Meandering in Melbourne: From Competition to Camaraderie
AUSTRALIA
The birdie hit the floor - nearly. It was like watching it in slow motion, until he flicked his wrist at the perfect time and place, then in a split second, the birdie snapped back into steep ascent, and the rally for the finals continued. I came to Melbourne to watch National games, a bit of a reprieve with some community service buffering the stay. I’m fortunate to also be able to volunteer on these trips, built in to try to strike a balance between give and galivant.
The quality of the matches wasn’t as nail-biting as I was looking forward to, but the sportsmanship was heartwarming. Opposing teams would give a small clap or a tip of the head, a nod or a wink for pristine plays, even if that meant they lost the point.
In a world so competitive, I wondered about if and how we display sportsmanship in how we work, live and play. How do we approach, interact with and narrate our ‘opponents’? Like the badminton match in front of me, are we cognizant and gracious with one another - knowing that at the end of the day, this is just part of the Big Game?
I mulled over how this display of camaraderie could completely complement our secular lives. If we approached work like we really were on the same team, how might we feel in the daily execution of our jobs and even, more holistically at the Day’s end I thought. Surely sports and the ideal etiquette therein affords some pearls for us.
They were contending as the underdogs. Sitting on the sidelines, as I watched, I picked away at sheets of croissant, acknowledging with a slight glee as flakes fell off and landed in the brown bag - only momentarily of course - until I scooped those up too and licked them into the escalator that was bound for my belly. I sometimes wonder how humans start certain traditions, rituals, recipes, sports. Like who imagined Padel, a blend of tennis and squash, or combining tomatoes and sugar for ketchup, or coming of age milestones? Indeed, there is a creative and (hopefully ever) conscious seed in us all.
I gulp down the smoothness of the warm milky concoction, savouring the creaminess of the flat white on my palate, a sip that superbly compliments my previous bite of pastry. Renowned for their coffee, Aussies sure know how to make a good cuppa.
I’m reminded of my longer trip last time, a three month expedition to ANZ: Connabarabran, Sydney, Melbourne (and obvi, the 12 Apostles and Great Ocean Road), Tasmania, Perth, Rottnest Island along with smaller Aboriginal communities in the Eastern Goldfields of Western Australia. I also spent time in the North and South islands in New Zealand, learning the ways of the Maori in Whakatane and the East Cape. Those were privileged experiences to explore the ongoing impact of colonization on health outcomes of the Indigenous peoples. In addition to my medical work there, I was fortunate to also dabble in sports and play too.
I sailed on land with blokarts, found natural hot springs, hiked infamous trails, learned how to gather my meals from home gardens, ran groups for youth and women’s empowerment, went sailing, diving, snorkeling and skydiving over the Remarkables - oh, and this is where my love for fancy cheeses began. Not to mention, I ate lizard and kangaroo for the first time.
The former was cooked in coals underground and much to my surprise, served to me for breakfast (yup, with toast). How could I say no to a local delicacy like that first thing in the morning …
It was with these memories that I returned back to Melbourne. This time, my hotel was near an Asian district. Arriving in from Vanuatu’s capital where I perused Port Vila, the choice on these two streets alone seemed like it could easily overwhelm the options of that entire country. I dabbled. First, I had street Thai - fiery spicy noodles with chicken, flavour bursting though my pores. Another time I tried the Malaysian Nasi Goreng with seafood, enough to feed me for a few days. My favourite though was the chicken dumpling and noodle soup, an apt combo with my audiobook and the outside drizzle.
The weather hasn’t held up here adding to the toll of weeks of ongoing showers and cyclones, but connections new and old have made the time gratifying. I ask her how she feels as she drops me to my hotel. “Ah the win? It feels a bit surreal, I’m just relieved it’s over because everyone had hyped them up so much”. Numa’s cheerful and gracious disposition makes for an easy connection. Her badminton finals win seems more so about the mental game and the journey, rather than the victory itself.
How do we talk to ourselves in these high pressure moments? I’ve been fortunate to have a relatively chirpy cheerleader though I wondered how to make that inner voice of mine a bit more gentle and wise - how’s yours?
Outside of the company in my head, a little later I meet up with the lovely ladies I’d met during the games. It amazes me how instant connection can be, and through that, how (if we allow), we can share some really authentic and vulnerable pieces of ourselves. I wonder if this was because of the transience, knowing that soon we’d have oceans between us so why not share with near strangers while you can, a bit of offloading perhaps.
Or, is it that when there’s a click, connection can burrow down through your layers, lucidly letting you let out which story or strife is safest to share?
Either way, for these moments in Melbourne, I’m grateful for these gals, the games and my little gig that let me give.
May we be able to enjoy good cuppas and multi-layered convos that cement connections (be they temporary or time agnostic),
Oh how I envy you!! Stay safe and make the most of your adventure.