I've been in Maleny, with my parents, enjoying Queensland winter sun, beautiful views, time with my parents. When you come 'home' for home assignment - missionary-speak for travelling back to your country of origin in order to catch up with family and friends and to share your missionary stories with all sorts of people and in all sorts of churches - you also have to catch up on the cultural references you missed out on while you were away. I'm now in Sunny Sydney to visit our National Office and my sister, staying with longtime friends.
I have watched much less TV this time around - some news and current affairs in order to understand today's Aussie issues, although there is a terrible sameness with the way things are done on French and British TV - the formats, the negative, fear-inducing reporting, the themes (political manoeuvring, immigration, stock exchanges), the false social criticism that goes on. One main difference is the senses of humour ! Oh, and I forgot : THE OLYMPICS! (Well done, Britain!)
Have read 2 delightful novels : The Copper Beech by Maeva Binchy (small Irish village life and relationships), and Tuscan Holiday by Holly Chamberlin ( mother and daughter relationships and female identity in the context of relationships with the men in their lives). This is the advantage of staying in other people's houses for long enough!
Wish : that I could spend a year travelling from family member to friend and friend scanning and choosing from their libraries.
Here's a poem I discovered in one of those treasure troves (chez VdHengels), illustrated by modern Australian artists (Ed. Lothian Books, 1997):
May the road be free for the journey,
May it lead where it promised it would,
May the stars that gave ancient bearings
Be seen, still be understood.
May every aricraft fly safely,
May every traveller be found,
May sailors in crossing the ocean
Not hear the cries of the drowned.
May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names.
May the mountains stand to remind us
Of what it means to be young,
May we be outlived by our daughters,
May we be outlived by our sons.
May the bombs rust away in the bunkers,
And the doomsday clock not be rewound,
May the solitary scientists, working,
Remember the holes in the ground.
May the knife remain in the holder,
May the bullet stay in the gun,
May those who live in the shadows
Be seen by those in the sun.
John Marsden - Prayer for the 21st century
John Marsden - Prayer for the 21st century
