My list of firsts (Part 4 – Final Installment)

This is the final installment of my list of firsts. My trip through northern Australia has come to an end. I am glad to say that a bit more adventuring took place than I had expected for the GSE program. People, places, history – those were the things I wanted to connect with while in Australia. I feel satisfied with the new experiences and connections made during my trip.

The final installment of my lists of first includes my: 

-first Australian meat pie

-first taste of local tropical fruit- mangosteens, dragon fruit, custard apple, and rambutan

-first time I've gone white water rafting

-first time playing lawn bowls

-first time eating kangaroo

-first time holding a python

-first time holding a koala

-first time hand-feeding a kangaroo

-first time seeing a banana tree up close

-first time learning about Australia's sugar cane industry

-first time watching an outdoor orchestra performance at sunset

-first time learning about crown of thorns starfish and their effect on the Great Barrier Reef

-first time I admitted my love for Australian butter – this one pack I ate was made of 88% milk fat!

-first time at Australian beachfront markets (in Airlie Beach)

-first time enjoying a beach in Australia - at Magnetic Island

(Getting a tour of a sugar mill.)

(A night in Ingham; taking in a concert in the park and learning lawn bowls.)

(Holding on to some of nature's other creatures.)

(Yummy local fruit.)

(Taking in the beach.)

(Meat pies. A tasty taste of Australia.)

 

(Adventuring included white water rafting with new friends.)

Our Hosts are Our Windows

Our GSE hosts have been our window to Australia and its people, places, values, customs and stories. The people who serve as hosts volunteered their time so we GSE participants experienced an educational and enriching journey through Aussie-land. 

Let me clarify this point - I am defining hosts to mean everyone who helped make our GSE trip possible. This includes the GSE coordinator, lodging hosts, drivers, Rotary Club members, hosts of the many places we visited, and everyone else who added to the coordination of the month-long trip. 

The majority of our time during the trip was planned out for us. We were masters of only a few hours of our time - leaving little time for self-exploration. I realized early that I would have to turn myself over to our hosts and trust them to show me their Australia. From this point forth, I was a sponge for insight and information. This doesn't mean I shut off my critical thinking, did not contribute or did not ask for some things during the time I did control. I simply allowed myself to be taught (something I've told former players on teams I've coached).

Our hosts opened our eyes to Australia. They did this by serving in several roles, such as:

-Serving as our educators

-Serving as our second (and third, and fourth, and...) point of view

-Serving as our coaches

-Serving as our cheerleaders

-Serving as our laughing companions

-Serving as our friends

Through our hosts the intense introduction to Australia flowed seemlessly. We learned about: the Northern Territory; Queensland; small towns; mid-sized cities; "blue collar" people who work with their hands; professionals who occasionally wear ties; Timor Leste; young, emerging leaders; ANZAC day; Easter traditions; employment practices; and life-long Rotarians.

The values of Rotary and good-hearted people shined throughout the trip. Our hosts were: kind; giving; thoughtful; proactive; loving; sociable; inquisitive; humorous; teachers; concerned for the common good; fraternal; whole-hearted; and much, much more.

This whirlwind GSE tour was exhausting - but in a good way. Now at the end of our trip I feel the accomplishment of learning from our Aussie hosts and sharing of ourselves and our home. The future will include at least one project to support our new friends in Timor Leste. This is one of the outcomes of our trip - learning where else we can serve.

I did not know what all to expect on the trip. And I did not know what all to give. I decided to simply open my arms to our hosts and receive from their generosity. And in returned I tried to give as much of myself as possible. I feel nourished by my hosts' generosity and hope they gained from me as well.

Our hosts were our window to Australia.

Our hosts were our windows to personal courage we didn't know we had.

Our hosts were our mates on this voyage.

Our hosts have become our friends.

God bless our hosts and their (our) beloved Australia. 

(Lodging hosts in Ingham, Queensland - Vincenzo and Monica.)

(GSE coordinator Asha and husband John (right).)

(Lodging host in Darwin, Northern Territory - Raquel.)

(Lodging host in Darwin, Northern Territory - Peter and Bronwyn.)

One Day On an Island

It seems that no matter where you are in the world, life on an island is a thing apart. Physically separated from the rest of the world, islands attract people looking to get away, to relax, to find serenity, to live their own unique brand of existence.

Magnetic Island is no different. Just a short ferry ride away from Townsville, we were lucky enough to get a glimpse of this tropical oasis in just a quick 24 hours.

"Hope you're ready to relax!" yelled our host Chris as we stepped off the ferry. And after four packed weeks of travel, we sure were.

After loading up our ever-expanding luggage pile into the back of Chris's white pickup truck, we squeezed in and made the five minute commute from the ferry terminal to his house.  A lush garden partly obscures the walkway to Chris's tropical-style house, as if to say - all who walk through these doors will be relaxed. Oh, and he has a no shoes allowed inside the house policy, too. Inside we met Kaye, Chris's wife of ten years and partner of 21. Quick to laugh and quick to poke fun, the couple treated us to a lovely night of shared stories, a delicious meal, and a healthy supply of wine and beer. Not to mention barrel-aged brandy and Tim Tams - an Aussie chocolatey treat reminiscent of Kit Kats.. Did you know that the thing to do in Australia is use Tim Tams as a straw to drink your coffee with? Well, it is. And we tried it, of course, much to the amusement of our Aussie hosts.

The next morning - after waking up without an alarm clock for the first time in weeks - we scrambled back into Chris's truck and got our own personalized tour of the island. We learn that Maggie (as the locals call it) is the type of place where you can pull over to the side of the road and see Koalas hanging from trees. Where Wallaby Way is a street you can live on. And where sometimes you find old pianos slowly deteriorating on the beach. That's just the kind of place this is.

Mid-morning we had a swim at Radical Beach, a lovely bay with clear, crisp water and green slopes of rocky forest. With only a handful of other swimmers, you almost got the feeling that this was our own little beach, our own little place of the island. Accessed via a slowly crumbling, windy, and potholed road, the simple adventure of getting there (so should we get out and push?) added to the feeling of isolation.

It's almost a bit surprising that Magnetic Island can feel so secluded at times - because there are a lot of tourists. Quite a lot of them, in fact. Most people on the island (and most people we met in Australia) term these folks "backpackers." These might be tourists who come and stay for a short stint, but others stay for a long while, picking up low paying jobs so they can stay for extended periods of time. They're easily spotted by their tie-dye wear, big backpacks, and skimpy bikinis. Not to mention the brightly colored golf carts that many tourists cruise around in.

After feeding some rock wallabies near Horseshoe Bay (a peaceful beach with a strip of restaurants, shops, and bars) we settled in for an outdoor lunch at The Early Bird, a quiet cafe with a surprisingly extensive menu. It was nice to just sit in the shade, sipping an espresso and looking out onto the beach. I think I could get used to that.

In the afternoon we had a few hours of free time, so I took the opportunity do something I've been craving - a hike. So I quickly threw some sunscreen and water in a backpack, Chris pointed me in the right direction, and I set off to find the trail. I climbed up to the top of a ridge overlooking the harbor, blue skies overhead, and managed to bust through one or two spiderwebs, with only minor panic that there could be those famous poisonous Aussie spiders attached. A very successful hike indeed.

To cap off our day, Chris and a few other members of the Magnetic Island Rotary Club hosted us for a beach side picnic, kangaroo kabobs included. It's true what they say - Aussie's really do love their barbeques. As the sun set on our last day in Australia, surrounded by new friends, good food, and the promise of Tim Tam cheesecake, I couldn't help but feel already nostalgic for this country, and the people we met here. To me, Maggie Island captures the true Aussie spirit we've come to know and love - independent, quick to laugh, bold, adventurous, and just a little bit different. As the ferry took off for Townsville, just a little closer to the real world and to home, we could feel the island life slowly slip away. But even in just 24 hours, we were reminded that sometimes to live the life you want to live, you have to simply live it. Thanks, Maggie.

The Great Barrier Reef

Even since arriving in the state of Queensland about two weeks ago, we've heard a lot about the Great Barrier Reef. And rightly so - it is the biggest tourist attraction for the region, the largest living thing on Earth, and a truly incredible wonder of the world.

When you think of the Great Barrier Reef, what comes to mind? If you're from the U.S., you've most likely heard the most extreme story - that it's dying. Or even dead already. You may have read about it in National Geographic, or heard President Obama say that he needs to take his daughters there before there's nothing left to see.

This type of coverage is important, and necessary. The world should know that the reef is in trouble, and that there are real impacts of climate change. But - like most things - this is only one side of the story.

We've talked to people who have a stake in the future of the reef. We went scuba diving and snorkeling on the outer reef. We've visited the Australian Institute of Marine Research and spoke with scientists who are on the front lines of reef preservation. Things are much more complicated than you might think. And, everyone has something to say about it.

"People will tell you the damage to the reef is coming from sugar cane farmers," said one friend in Mareeba. "Don't believe what they tell you."

"What's happening with the reef now is part of a typical cycle," said another in Ingham. "The coral bleaching you're seeing now is natural, it's happened before. It'll come back."

One frustrated friend told us, "tell Obama that he's wrong. People should and need to come to the reef. He's scaring people away."

Emotions about the reef are high, from what's causing the damage to the way it's portrayed in the media. People are upset about how the reef is portrayed, fearing it will keep tourists away. But, separate from the emotions and bias are the scientific facts. And that is, the ecosystem around the reef is irrefutably changing - and it's because of climate change, human impact, and its after affects. Disastrous cyclones are a part of it. And so are pesky things called the Crown of Thornes Starfish.

Crown of Thornes eat the organisms that live inside of the coral - and which give them their vibrant colors. The coral can't exist without these organisms, and will die if they don't return. These starfish make easy work of it - according to the research by AIMS, Crown of Thornes starfish are responsible for almost half the decline of the Great Barrier Reef.

According to scientists at the Australian Institute for Marine Science, a research center outside of Townsville, the population of Crown of Thornes Starfish has skyrocketed to out of control proportions in recent years. There are many reasons for this. Warmer waters are ideal places for these starfish to thrive. And their own predators - like the Triton shellfish - have been harvested well below natural levels.

So what are the folks at AIMS doing about it? Quite a lot, in fact. They're figuring out what makes the Crown of Thornes tick, and how best to manage them. They're breeding Tritons and growing their own corals. They're advocating for the reef, and it's power to not only provide the building blocks of life for thousands of species, but to provide livelihood and a robust economy for towns along the coast.

So what's happening to the Great Barrier Reef? For starters, it's not dead. It's still here, it's still beautiful, and it's still worth a trip around the world to see. But it also needs our protection, and it needs some of the best minds in the world thinking about how to save it for generations to come. We met some of those people, and they're doing amazing work. So read about them, about the reef, about what you can do to help save it. And then come and check it out for yourself.

My list of firsts (Part 3)

Regardless of whether they are large or small, my "firsts" continue. This is a list wrapping up my time in Darwin and transitioning to Mareeba. Here you go:

-first time eating Tim Tams

-first visit to a mango farm

-first sip of mango liqueur

-first Rotary District Conference (district 9550)

-first hot air balloon ride 

-first discussion with aboriginal-focused social enterprise

-first history lesson of the contribution of Chinese immigrants to Darwin

-first time hearing aborigine creation story

-first time visiting a coffee museum and tasting 8 types of coffee

-first time eating an Aussie meat pie

-first time sharing a golf course with kangaroos - I got the pictures to prove it

-first time meeting a "Nordic Princess"

-first time tasting Bundaberg Rum

-first time teaching the "Chicken Dance" to people from Timor Leste

-first time participating in comedic skit - I was making farting noises; gotta start somewhere

(Hot air ballooning over the Tablelands around Mareeba)

(No, this was not at Outback Steakhouse - the pie came from a cafe in Karunda)

The 'Roos share the golf course with us all day. 

Mango farm outside Mareeba.

At the district conference. 

Tasting mango and other fruit-based liqueurs.

Thank You Small Town Australia

In early May I spent four days in Mareeba, Queensland, Australia. A few things were different about Mareeba compared to other small towns I've lived in or in which I have family. The people drove on the left side of the road; the city had several round-abouts; and there were crocodiles in nearby streams.

But in many other ways Mareeba was just like many of the small towns I've called home. Agricultural was a major part of the economy. The city had a local manufacturing plant, in this case it was a chicken processing plant. Main street in Mareeba could be swapped out for many a Main Street in small town USA (minus the parking in the street divider). Small town America and small town Australia also have other similarities - the children can play and ride their bike without much fear of harm; and residents of small towns remind me that they can leave their houses or cars unlocked without fearing anyone will take anything. 

A friend who traveled on a previous GSE trip told me, "people are people Mario, regardless of where you travel to." This statement stuck in my head as I talked with people from Mareeba. The community faces similar challenges and opportunities as small town America. The community's children are going off to the larger cities for their university education and for jobs - many are not returning. The pressures of global economic competition does not spare them - a once highly profitable mango sector in Mareeba is facing growing competition, and area farmers are moving to growing bananas. This after their once lucrative tobacco growing industry was demolished by international competition who benefited from lower labor costs and less regulation.

Small town America and small town Australia don't get enough credit for their role in their respective country's economic and social vitality. Small towns produce the food and labor for large cities (among other things). 

Small town Australia is like small town America in this way also - it is a custodian of long-held customs and values. When we arrived in Mareeba we were greeted and treated as family. Mareeba residents proudly shared their community's history with us. Mareeba honored the past of its people as it looked to the future. 

So here I am, saying "thank you" to small town Australia. Away from the movement and noise of large city living I've seen and experienced the essence of Australia's people and country. And for that I am eternally grateful. 

(Learning about mango farms)

(Dinner and a dance at the "Igloo")

(Yes, this is the same Target company as the one headquartered back home in MN.)

(Having a sausage sizzle on the golf course; which we shared with about 30 kangaroos.)

Out of the Comfort Zone

A key part of the GSE experience is doing things, meeting people, and experiencing lifestyles that are outside of your ordinary day-to-day. In any type of culturally immersive experience, you're bound to push the limits of your comfort zone - and learn about yourself in the process.

In mentally preparing for this trip, I expected moments of exhaustion, of meeting people that held differing opinions of my own, of perhaps not always being having an easy go of it. This didn't necessarily intimidate me. But what I didn't expect was this - being confronted with fears I would normally avoid (like hot air balloon rides, scuba diving, white water kayaking) - but being compelled to undertake them anyways.

The beauty of this trip - and sometimes the most challenging thing - is that we really don't decide our fate. Each day is scheduled, with the various clubs deciding how best to show us their worlds. For some, that might mean visiting the local military museum, or sharing their aboriginal ancestry. And for some - namely the clubs in Mareeba, Cairns, and Mission Beach - that means sharing the sometimes scary adventures that this part of the world has to offer. And we have no choice but to partake.

For me, this is both an amazing and daunting prospect. I've always been a bit nervous about heights - and extreme sports in general. I'd rather keep two feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much. So when I saw a hot air balloon ride on the schedule, I have to admit that my stomach dropped. But the team was doing it, so I did too. The pre-dawn drive to the ballooning site was one I'll never forget - a mix of nerves, and a little bit of excitement. But in the end, what an extraordinary way to see the Tablelands it turned out to be.

Next up - scuba diving. When you have an opportunity to scuba dive and see the Great Barrier Reef, do you say no? Of course not. You go for it. The instructor essentially had to push me (albeit politely) into the water. I thought I would sink like a stone with the heavy gear strapped to my back. It took a few tries, but I focused on staying calm. And lo and behold, I found my breathe. And the experience was truly magical.

And finally - our latest adventure. White water rafting down the Tully River. This one was a doozey. I was incredibly nervous beforehand - even though I've rafted through rapids before, it was always on a big raft with lots of people and a guide essentially doing the work for us. This was different - we were paired up and put into an inflatable kayak, given a few helpful hints, and told to have fun. Of course, the guides went with us as we made our way through category three rapids, but in many ways we were on our own. For most of the way, the time was adrenaline filled but mostly dry. But on the third to last rapid, almost everyone on our team went for a little swim. I happened to swim (or float helplessly, more like) through a few rapids myself sans raft before eventually being hoisted back in. And, I have the scrapes to show for it. What a ride.

Here we are above, sharing war stories post raft - with celebratory beers in hand, of course.

Before diving in (sometimes literally) these experiences seemed scary. I doubted my ability to have fun a mile up in the sky, to breathe calmly underwater, and to navigate a boat through unforgiving waters. But in all three instances, and with just a few bumps and bruises to show for it, I did it. I'm realizing that not only can I survive these things, but I can have fun in the process. I'm building the confidence in my own ability to do something different, sometime really difficult - even something most people wouldn't do. And, I'm realizing, that's what GSE is all about.

Darwin is on my Mind

Last Friday was our last day in Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia, a city named after the famous scientist Charles Darwin. I toured the city and surrounding area for a total of 10 days, in which time I learned of its economy, its people, its challenges, its aspirations, and roots of its identity. 

As an outsider visiting Darwin I entered the city eager to learn about the make-up of the city and reasons why the current social and cultural threads exists. Community building, whether physical or relationship-based, is a small sociological experiment, with results tested by the never-ceasing tide of change. In this short blog post I don't have room to give a Tocqueville-esque description of Darwin. Nevertheless, I wanted to share some community threads that stood out to me. 

1. Darwin's present is shaped by its history in war and military service: None of us on this GSE trip knew of Darwin's involvement in World War II. The same Japanese fighter team which bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii bombed Darwin approximately three months later. Other parts of the Northern Territory were also heavily raided during WWII. There is a Royal Australian Air Force base in Darwin, and as in the U.S. many young men and women from small towns join the service. My host summed it up for me in our conversation about ANZAC day. He said, "We remember because it was terrible; we remember because it's shaped how we live; we remember because we don't want to forget and have history repeat itself."

2. Frontier Territory: Darwin is a mid-sized city, with a population near 135,000. Yet leave the small metro area's boundaries and you arrive to one of the frontiers of Australia. Small towns stand far and few between. The Northern Territory is large, roughly the size of the upper Midwest, but with only a total of 240,000 people. I sense a "live and let live" attitude and a tenacity to live off the land and what's available to people in a state so far away from Australia's densely populated commercial centers. 

3. A diverse, well traveled, well-educated population: Maybe it had to do with who I was staying with, or the members of the Rotary Club, but it seemed many people in Darwin had traveled to other countries. This travel to nearby Singapore, Bali, Dili, New Zealand, Thailand, Europe, and the U.S. gives many Darwin residents a glimpse into how other people live. When it comes to the U.S., the influence of U.S. pop culture - movies, music, trends - is also evident. What left the biggest impression on me was the diversity of the residents of Darwin. I sat in a shopping center waiting to be picked up for our next stop and saw a parade of nationalities walk by - each presumably adding to the cultural fabric of Darwin. 

4. Socializing is part of life balance: I admit it. I am a workaholic. My personal identity is wrapped up in my vocation. Being a person of few words, I tend to express my beliefs and principles through actions - work, volunteer work and the like. Also, I tend to socialize with fellow workaholics. So I found it both a bit challenging and refreshing to spend a considerable amount of time socializing with our hosts and other people in Darwin. 

5. Healthy skepticism of what government can do for the people: On face value, Australia sounds as if it has more government regulation and involvement in people's lives than the U.S. government in Americans' lives. Even so many people of Darwin shared with me their skepticism of what government can do for the people. It shouldn't surprise me, yet this belief rang out to my American-trained ears.

6. Everyone knows everyone: This is true in small towns and cities alike. In Minnesota, with its population nearing 6 million, most circles are still small. In Darwin, the Territory's capital city with 135,000 inhabitants, it's not unlikely that you will run into your elected officials at the grocery store or your pastor at the cliffs. Additionally, like in other small cities, people participate in numerous activities and serve in multiple community roles; hence, why everyone seems to know everyone. I hope Darwin keeps this everyone-knows-everyone thread for a long time to come. 

7. The Forgotten City: In many ways, Darwin appears to be a forgotten city. None of us on this trip knew about Darwin and its bombing during World War II. Darwin is also closer to the capitals of 5 other nations to the north (in southeast Asia) than to its own capital (Canberra) in southern Australia. And, as one teenage son of my hosts' told me, even when AC/DC announced a tour of Australia's capital cities, Darwin was absent on that list of capitals. This sense of a forgotten city has not held Darwin back, instead, the city boasts its own unique regional culture, forged over time and by the aboriginal and multicultural residents who have made Darwin their home. 

Darwin is not immune to persistent and emerging social and economic forces. The local economy appears to be stagnating. Social and economic disparities for the aboriginal population would lead me to believe the large aboriginal population in the Darwin area is underemployed - leading to underutilized human capital. But even with these and other external forces Darwin has risen from the ruins of World War II and Hurricane Tracy to become a vibrant mid-sized city. All indications are Darwin will continue to find ways to be a thriving community in Australia's Top End. 

My list of firsts (Part 2)

My list of firsts continues. Some of these are experiences only possible in Australia. Others are activities I've not done back home, even though those activities are there also. Here is part 2: 

-first time holding a baby crocodile 

-first time eating crocodile ("croc bites," like chicken nuggets but made from crocodile)

-first time swinging a golf club (well, at least in the last 25 years)

-first time meeting a person of aboriginal descent

-first time learning about aboriginal culture and history in Australia

-first time touring an Australian Rules Football stadium

-first time on a catamaran

-first time seeing the sun set over Australia

-first time visiting a national park of another country

-first time I've pushed myself physically this year 

-first time attending country music event (singer Kim Koole) in another country

-first time visiting a parliament - and I meet the Madame Speaker of Parliament 

-first time participating in ANZAC day, a service similar to the U.S.'a Memorial Day

-first time wearing virtual reality goggles

-first time seeing the International Space Station fly across the sky

Our trip is a bit shy of the halfway point. Expect two or three more lists of firsts.

To Be Worthy

"We must strive to be worthy of the legacy that has been given to us."

Those were the words of the chaplain presiding over Darwin's celebration of ANZAC Day (or at least I think they were - it was 5am and I was feeling a big groggy), a national holiday meant to commemorate Australia and New Zealand's soldiers lost, and soldiers serving.

His words gave me pause. It sparked a moment of reflection. Am I worthy of the legacy that has been given to me? Am I as deeply grateful for it as I should be?

This legacy - the world I was born into - was truly given. But 100 years ago, that legacy was far from certain. Australians seem to have a deep sense of this. And nowhere was that more apparent than during the dawn service for ANZAC Day.

In Australian state capitals and cities across the nation, ANZAC Day is an increasingly celebrated occasion. People set their alarms for ungodly hours and pull themselves out of bed for a dawn ceremony. They bring their families to parades and cheer the service men and women as they march with heads held high. They toss some steaks on a grill and take "gunfire shots," a put-some-hair-on-your-chest drink of rum and milk.

But, most importantly, they remember. They still mourn the loss of ANZAC soldiers who lost their lives at Gallipoli. They speak with pride of Australia's heroism in France during World War II. People of Darwin, with eyes overhead, explain the city's plight as Japanese bombers - the same who attacked Pearl Harbor - wrecked havoc on their city. For the people I've met, these events don't feel as if they existed on some distant date in some distant past. They're as real and emotional as if they happened yesterday.

As me and my teammates approached the gathering crowds yesterday morning, it was the silence that struck me most. Although over a thousand people were gathered, they stood together, whispering softly or not saying anything at all. Slowly, the sunlight filtered through the quiet dawn. A bugle sounded, wreaths were laid at the cenotaph. I found the entire ceremony to be unexpectedly moving, to be quietly powerful. This was not a glorification of war, but a time to unite in remembrance of shared sacrifice.

I didn't anticipate it, but ANZAC has suddenly become the highlight of this trip for me so far. I so admire the Australian's shared sense of history, of pride. In ceremonies around the world - and indeed at Gallipoli itself - Australians are moved to tears to remember the loss of Australian lives over 100 years ago. I find that to be remarkable. And, I'm inspired. I hope that I, in turn, can feel such a connection. They've reminded me that everyday, I should strive to be worthy of the legacy - of democracy, of diversity, of freedom of speech - that so many have fought to give.

Loser Party

ANZAC is the Australian New Zealand Army Corp and those belonging to that Corp are remembered as the most heroic and valorous of all Oceanic men. During World War I, the ANZACs fought at Gullipolli, where they staved off wave after wave of Turkish fighters.  The stories of the Battle of Gullipolli are horrific and tragic, with men dying one upon another and piles of people pock marking the beach.  To commemorate that day, among others, Australia celebrates ANZAC Day, the equivalent to our Memorial Day.  In Darwin, the whole town shows up for a dawn service to pay their respects to veterans.  I even heard a man on the phone wake up his friend at 5am and verbally force him to come down to the Cenotaph, the local memorial spire, erected for just such an occasion.  The day is held in great reverence and brings with it many memories and special occasions, including playing Heads and Tails (it's only legal on ANZAC Day).

But one glaring fact appears to smear all of this: the ANZACs lost that day on the beach in Turkey.  Despite their great efforts and sacrifice, history records an 'L' for the Allies.  So why celebrate a great loss of life and limb that ended up having little impact on the war effort?  Who throws a party when they lose?

The damn Australians, that's who.  They don't celebrate strength (though they have it) and they don't reward bragging (though they have a lot to brag about); they honor sacrifice over victory.  This morning as the sun rose over the ocean, I witnessed an entire town stand up for character and virtue and saw them pass it on to their children though ritual, a concept ebbing away from American culture.  As my team and I laid a wreath at the base of the monument, watched by tens of thousands on tv, we had the great privilege to take part in that.  Perhaps we might remember this day and pass it on to our children though a ritual of our own, and sow the seeds that soldiers started that day in Turkey on a beach much like the one that called to us nearby.

I would encourage our readers to do a little digging of their own on both the ANZACs and the bombing of Darwin during World War II.  Their stories are as moving as our own American stories and are a steady reminder that we did not stand alone in that great fight.

Lessons from Timor Leste

Timor Leste was not on my mind when I was first invited to apply for this Group Study Exchange (GSE). I recall hearing only Australia when this professional development opportunity was forwarded my way. Two members from the Australia group traveling to America were Timorese from one of the Timor Leste Rotary Clubs. So as part of the exchange we were going to Timor Leste - it finally stuck in my head. 

I did my research on Timor Leste. I learned of their recent struggle for independence. I read short articles about their current journey towards reconciliation. I googled the websites to the places we were visiting to try to gain insight on the challenges and opportunities of an emerging economy...and and emerging nation. 

But secondary research cannot replace on-the-ground learning. The visuals of poverty I saw while I was there reminded me of poor rural communities in the U.S. and Mexico I've visited that seemed forgotten by time. Every place has a story, and a people who can teach you or remind you of valuable life lessons. For me, this is what I took with me from Timor Leste: 

1. Learn without judgement: It was difficult, but necessary, to ask questions from the locals without asking "why." I did not want to be judgmental - both so as not to offend and also so as not to limit my perception of what was happening from my lenses, my "why's."

2. Humble services vs. saviorship: I was only in Timor Leste for two days. My humble service during those two days was to share what I knew about economic development and youth education. If I am fortunate enough to be of service to the team in Timor who I met, it will be just that, humble service. I don't need to save anyone, just serve in creating community and economic conditions that allow people to reach their own potential. 

3. Limitations to our service: There is a limit in what we can and should do while serving others. Self-determination is a pillar of Chicanismo (Mexican-American political and cultural movement which reached a peak in the 1960's and 1970's) and it was obvious it is a pillar for the Timorese people as well. At one point we had a young man tell one of my traveling companions that they didn't need "us" in Timor. I would disagree to some extent - a small emerging nation can benefit from international advisors on governing and capital to ignite economic growth. Yet, I could understand his desire to see his people achieve these milestones on their own. 

Now Timor Leste is firmly on my radar. I left inspired by the Rotary club members working to build wings at a local clinic and distribute donated furniture to a school for young adults. I was inspired by both the hope and actions of the young waiter who had learned English in preparation for his job at our hotel's restaurant and was helping other employees practice their English after work. As in other communities, the pace of educated youth may outpace the creation of local jobs - this was a challenge I heard from a couple of people. 

I spent some time trying to communicate with our driver and an 11 year-old boy, both of whom did not speak either English or Portuguese (official language of Timor Leste). As we gestured and cobbled together a conversation where I learned our driver liked American country music, I was reminded of the challenges and excitement of building community. I have high hopes for Timor Leste and its journey to greater democracy and prosperity. 

Restaurant along beachfront.

Entrance to airport from arriving plane.

Rotary Club member, Judite, in Dili, Timor Leste.

Large outdoor classroom at SOLS 24/7.

Learning about other local economies

Darwin reminds me of St. Paul - it's a mid-sized city with small town charm. But it's different, of course. The average temperature right now is around 90 degrees with around 70% humidity - and it's fall down here. There are other similarities and differences, which is why this Rotary exchange program has been very educational. 

Over the last couple of days our team has immersed itself in learning about Darwin's business community. At the moment, tourism and oil refining are the two industries that stand out the most to me. 

Listening to business owners I hear themes common back home. One conversation with a private airline business operator included the pressures the business is facing from competition from both nonprofit and government entities also operating small air services - these two other sectors exist for their primary nonprofit and government purposes, but also take on traditional for-profit work as a means of achieving sustainability.

One large oil and gas extraction and refining project is located in Darwin. The company is trying to meet a quadruple bottom line - make a profit for shareholders, hire and contract equitably, be environment responsible, and be socially responsible to the community. How is it doing in all four areas? The answer of course varies on who you ask. But what is evident is that Darwin has banked part of its economic future in the energy industry and residual economic activity from this sector.

Another business visit was to a social enterprise working to train aboriginal community members and improve job skills, create job references, and establish a work history. The business is a gallery and cafe located in a historical building. This business is positioned to maximize its social impact. Is it sustainable? We never got to that part in our conversation.

And, how can I leave out the crocodile park that conducts research and educates the public about the value of crocodiles. Crocodiles are part of the ecosystem, and they can be harvested for food products (I tasted the croc bites) and their skin can be sold to fashion businesses. This strategy converts the crocodiles from nuisances that eat cattle, to animals that provide sustenance and economic opportunity to entrepreneurs in Darwin. 

While Darwin and its  state (Northern Territory) are unique one economic thread that's common with the Twin Cities is that both towns are working intentionally to have enough jobs for the youth in the community and working to improve their city's quality of life. I did not have to travel half-way around the world to learn this. But I am glad I did. It's been helpful to gauge how innovation in our city compares with other cities and learn economic strategies from other which may be solutions back home.

(I am currently in the city of Darwin in the Northern Territory, Australia.)

Series of Firsts (Part 1)

Series of Firsts (Part 1)

"This trip will be a life-changing experience." I heard these words repeatedly as I applied for the Group Study Exchange (GSE), prepared for this trip, and arrived in Australia. "You got to do this," said my friend Noemi. "This will change your life," said my team leader Mark. My host family has also reminded me that I won't be the same after this trip. 

And I couldn't agree with them more. Change doesn't always come in big bursts. Small, incremental changes can have a cumulative effect on how you see and experience the world. For me, this trip has included a series of "firsts." Firsts that are incrementally widening my view and experience of the world. Firsts that are making me deal with little insecurities and my introverted tendencies. And firsts that make me think of different ways in which I can advance social good and build social capital. So here is a list of firsts for me during the first few days of my GSE trip to Australia.  

-first time traveling overt the Pacific Ocean

-first time living abroad for a month - something I've wanted to do for a long time

-first time in a double decker plane

-first time using bathroom on a plane 

-first time flying over night (the night seem to never end with the time change)

-first time sleeping for an extended period of time on a plane, approximately 6hrs

-first time in Australia

-first time traveling with group of friends or colleagues outside of U.S.

-first time writing blog

-first time I had to stand in line and be sniffed by a dog - at customs

-first time in Brisbane (airport)

-first time in uniform with my GSE team

-first time in the Southern Hemisphere 

-first time eating warm food in plane

-first time dealing with jet lag

-first time stewardess hit my knee with the beverage cart while I was sleeping

-first time in a long time I did not sit in a window seat 

-first sunrise over the mountains in Dili, Timor Leste 

-first visit to an orphanage 

-first history lesson of Darwin's and Timor's involvement in WWII

-first time meeting a U.S. Ambassador (Timor Leste) 

-first time drinking Timorese coffee in (a growing industry in Timor Leste)

-first time saying Portuguese greeting - bom dia (good morning)

-first time - well, at least in a long time - trying to have a conversation with someone when neither of us speak the same language

More to come. 

The Promise of Timor-Leste

Timor-Leste is a stunningly beautiful place. Sandy beaches, gorgeous coral reefs, lush, green mountains. 

It's also a country with a deep history of violence and subjugation. 500 years of Portuguese colonialism, decades of Indonesian occupation, and civil unrest following independence in 1999 have left a deep and jagged impact on the land and its people. And yet, it seems, change is happening - and for the better. 

Here in the farthest corner of the world (from us), a quiet but powerful shifting of the tides is underway. Timor Leste has a thriving and strengthening democracy. The youth of Timor-Leste are passionate about the environment. Timorese coffee beans - purchased by the likes of Starbucks in droves - are giving the country a foothold in agricultural exports. Timorese seem to welcome development and partnership with international governments. And a strong tourism industry - remember those sandy beaches? - seems inevitable. 

So what accounts for all these remarkable changes? It depends on who you ask. According to the US Ambassador and her staff, it's forgiveness. "Timorese people have an incredible capacity for forgiveness," said one official during our visit to the U.S. Embassy on Tuesday. "They want to move on, to work together." 

And what about development? According to USAID, they've played a hand, too. "We're very proud of our work on coffee here," they said. USAID has a a wide scope of projects in the country, Other country governments have programs as well, including Australia and Portugal. People around the world are invested in this place.

Scores of international entities monitored the last election, helping to ensure a safe and peaceful process. Remarkably 70% of the population turned out, often waiting in lines for hours upon hours, and walking far distances just to be able to exercise this newly gained right. If only our own system enjoyed this type of dedication.  

But as my teammate Jon noted, it is the Timorese people who truly deserve the credit. After dozens of bloody and heartbreaking years of the fight for independence (the history of which we delved into at Dili's Resistance Museum), they're determined to make the best of their freedom. 

There's no doubt that Timor-Leste has a long way to go. It's one of the poorest countries in the world. Health statistics are some of the lowest anywhere, with high rates of malnutrition and maternal mortality. 

And yet. There is a promise in Timor-Leste. A promise of a bright future, of a people who are picking themselves up from their bootstraps. I hope someday to return and see even more smiling faces, strengthening infrastructure, healthy kids, people striving for more. And visitors wanting a slice of those sandy beaches. I know I do. 

East Timor doesn't need our help

When we stepped off the plane in East Timor, the air was thick with humidity, jungle flora, and a hint of poverty.  We flowed through the airport, hopped into a van, and experienced our first adventure in Dili traffic patterns, which consists of daring right turns, driving in the opposite lane, and much honking.  We stayed in the American hotel, a plush 6 floor tower in a gated shopping center. We then drove outside of the city to see the beach and some local village and sites, including an old Portuguese fort from a couple hundred years ago: it sat crumbling as the jungle continued to overwhelm it, cannons still fixed out to sea, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Just 18 years ago, East Timor became a country, throwing off Indonesian rule in a bloody escape to freedom and poverty. Only 7 years later, violence erupted again. Over the past 30+ years, an estimated 400,000 Timorese have died.  The current population of the island is 1.2 million. They need agriculture, industry, and constant economic growth.  But they don't need help doing it.  Or so I was told by one 17 year old.

I never learned his name.  He's a student at SOLS, an international educational cooperative that is focused on bringing up the next generation of change makers in developing countries.  He asked me, "how do you feel coming to my country?" I told him I felt hot, but that wasn't what he meant. After a bit of questioning, he finally rephrased his question: "why have you come here?" I told him I came to learn and to meet his country and people. He didn't understand. I must be there to help him and make him in my image, undoubtedly. That's how it works, in his mind. But he made sure I knew the reality of it: he doesn't need or want my help.

And I realized he was right. The people of East Timor are resilient beyond measure, having survived the brutal occupation of Indonesia.  They are resourceful, using the jungle and ocean to it's every advantage.  they are thoughtful, kind, hard working, and most all determined and fiercely independent.  I recall having seen a similar people from just over 200 years ago, a people incensed over taxation without representation and the incurrent violence filling the squares of their cities.  We could learn a lot about ourselves from the Timorese.  And, hopefully, they can learn from us, even if they don't need it. 

Preview of the first few days

My journey to and through Australia begins today. I board my first flight at 2:30pm today and then have two more flights to our final destination, Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia.

Our team’s first few days include our flights, adjusting to the time change, followed by a two-day trip to Dili, Timor-Leste. Timor-Leste is a small island nation a short flight away over the Timor Sea. I personally am not very familiar with this country and am looking forward to learning about their people, the country’s economy, history and anything else the hosts will share with us.

In particular I am interested to hear how a small island nation works to create and maintain a sustainable economy. A couple of our visits while in Dili will include conversations with a leader of a local clinic and a representative of a social enterprise.

The social enterprise, SOLS 24/7, is a solar energy company which designs, builds, and maintain solar energy systems. The company dedicates 80% of its net profits to educating underserved communities. We’ll be hearing from the Deputy Director of SOLS 24/7 in Timor-Leste. SOLS 24/7 works with 3,000 in 47 branches in the country.  (http://www.sols247.org/)

I’m curious to learn if the social enterprise trains underserved communities for jobs with the company. Does it install solar energy systems in communities lacking other energy infrastructure? What’s the scale of the operation – is it a multi-million dollar enterprise? A billion dollar enterprise? How are civic leaders engaged in determining where the company directs its purpose-driven activities?

Lastly, I do know Timor-Leste has had a long journey to independence. I’m looking forward to our visit to the Timorese Resistance Archive & Museum, and humbly hearing and learning about Timor-Leste struggle for independence and democracy. (http://amrtimor.org/amrt/index.php?lingua=en)

Australia, here I come!

In a little more than a week I board my first trans-Pacific flight to Australia. Wow! I wasn’t sure if this day would come for me. A few months ago I began a self-granted sabbatical. My position at a previous employer was eliminated and I needed to look for another job. More than that, I felt I needed to explore what would be a next phase in my career.

During this time to rest, recharging and renewal, I was convinced by a friend of mine to apply for the Rotary Club’s Group Study Exchange (GSE). My friend, Noemi Treviño, had participated in a GSE to India a few years back. She had been encouraging me to apply for several years – reminding me every time that GSE was a life-changing opportunity. But due to work and family commitments, I had chosen not to apply – until this year.

I’m grateful that I was selected for this year’s Group Study Exchange to northern and eastern Australia. After much thought and consultation with friends and colleagues, I’ve decided to pivot my career path and focus on helping nonprofits build internal capacity to advance their mission, including creating or growing earned revenue strategies that lead to greater sustainability, autonomy and social impact. This educational trip to Australia will give me an opportunity to talk with government officials, civic leaders, nongovernmental organizations leaders, and others about both economic opportunity strategies for low-income communities, and the role which cross-sector partnerships of the leaders mentioned above play in fostering greater economic inclusion and prosperity.

I will be beginning a new job when I return from our Australia trip (yes, his means the sabbatical will be over). This soon-to-be-announced next step in my career moves me forward in my vocation to support purpose-driven organizations. Now, it’s time to finish my preparation for this trip so I can gain and share the most possible with our new friends and colleagues in Australia.

--Mario Hernández