Thursday, 3rd of August 2006.

This should be a photograph of St John's Anglican Church.

Today has been a more or less perfect day until the last thirty minutes of my bus ride home.
Mr Marman being a wonderful teacher, allowed us to wear none uniform to our religion excursion! This excursion was to observe religious and art and architecture. As we are studying a unit entitled religion and the arts.
First plus! I wore my cashmere jumper, black sleeveless overdress, and jeans, all of which I covered with my black coat and a fur scarf.
First things first-a double free in which I did barely anything but go to Mrs Bartley’s office for an interview, my UAI is terrible-at best 68, at worst 51. I will be lucky if Charles Sturt University accepts me at this rate. But never mind that. There are after all more important things in life than School. I spent the rest of my double free attempting to get inspiration for my textile designs. So far I have failed miserably-I lost my portfolio and only found it today.
Our exciting religion excursion left at eleven, so as soon as the bell for recess left I went to the Boarding House. Mr Marman drove us to our first stop: the Sri Vishnu Siva Mandir in Mawson. This Hindu temple, supposedly open from 11 am to 5 pm everyday, was very shut and very closed. So we walked around the exterior, observing various architectural features and how this expresses, Hindu theological beliefs. The building, essentially a hall, located on the top of a hill, had been painted pink with blue highlights with carved details plastered on. The top was adorned with a vast array of statues and other as yet unknown things. A large fountain with blue tiles on the inside had a statue of Shiva in the centre. He was also blue.

Elle stated that she thought the Gods and Goddess of the temple-despite their anthropomorphism- were much more human and, as she put it so delicately ‘more sexy’ than Christian art. I am not sure how it goes against the Temples I saw in India-though after seeing Ranakpur, the Jain temple between Udaipur and Jodhpur. All buildings look ugly. Though the temple was much more attractive than most Christian Churches these days.
Then we went to coffee at Bruno’s in Mawson. Whilst Mr Marman was driving bus I saw an Asian Grocery, I asked if I could buy something in there while we waited for our coffee to arrive. As I made my way from Bruno’s to the Asian Grocery, I had a little adventure discovering the Mawson shops. What a find? Several bookstores, one “Alexandre’s used bookshop” that sells Animorphs books (I bought book number 18 for only 4 dollars) a Lebanese grocery that according to Zaza sells Arab lollies and chewing gum, fabric shops, knitting shops, interior decorating shops, lots of stuff with variety, that you usually wouldn’t expect to find, and quite a nice selection of inexpensive restaurants.

Above all there was the Asian Grocery store I mentioned earlier. It was there that I bought my daikon (though they referred to it as a ‘white carrot’ for only 1 dollar. I actually went in there looking for Korean Malt syrup (Mool-Yut) so that I can make Bulgoogi on the weekend, but it turned out that the shop was Thai in orientation (the shop girl was Thai, the signs were in Thai, most things were Thai), however they did have a few Japanese and Chinese products. Like all Asian groceries, this one had a foul smell. I shall go back there to buy some rice wine etc, I just need to look at the bus timetables.
Then we went to St John’s I took pictures of the ecclesiastical embroidery, most of it was cross-stitch though some (like the prayer cushions) were various forms of tapestry. The organist played “amazing grace” especially for our visit. Zaza found the Star of David in the centrepiece of the stained glass window, rather intriguing, I said that it was found in all protestant churches, and was because Protestantism had a greater emphasis on the old testament. Kelly said that this wasn’t at all true of all protestant churches at all. She’s a nice enough girl, but there is something off about her. We observed the various symbols located within in the Church (dove representing holy spirit) prominence of the pulpit in contrast to the altar (ie emphasis of Protestantism in preaching the word) apparently most protestant churches refer to the altar as a communion table, though not so in the Anglican tradition. St Johns is one of the oldest buildings in Canberra. The church was absolutely freezing and dark. The stained glass windows were lovely though. When we were in the Churches ‘meditation garden’ Mr Marman pointed out a fountain, and then went onto explain the significance of Water in Islamic art and architecture (apparently most mosques have a water feature). On the way between St John’s and the café were we had lunch I learnt (or had it confirmed) that Zaza’s family owns Ali Baba. How disturbing-every time I have been there, I have been funding Zaza’s School fees; it’s a small world.

Then we had Lunch-most people wanted to go to Civic, but Mr Marman said that he would be unable to find parking. Manuka was suggested, but Micheala H argued that it would be too crowded at this time of day. So in the end we went to a pathetic little café near my old school (Telopea), the food was okay, but I could’ve gotten better in Yass, I noticed that the staff had icon’s on the back wall, I made the guess that the staff were Serbian (they didn’t look Greek) and probably attended the Church we were about to visit. Whilst we all sat outside, general chitchat ensued (Mr Marman tried to steer the conversation towards religion and philosophy. Although we did have the mandatory ‘which is the worse cuisine in the world?’ conversation. There are several contenders for this title, my parents both agree that it is Korean, others say Nepalese, Mr Marman suggested Bolivian, some one else suggested Balkan food. Zaza begged to differ and then did a humorous impression of herself being fed Balkan food, by the parents of her Croatian friends.

The conversation generally veered towards politics
I learnt that Zaza’s father had gotten back from Lebanon Wednesday the 26th of July , and her mother and sister on the 2nd of August. Which probably explained why she hadn’t been at School the previous day. Zaza explained her conspiracy theory about Syria: that Syria had put Hizbollah up to, for the explicit purpose of ruining Lebanon’s tourism industry, and getting more flights from their Airport (apparently since the conflict began Syria has been flying a huge number of planes. According to Zaza, Syria (which is apparently a lot like Lebanon, only boring, oppressive, and poor), is very jealous of the Lebanese success since the end of the Civil War. Particularly since the assassination of Rafik Hariri, and the subsequent protests and Syrian withdrawal. She did go onto decry the Israelis, though-something which I consider most unfair, what are the Israelis supposed to do? Lie down and take it in the mouth? As we were leaving Kelly mentioned that whilst she and her family had been staying in Jerusalem, on the philistine (she used the pc name-I use the biblical name) side of town, the Israelis had cut off the hot water, electricity and gas intermittently. Had Zaza not been listening I would’ve asked Kelly why her family stayed with the dogs, when they could’ve stayed with the people. This conversation further confirmed my suspicions about Kelly.

Then we proceeded onwards to St George’s Serbian Orthodox Church. I have been there once before-last semester some time in February I think (the School went to the swimming carnival, I went to church instead). I went there because we had been studying the lead up to World War 1 in modern history, and all that Balkan/Serb trouble that this implies. That and general curiousity about the Serbs, according the W.S, the Serbs are EVIL. I was curious so I went. I ended up staying for a three-hour mass, and a conversation with the Priest. Who was incredibly tall and good-looking. Despite the service being in Serb, and very long, it wasn’t boring, and I was able to admire the beautiful painting that completely cover the Churches Walls.
This time, some of the paintings were being restored; apparently all the incense used in services tends to make them dirty. You could still see most of them though: I love the detail of the paintings, not only do they show episodes from the life of Jesus (annunciation, transfiguration, Baptism, resurrection of Lazarus, Crucifixion) but also episodes of Serbian history: a battle against the Turk and the Martyrdom of several Serbian saints. If all Serbian Orthodox Churches have paintings such as these, then it explains how much animosity between the Serbs and Bosnians, even after all this time. Mr Marman didn’t mention this, but talked
I even bought a few postcards.
For a briefly we looked at the posters, and leaflets, on the Churches, message board. In protestant Churches, this message board often displays pictures of charitable expeditions, missionaries, church fundraisers and restorations. However it seems the Orthodox Church prefers to display pictures of armed militant groups brandishing Kalashnikovs and wearing masks. To me this is slightly ironic-Christians are supposed to be converting the infidels, not killing them.
Although the picture of Gavrilo Princip had been taken down since my last visit. (for those of you without any knowledge of history whatsoever, Gavrilo Princip is the idiot who shot Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, and thus sparked off World War 1.) as we were leaving Mr Marman mentioned “that Church has a somewhat political nature.” Zaza said that she felt nervous-apparently she has lots of Croatian friends.
My Class arrived back at School just in time, for me skim threw a recipe book to ensure that I had all the correct ingredients for kimchi. Amelia also gave me back my Tom Jones CDs. I was especially pleased to show the daikon to Amelia as she is half Korean (the other half being Japanese).
So when the bell rang, I proceeded confidently to the bus stat myself down, and skipped through my magazine. Just before the bus reached hall, I started got into a conversation with Micheala B. Micheala B, is a Year Six girl, with long blond hair, good looks, a well-developed figure and a sharp mind. She reads quite mature books for her age, and I find that I can usually have a good conversation with her. She asked what the chemical number for Cyanide was. Since all the scientific knowledge I posses could fill a teaspoon, I rang up Deborah, who had trouble finding it on her formula chart, though she was sure it was Cn, And that Arsenic was As. That information secured. I asked Micheala why she was so curious about cyanide. She said she was writing a murder mystery story. I was somewhat tickled pink by this being a writer myself, though not of crime fiction, I was only too happy to answer her questions about poisons. Regurgitating knowledge garnered from reading Agatha Christie novels, and from my ‘researching-serial-killers’ stage. I was able to supply a good deal of information: which poisons existed round the home, what the symptoms looked like, and how painfully they killed. For a murder mystery I recommended Arsenic-working slowly, its painful symptoms being mistaken for gastritis, and is the main ingredient in rat poison. I also mentioned hydrochloric poisoning and the serial killer Martha Rendall, whose symptoms can be confused with Diphtheria, it can also be procured in most cleaning agents. Cyanide I said, was not only hard to find, but works within minutes of consumption, and also left a very obvious symptom-the skin turns blue. This makes it very ineffective as a poison in a mystery murder-far too obviously murder. All through having this conversation Joanna, kept on interrupting us and asking why Micheala was asking about poisons, I told her it was for a murder mystery, but Joanna persisted, I thought she was being annoying.
Micheala had a theory that if sufficient apple seeds were eaten, cyanide poisoning could occur, but I thought that unlikely.
Eventually I asked Micheala what the plot of her murder mystery was. She told me that it was about an 11 year old boy who wants to kill himself. I told her that it if suicide was the issue then, it would be far more simple to jump off a building, hang himself, slit his wrists. She replied that he wanted to die painlessly and quietly.
“well” told her “if that’s how he want to go then it would be extremely easy to overdose on sleeping pills-you can get them from your doctor take them all at once death is pretty much assured.”
“And if it fails?” she asked me,
“well then you have to get your stomach pumped, you puke a lot and you can end up damaged permanently.”
“anything else.” She asked.
“well he can shoot himself.”
“how I am supposed to get a gun?” retorted Micheala
at this point I was quite shocked-she hadn’t really been interested in writing a crime novel, but in suicide. That explained Joanna’s persistent questioning-at nine years old, she had been able to pick, that something had been amiss in Micheala’s line of questioning where I had not. Snapps to Joanna. I spent the rest of the bus trip home enunciating the ways in which the various methods of death that I had outlined were not only hard to do, but extremely painful. I tried my best to reason with her and yet somehow I think I failed. I felt awful, I wish I had been able to read her mood more successfully. (as of writing she was still very much alive)
When I got home I began my Korean Food extravaganza.
See my next entry.
Post script: as of writing there is a cow on my School’s oval. That and that this website actually works at my School, which won’t even allow hotmailL