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| Asuka and Yuko at the Korean Restaurant |
April 21st, 2015
My alarm went off to remind me to call my parents, which went well. We talked for an hour and. Though I had said I wouldn’t go back to sleep, I did so anyway. I got out of bed at 12ish when Asuka [Ask-uh] called to invite me on their trip to Busselton Jetty - this was not easy to decipher half-asleep on the phone with a thick Japanese accent. I had yet to really bother the hell out of the local shops for a job, or set up my bank account. The ol' wallet is starting to get light (and tattered), so I declined their offer (2.5 hour drive either way) to do the
responsible thing.
Dun dun dun.
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Typical Light Switch with
a speed dial for the fan |
Bank account having been set up, I went all around Northbridge approaching any manager and/or service person of every place I passed which might have the slightest interest in my skill set. I chatted with some randoms around town, and had one of the most boring conversations with an American girl who really could not be bothered to care about anything at all. I mean, seriously, her eyes were half shut when I walked up to her and just stayed there the entire time. Movies, politics, music, animal cruelty (Frenchman burning a
Quokka), or even what she was studying. The only reason she even chose to study what she did was because it was
easy. The upswing of the day was that I got leads on two potential jobs, one with a coffee roaster (they gave me the grand tour, history, tax advice, and great coffee), and a restaurant/bar/game cafe. The second said they would bring me in for a trial run on the weekend, though I’m pretty sure I’ve got it. Fingers crossed!
I arrived back at the hostel to do some work on my laptop, including this write-up, when Asuka and Yuko invited me to Kings park. I’ve been there, and I'm beat from hitting the bricks. Laptop work won the battle over making my way all the way to the park, alone, at night.
After following up on the leads from earlier (namely the two contacts from the roasting place), I met up with Korean Yang Suni [Yang-zun], Japanese Yuko, and Japanese Asuka at a nearby Korean food place. Apparently Yuko and Asuka still hadn’t moved out just yet; this was their last meal before they both left the hostel. We discussed whatever we could with their broken english, and Yang Suni ordered for me at my request. We were all pleased with the food, and I provided a good laugh to the girls by remembering a few dirty word they taught me in Japanese from the night before (I know more Japanese than Italian at this point (Don't be impressed, I know 5 words in Italian)).
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| Yang Suni and I at the Korean Restaurant |
Jump back to reality, err, the hostel: Surprise! I have no room. It turns out that when I had renewed my room for another week, it wasn't put it in properly. The computer said that I was supposed to move out
today at 11am (it was around 8pm now). I showed them the credit card charge, and they threw me back into the 8 person room like the dog that I am (6 french, 1 kiwi, 1 Korean girl, and me). I haphazardly packed up my stuff and stacked it in what little space was left on the room's floor. If my Dad were to describe the state of the 8 person room, it would go something like this: "It looks like a
bomb went off in here!" I had a good talk with the first person I met at the hostel - the frenchman who explained the wifi and directed me to the shower/toilet. His name is Vincent, he’s dating the Korean girl, Cassie, and they’re going to
(This is wrong, but I can't remember where) Vietnam. Their common language is english, so he’s quite good. Kiwi Haydon joined us, as this is also his room, and we talked about light switches. I guess I never mentioned that they are different here.
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| Street Art |
It’s one of the frenchman’s birthdays, and the thought of them puking on my luggage just crossed my mind. Hm. They had the dollar store-type assortments that people typically have at a child’s birthday, and made water balloons. General fanfare and bad singing with a french accent could be heard from my room during the previously mentioned conversation. Vincent said that the anglophone accent in french is actually appealing, which was news to me. I am now writing this in the central common area while some of the french have left for the club. Stoned Italians mill about with what’s left of the French crew, laughing and doing silly, strange things. Soon, there will be the usual dance with the devil, and passing out in a room of 8 mouth breathing, snoring, farting men (and one small Korean girl). Yes, that includes me.
Note: For those who noticed there are actually 9 people in the room, 1 of them isn’t supposed to be there. He is sleeping in the bed that's meant for Cassie while she shares the bed with Vincent. The staff seem unaware thus far, though maybe they're turning a blind eye.
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