then again, you don't spend much time, and it makes you work harder. Me and Justin were doing 7 bins a day, motivating ourselves by having a ciggi after each bin finished.
During our stay in the farm, there was Thaw (not sure if that was his name, sometimes we called him Boy, or Justin did, and I followed) he was a NZ old man that had a bottle of VB beer every time we saw him (even sometimes when he was picking). He was an old timer picker, many years of picking. At some point he offered us to borrow his van, me and Justin take it for a ride around the country to find jobs, just me and Justin. We were very excited, Justin thought Thaw was coming with us half the time, and he was as excited as me, imagine how excited he was when it was just me and him.
We got really excited... we talked about the places we will go, Mildura, Adelaide, about what we are going to do, discover winerys, pick oranges! it was beautiful.
Not until the day we were leaving. Becky (the girl that got us jobs) came and said we can work for a day in another farm after we finish (now it's Thursday), and she also offered me a permanent job at the farm for 3 months, it sounded nice, but travelling with the van sounded nicer. So we decided we will go with the van to the other farm, work one day, and then head off.
Thaw that day decided he want to join us, after having 4 big bottles of beers, he wanted to make sure we are ok. An irish guy, Mathew, was working with us, and he asked him to come so he can drive him back (since he was too drunk + has no licenses, that's why he was ok with lending us his van, Thaw that is). We packed up everything, I forgot my towel, and Thaw drove, claiming he was going to show Justin how to drive it. He drove half of the way, and half of the time we were silent, the other half we were constantly asking him to stop and let Justin drive... No use. At last, he stopped, Justin drove, we couldn't find the farm, so we went back to Shepparton, we (me and Justin) asked to be dropped at a "MarketPlace" (where Woolies is at) then we called Becky and begged her to drop us at the farm.
By then we forgot about the van idea, and plotted to both get the permanent position in the farm, everything was changing so fast around me, my head was spinning, I was feeling bad for dragging Justin with me, but he said "is ok, no worries". It was comforting, I found it really easy to trust him.
So we got to the farm, there was a place to live, we were going to stay in our tents, it was around 9pm now, where the sun was setting down, two old pickers, Ben and Boch, were drinking beer and smoking joints, appeared, and me and Justin gave a big smile to each other, "this place is going to be good" i said, and he nodded his head happily with a grin. So normally, we joined them and drank beer and smoked joints, it was a great first night, and we heard many stories from them. It was hard for Justin to understand, but he was happy to sit and watch, and he would tell everyone "i no speak english, you are my teacher!".
This continued until last night (today is Friday), the drinking of beer/wine and smoking joints every night, and we have been working during the day doing weeding and maintaining the trees, sometimes stopping because of the heavy rain.
Anyway, i have to leave now, library closing, but i hope everyone is well down in Brisbane, and everyone is well in their journeys. I miss Brisbane a lot, and I hope to come down as soon as my journey is finished.
The sky is blue now, we will work hard the coming days.
I have been in Melbourne for a while, but I am not going to talk about that much, I will only say I was discovering some cool things like Lentil As Anything, a restaurant where you pay as much as you feel like to a box, and I volunteered there, and if you do for at least one day a week, you can eat for free the whole week. I have much more to say about that place, but I will leave it for now, for the country holds interesting events.
So I started my first job at a farm in Kyabram, north of Victoria, picking apricots. It wasn't too bad, but we had a shit boss that wouldn't tell us that we didn't have 4 days of work until a day before. May the spirit be with him, but I decided to go back to Melbourne. I was low on money by then, $150 I think, partied new years there with heaps of African people, and Jeremy and Allay, cool people, you might know Jeremy, some of you. Then I got another job on Monday (two days after new years), in Shepparton, the main north town (close to Kyabram, or Kyabram is close to it). This girl finds jobs for backpackers, we pay her $40 for a job (if it's at least 2 weeks). It was easy, I thought...
I arrived at night, I got picked up and dropped off at a Caravan Park (I thought I was staying in the farm), didn't complain, got a tent, but it was too dark to put it up, so I slept with my sleeping bag under the stars, very romantic if I didn't have the wind blowing really hard and the mosquitoes biting harder, plus I had a big headache, only slept for 4 hours I think, maybe less.
Woke up in the morning, my mom called me, talked to her for a while (she found it funny that I was working in farms now) Then my ride to the farm came while I was on the phone, so I had to run to get my stuff ready (I thought it was coming in an hour), and I had a big load of vegies from Melbourne in my tent (no refrigeration), so I just took what I could eat raw, celery, banana, and ... ciggis where my lunch.
Yes I am smoking more now.
That's when I met Justin, my companion, he was confused about the ride too, and he came in last. He sat near me and said "Hello Boy!" in a country French accent (later I discovered) I worked with him that day, and everyday since. He is a funny big guy, doesn't talk much English, so I had to talk to him in simple broken English, I started talking to everyone like that after a while. He owns a farm in France that plants one of the most famous flowers sold in Paris, he slaughter cows and sells their meat, he (used) to smoke lots of ganja, and had 18 plants outside his farm on the public road (so if the cops come and see them, he can claim it's not his, because it's on public property), and he has a spa!
Anyway, we both moved to the farm (to live in) the second day we arrived, he was as poor as me, and we ate food together. The place where we were living had an outside kitchen, with no water (in the kitchen) no hot water in the toilet, and not much to cook with, but enough, and we were happily satisfied because it was cheap.
We picked for 4 days on this farm, the apricots farm. Here how picking fruit works, you pick lots of them and fill up a "half-bin", which takes us (two people) around 1.5 hours to fill, depending on our motivation and energy, and you get paid depending on the fruit, in the case of apricots, its $30 (before tax). Not much pay, but then again, you don't spend much time, and it makes you work harder. Me and Justin were doing 7 bins a day, motivating ourselves by having a ciggi after each bin finished.
During our stay in the farm, there was Thaw (not sure if that was his name, sometimes we called him Boy, or Justin did, and I followed) he was a NZ old man that had a bottle of VB beer every time we saw him (even sometimes when he was picking). He was an old timer picker, many years of picking. At some point he offered us to borrow his van, me and Justin take it for a ride around the country to find jobs, just me and Justin. We were very excited, Justin thought Thaw was coming with us half the time, and he was as excited as me, imagine how excited he was when it was just me and him.
We got really excited... we talked about the places we will go, Mildura, Adelaide, about what we are going to do, discover winerys, pick oranges! it was beautiful.
Not until the day we were leaving. Becky (the girl that got us jobs) came and said we can work for a day in another farm after we finish (now it's Thursday), and she also offered me a permanent job at the farm for 3 months, it sounded nice, but travelling with the van sounded nicer. So we decided we will go with the van to the other farm, work one day, and then head off.
Thaw that day decided he want to join us, after having 4 big bottles of beers, he wanted to make sure we are ok. An irish guy, Mathew, was working with us, and he asked him to come so he can drive him back (since he was too drunk + has no licenses, that's why he was ok with lending us his van, Thaw that is). We packed up everything, I forgot my towel, and Thaw drove, claiming he was going to show Justin how to drive it. He drove half of the way, and half of the time we were silent, the other half we were constantly asking him to stop and let Justin drive... No use. At last, he stopped, Justin drove, we couldn't find the farm, so we went back to Shepparton, we (me and Justin) asked to be dropped at a "MarketPlace" (where Woolies is at) then we called Becky and begged her to drop us at the farm.
By then we forgot about the van idea, and plotted to both get the permanent position in the farm, everything was changing so fast around me, my head was spinning, I was feeling bad for dragging Justin with me, but he said "is ok, no worries". It was comforting, I found it really easy to trust him.
So we got to the farm, there was a place to live, we were going to stay in our tents, it was around 9pm now, where the sun was setting down, two old pickers, Ben and Boch, were drinking beer and smoking joints, appeared, and me and Justin gave a big smile to each other, "this place is going to be good" i said, and he nodded his head happily with a grin. So normally, we joined them and drank beer and smoked joints, it was a great first night, and we heard many stories from them. It was hard for Justin to understand, but he was happy to sit and watch, and he would tell everyone "i no speak english, you are my teacher!".
This continued until last night (today is Friday), the drinking of beer/wine and smoking joints every night, and we have been working during the day doing weeding and maintaining the trees, sometimes stopping because of the heavy rain.
Anyway, i have to leave now, library closing, but i hope everyone is well down in Brisbane, and everyone is well in their journeys. I miss Brisbane a lot, and I hope to come down as soon as my journey is finished.
The sky is blue now, we will work hard the coming days.
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