Under the Southern Cross

It's getting difficult to write blog posts as the days resemble each other and a weekend means just higher pay rate. But some days are better than others for sure. Easter was very nice. Got heaps of chocolate eggs, bunnies and carrots. There was by local standards huge 3 days event called "Easter in the country", which featured rallies and markets and rodeo. Rodeo night was fun. A modern day cowboy tried to show me how to spot the Southern Cross and based on that how to determine direction of south. It took a few days and help of his father and a mobile app for me to finally figure it out. It's just surprisingly small that's all! Anyway, now I have a familiar constellation under this otherwise unfamiliar sky. And mind you, I see the stars a lot over here as in the last month it has been cloudy maybe 3 days and rained twice. When I'm walking home on the side of a highway after nightshift in my black uniform, the moon, the stars and oncoming 100+ tons roadtrains are the only things to give light. Roadtrains are pretty scary as they swoop on by, massive and impressive. Probably would be good idea to get some reflectors...
The other day I also briefly met a ghost inhabiting the room 315 of the hotel I'm working at. I was not hangover or anything like that, true story. I had just finished mopping, the last stage of the game in housekeeping,  and was about to close and lock the door when suddenly TV turned on. And no, I didnt step on the remote control. Startled, I went back in. I honestly stood in front of the TV for almost a minute to see if there is any specific message for me, but no, it was just some kids cartoon programme. I could not decipher the message from the spiritual world, turned the TV off and left the room.
Once a guest told me they found a letter in their room of someone saying she/he is offering a BJ... now thats another kind of message.

Differences

Roma main business street takes 10 minutes to walk up and down.  Unless you jump into The One Irish bar (not “one of the” Irish bars). Mind you, in total there are 5 places to go out. I have visited more than half of them. In one night.
People in Roma do not do “fantastic”, but “not too bad” instead. And the question is “How’r’ you going?”, not “How are you?”
Jogging clothes are replaced by blue collar overalls with reflectors on them. Not in bars though. In the bars it’s country folks’ clothes. I’m looking around and I see rednecks. And I feel narrow minded. I feel like this is not my kind of crowd. I’d like to be more open minded…but if yet again “I’m from Estonia” is greeted with a blank face, I feel a bit hopeless. Some ask flat out “Where is that?”, others disguise behind “You are long way from home!”.  Or a degree closer, but for personal reasons annoying: “It was/is part of Russia?”
When I got to Melbourne I felt it’s a bit like a candy shop full of gorgeous men.  Now, yesterday I was out in the Irish pub after work for a drink or two, glanced over the country folk and pondered over my selective mind. There was one man in the right age group and less folky look (turned out to be from Melbourne). In fact he was pretty good looking actually, but then came the usual blank face in response to “Estonia”. He is a soil digger in the mines or sth like that. Additionally, he was a three-sentences-in-a-minute type of chatter. When I asked how he likes living in Roma, he responded in the next minute: “Every forth week, that I have off, I feel like shooting myself in the head.”
15 seconds later “I feel like blowing my head off. This is how much I hate Roma”.
It wasn’t said in a funny way neither or it was humor beyond my grasp. When I insinuated that in this amount of time he should have been able to save enough money and move away, he got offended and stopped talking altogether – a relief for me as I had a much deeper and more interesting relation with the glass of whiskey in front of me.
What else can I say about Roma? There is a swimming pool and a library. Fresh subscription of magazines is only for Sports. National Geographic runs until 2009. The Economist or anything similar is not available even in the main shopping centre.
All this said, I’d like to add something positive. I’d like to emphasize that I do not feel like shooting myself in the head. I like the restaurant work. People that pass through there look interesting, working environment is good and it pays well. I’m happy to have my own room, a routine, read a book and get out every now and then. There are interesting people around here as well, I’m certain of it, just need to give it a bit of time.