The Gaborone Yacht Club

Tucked away behind a barbed-wire fence and down a dusty ungraded road is the Gaborone Yacht Club. I'm fairly sure that the name is a joke, although the 'club' is next to the water and keeps a few kayaks for members. On a Friday night it's where the expats flock. And who can blame them, drinking a G&T on the patio seems to be a perfect way to celebrate a sunset like this.

This is Home

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of 'home' recently. It started way back in March when I flew back to Boston from Japan. Catching the bus back into town from the airport I was suddenly struck by the realisation that, although I was going back to my 'house', I didn't feel like I was returning 'home'. The realisation that I was 'home-less', in the most literal definition of the word, was not the liberating experience one might think and has since prompted many discussions with friends about concepts of 'home' and what home means to them.

I think I first became aware of the difference between 'house' and 'home' when I finally moved out of my parents house after university. Gradually over a period of months 'home' moved from Mum and Dads to Carlton and then North Melbourne. Their house, my old home, slowly became "mum and dads". It's a transition that I am sure everyone goes through, and for me, the switch from saying "going home" to "going to mum and dads" was as much for simplicity and to prevent confusion than anything else. But the change was none-the-less significant.

Moving to Boston, 'home' took on a new meaning that, more-or-less, encompassed the whole of Australia, rather than one city, or even a house. For the people that I spoke with it became a vague concept of a landmass straddling the Indian and Pacific Oceans. And for me it also changed. For the first time 'home', my home, had no physical structure but became a tangled web of people, places and smells. Home was Sunday dinner, good coffee, Brunswick Street, summer, trams, talking nephews and pregnant friends. But it was only after the bus ride back into Boston that I became consciously aware of the difference between 'house' and 'home'.

With all this thinking about house and home and having just moved into a new place in Botswana I was really surprised to come across this site today. This is home is a project by Christa and Jen which is documenting exactly this idea - what does home mean to you? They write:

If home is where the heart is, where is yours? A visual exploration of the

concept of 'home,' across continents, oceans and neighborhoods.

Until the 28th of August they are collecting phrases and images of what home means to you. At the end of the month they will compile readers favourites into a series of postcards. Head over to their site and check out some of the submissions already made. I'm also interested in what 'home' means to you, leave your comments below.

This is my new house, definitely not yet my 'home'. :)

Watching from the side line

This is the soccer oval opposite the hospital. Just out of view to the left are three concrete Volleyball courts. Every night when I leave the hospital there are people training on the oval and courts. I'm not sure who they are, but lots of people like this man (and me) stop and watch as they go about their drills and exercises.

I'm slowly getting used to living in Gabs. Yesterday I moved into my house - its a 3 bedroom apartment in the Village Apartments compound I'm sharing with two American girls. It's not flash my any means and reminds me a lot of cheap student housing - the walls need a paint, the carpet is coming up - but it appears to be fairly standard for Gaborone. The place has had different expats moving in and out over the last few years. It is clear that it has been temporary living for most people - the furniture is cheap and the walls are bare. On the weekend I'm planning buying a few things to make if feel more "homey".

From the Botswana HIV/AIDS Handbook 2008

Lots of reading going on at the moment. Reading protocols, reading handbooks, reading more protocols. Feel like I have an never-ending jumble of inclusion and exclusion criteria in my head. Today I'm reading the Botswana HIV/AIDS Handbook. It's a fairly mundane read articulating treatment regimes, definitions for when to start and stop treatment etc etc. But one thing caught my eye, and perhaps gives a small insight into the uphill battle that is being faced in trying to reduce the burden of HIV in this country.

Sexual myths and misconceptions often interfere with safe sex messages, and

must be addressed candidly with patients. Such myths include the following:

o A woman with a wet or well-lubricated vagina is promiscuous, and

application of agents to decrease such wetness—which results in “dry

sex”—is necessary to prevent the impression of promiscuity.

o Self-masturbation is unnatural, or a cause of loss of fertility or energy.

o Sex with a virgin or infant will cure HIV infection.

o Condoms have worms or spread HIV.

o Condoms have large pores which permit HIV transmission.

o Showering after unprotected intercourse will prevent HIV infection.

Have a good weekend!

Arrival

It's been a bumpy few days. My arrival in Botswana was less than welcoming. A driver picked me up from the airport (very good, positive feelings all round) - and then dropped me off at the hotel saying "see you Monday". It's safe to say that Gaborone isn't the most happening of places on the weekend and with no clear idea of where I was in relation to the rest of the city it was a little isolating. To top it all off - no money. VISA runs a monopoly on the ATMs in Botswana and unless you have a VISA electronic card the ATMs refuse to give you money. So, with only Mastercard and Cirrus as my trusty plastic and American dollars in cash, which no one wanted to touch on the weekend, I was left to wonder the streets and eat at the hotel restaurant.

So far work has also been a little disappointing. The Botswanan's are polite, but distant and have a habit of not informing you about what is going on. I'm still not really sure what I'm doing here, although I have read the protocol of the '1066' trial that I'm supposed to be working on. Was told today that we can go ahead and recruit people, but the trial has strict inclusion criteria and after 4 months they haven't recruited anyone. Hmm...

On the up side the weather is lovely and I'm getting lots of time to think about my next move, which may be sooner than expected.

Heuriger

One of the things that I have fallen in love with this summer in Vienna has been the Heuriger. The best translation of Heuriger is Wine Hall, but for me it could be loosely defined as the 'Austrian Summer Pub/Beer Garden'.

Traditionally the Heuriger (today's wine) was owned by the local winemaker and served the most recent vintage's wine over the summer months. Today they run throughout the year, but still serve wine direct from the vineyard in 1/2 litre bottles. Mixed with mineral water it makes a delicious and refreshing evening drink.

To add to the unique experience many Heuriger still employ musicians to play traditional Viennese and Austrian folk songs. The first time I visited the Heuriger someone whispered in their ears that I was Australian and one of the first songs that they played our table was 'Waltzing Matlida'. It was a really touching experience to be so far from home, in an Austrian Heuriger and hear a song from home played on the Accordion and Guitar. Very special.

This will probably be my last post from Vienna. On Thursday I leave for Botswana and the adventure will continue there.

A New Beginning

The blog has been quiet of late. I've been resting and reflecting on what has been an incredibly busy year. My life has taken some unexpected turns. Twelve months ago I would never have imagined that I would be contemplating a move to Bostwana. But in three short weeks I will pack my suitcase again, this time bound for Gaborone.

I'm still a little unsure about what my job entails, but I'll be working for this group as a physician on their Clinial Trials Unit, managing the paediatric HIV/AIDs trials.

So the blog is changing a little, but the adventure continues. For now I am relaxing in Vienna.

One of the great things about Vienna, is it's close proximity to almost everything in Europe. A six day tour around the Alpes included a short stay in Turino, which was unexpectedly beautiful. And a trip through Mont Blanc to Geneva and back to Vienna. It's the wettest summer in 200 years in europe - so not fantastic photo material, but the food, wine and company have been wonderful.