March 2015

I broke my toe over Chinese New Year. It was the weirdest thing. Steve and I were sitting on the couch and we noticed a flying insect. You don’t get too many flying things in Singapore so it gets your attention. Then we realised it was a bee, but when we looked up, it wasn’t just one bee, we had a swarm flying into our home. Shite!   Up we jumped, I grabbed the insect killer and ran around closing doors and windows. That’s when it happened. Moving briskly out of our bathroom, I slammed my toe right into a clothes rack with metal legs, and it hurt, like really really. But I had doors and windows to close, so I kept going, and as I moved around the house, I started saying ow, ow, ow, OW!! Oh my god it hurt. Toe stubs usually hit hard and fast but then it goes. However this was different – it was a grower, and my word it blossomed into a world of pain.   That was it – a fucked toe – SO annoying! It got fatter and fatter and fatter, and it wasn’t ‘til a month later I thought hey, maybe an x-ray would be a good idea? That’s when I got that little photo taken to discover I did, in fact, break it. On the mend now, but crikey, who knew how much a toe could hurt? The reason I didn’t do anything about my toe is what’s the point? Every time I’ve had anything foot related checked out by the doctor, they just tend to look at you with a little shrug and say keep it up and ice it, that’s all you can do – right?   However my main discovery of the experience has been how bloody vulnerable toes are around children. We are fully accustomed to the culture of removing shoes when entering our home in Asia. We actually quite like it and believe it will follow us wherever we go, unless that place is cold and then we’ll wear Ugg boots. In the meantime, bare feet and clumsy children – oh my GOD!   Jax landed a beauty on my toe recently and the most common utterance in the house this last month has been “watch my toe, WATCH MY TOE!” But they’re seven and eight right, and there’s something spectacularly unaware in kids this age. They stumble around, standing on your feet, hitting their dad in the nuts, smacking me in the boobs, knocking things over, breaking things, and just creating unintentional chaos. That’s a kid’s job. But who knew how often your toes were a battleground for children?   Well I do now and I’m certainly looking forward to this baby healing – mainly so I stop panicking every time my boys come anywhere near me. I’m also hoping it’s not going to be one of those aches that curses me into my dotage. That’s definitely one of the things you think about as you start getting crusty around the edges. One thing for sure though, the next time the bees come, I won’t be so focused on their eradication. I’m not allergic, so who cares? A bee sting or two would have been a lot nicer to deal with.   Ho hum, there you have it. Anyone else in Singapore have a swarm of bees descend on their apartment? Not normal right?   Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I was talking about my Army days with the boys the other day. It’s not the first time I’ve talked about it, but it obviously still hasn’t registered in their memory banks that their mum was once a soldier. A musician soldier, but I still had to do basic training and in the Australian Army, all soldiers are really soldiers. It’s a serious business. Anyhoo, Jax looks at me and musters all the authority a seven year old has, saying: “Mum you weren’t in the Army. Girls can’t be in the Army. Girls can only be princesses!” What? Why would you say that? Of course girls can be in the Army. They can be prime ministers, presidents, police officers, CEOs, nurses, doctors, professors, whatever the hell they want to be! Jax was not convinced. So I pulled out my photo album and showed him some pictures of that glorious time in my life back in 1992. Here’s one of my favorites. Fierce huh?  Well it wasn’t a joke and if you were too delicate, you got your arse kicked, especially by the male sergeant and corporals. They were definitely of the opinion that the military was no place for a lady. Screw them. I’d prove them wrong. Then again, I was never a lady. But Jax has some funny ideas about girls. He tells me girls can’t be funny, they can only be pretty when I tell him having a funny girlfriend is the most important thing. No Mum, only boys can be funny. Imagine how this all resonates with me for a second? My son, MY son, declaring that girls are not capable of being funny, or a leader, or a warrior, or whatever the hell they want to be. Naturally I’ll spend the next 20 or so years making sure these ideas are slapped out of him, but where does it come from? At the end of prep, we had a little end of year show and there was a video featuring all the kids talking about what they wanted to be when they grew up. For some reason Jax wanted to be a rugby player, and while there’s a very strong chance this could happen, at that point, he’d never played or watched a match. Where did he get that idea from? But all of the girls – split 50/50 – had two ambitions. Half to be mums and the other to be princesses. There is, of course, absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be a mum, but the princess ambition is a little more unlikely if we do the numbers right? Only one Aussie princess in all of history, so our little Aussie angels have a fairly unlikely chance of achieving that one. It could happen, nothing is impossible, but… When I see stuff like this, I always wonder why young girls don’t want to be something else at that age? Did I dream of being a princess or a mother at five, six and seven? I can only ever remember wanting to be a police woman when I was young. I got close to doing it too, although I’m glad I didn’t. Do we not talk to them about these things from a young age? I mean many of these girls had working mum role models, so it’s not that. I just find it curious that their imaginations are not as fired up to be firemen or policemen, or other stuff like our little dudes are. Is it the movies they watch? The cartoons? It’s hard for me to know because I don’t watch girly TV and movies. Anyone else know? In the meantime, my little Jax is getting a big fat lesson in girl power. Right now he’s watching YouTube. Oi Jax, pause that a sec. What jobs can girls do when they grow up?  “They can be policemen, presidents, firemen, and racing car drivers mum.” Good he’s learning. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

My mate Michelle, we met in India – 1995 This week marks 20 years since the eventful day I departed Melbourne’s International Airport with a one way ticket to London, via Nepal, India, China, Hong Kong, and Bangkok. I remember the tears of my departure and the well wishes – with many saying I’d be back within a couple of years. Even though I knew returning within two years was very unlikely, I never denied the possibility because who knows where life takes you? The only thing I knew for certain was my hunger to get out there and see the world was my strongest desire of all, and I wanted to get all I could out of the adventures the future offered me. Over the last 20 years I’ve lived in London, Boston, NYC, Sydney, Singapore, Phuket, Noosa, and back to Singapore. In every country/city I’ve lived, it’s given me an opportunity to explore neighbouring countries – both for work and for fun – and I’m not even sure how many I’ve been to. The numbers never mattered, I just know that when I’m on the road, seeing a place for the first time, or going back after decades since my first visit, I feel alive in a way I can’t explain to people who just don’t get that same feeling from travelling. It is the central pulse of my life. Why do I love it so? The appetite was born in 1992 when I visited Egypt, Jordan and Israel – my first time out of Australia. To be in such a dynamic part of the world, with history going back hundreds of thousands of years, where civilization started, where the modern religions started, where so much of what we take for granted started; well I was completely hooked. It wasn’t easy travelling there as a young woman alone – and it’s still not easy today – but to be in the midst of it was electrifying. Nathalix and Saskia, at my wedding in Koh Samui 2005. We met in London in 1996 The other part that drew me in were the people I met along the way. Most were amazing, some were complete arseholes, but I became hooked on meeting people from different walks of life and understanding their journeys, plus why they thought the way they thought. I also became hooked on having my thinking challenged – my values, my ideals, my beliefs… it was all challenged and turned upside down, inside out, and mostly, it gave me the wisdom to reject the programmingand keep the good bits worth holding onto. Throughout my travels I’ve spent A LOT of time on my own. While not easy and often lonely; silence is amazing. When you have no choice but to contend with yourself, and every day you have experiences to challenge that thinking, the person that comes out the other side is often a lot different than the one who went in. I know people who spend thousands of dollars on therapy to do this, but my therapy was to travel and face myself, day after day, until I got myself to a clearer place.  Facing my mind, more than anything, is something I value from my last 20 years. It’s been liberating. On my journeys, I’ve made many friends. People who I cherish and will always cherish. A global family, many of whom I haven’t seen for far too long, but we’re still connected, still in each other’s lives and the impact they made on my soul remains to this day. Some people you connect with immediately even if the time together is short. Some are with you for a lifetime. I definitely got addicted to people. Addicted to the ease at which people can come in and out of your life, making such an impact. Kev, in Boston circa 1999 My career has been awesome to keep my dreams of wandering alive. Landing in London at the beginning of the technology revolution, working in marketing and communications, it ensured I have been able to get jobs that kept me on the move, experiencing new places/cultures, meeting people who were changing the world, exploring new thinking, making sense of new ideas, etc.. Sure, it hasn’t been a seamless career journey and I’ve never reached the top of my game – whatever that is. But then is that what I wanted? No it wasn’t. In fact, I’ve constantly made decisions that didn’t allow that to happen, because the only thing that is important is freedom. Freedom is still the only thing I value. Being hunkered down, not being able to fly, well I just can’t do it. That dream doesn’t speak to me. In all the wanderings, I’ve remained Australian. I love my country and every day the yearning to return is there. It’s never gone. My community is there. My family too. But do I want to go back yet? I’ve tried twice and the world pulls me out again, on the road, wandering, seeing, experiencing. I never get bored of it and Australia feels so far away from that. But now my boys are getting to the age where they want to know their grandparents. Who is this uncle they hear me speaking about? Cousins – who are they? But only half of us is Australian, the other half is British, so we need to ensure that is catered to as well, and Singapore is still almost half way between the two…. What to do? Where to go? When to go? Singapore has been amazing. I can’t believe it’s been more than 11 years. The opportunities Steve and I have professionally keep us here. It’s a gorgeous life for a family. It’s a safe life. The boys go to incredible schools and Lex is getting the support he needs to flourish. It’s always warm. We have a wonderful community. But we also have a wonderful global community that started here but people have moved on