SO THIS IS NIGER

The Magic of a Royal Show

I usually feel uneasy in a massive crowd, but not at this year’s Royal Show.

It is a laid-back crowd, not the kind that elbows its way into the pavilions or treads on you in the rush to strap themselves into extreme apparatus’ that spin you in three different directions at the same time.

I am particularly aware of the relaxed Australian atmosphere in the agricultural part of the show grounds, for I am with my daughter Helen and I know from her smile that she is enjoying our excursion as I do.

It is lovely to wander around with Helen. She is as enthusiastic as I am to explore this year’s exhibits of the Royal Agricultural Society of Western Australia. The first "Fair and Cattle Show” was held in Perth 172 years ago. Yet, the yearly show retains its fascination for us city folks. Sitting amongst a crowd of country folks we watch the judging of breeding bulls, stock horses, sheep, goats, pigs and poultry. Between us we are betting on the animals that should win a blue ribbon, and sometimes we are even right.

In a beautifully restored Art Deco Building there are fabulous exhibits of local products from the Gascoyne, the Goldfields, Kimberley, the Pilbara and the Wheat Belt. Here there are Boab root vegetables and pies to taste; at the next stand you can touch different kinds of sheep’s wool. At another showcase we learn about the best localities for this year’s wildflower season. The Pilbara pavilion is especially engaging with its collection of aboriginal artifacts and sparkling minerals.

At the Department of Calm Land Experience we have a chat with an Aboriginal couple who show us ‘Whities’ how you can live off the country; we learn how to handle an injured black cockatoo, and at another Pavilion we learn some more about horticulture and viticulture. 

At one of the Show bag outlets Helen gets lost in the fascinating variety of show bags on sale. Ever since she was a teenager we had tiffs about those darn things that cost a small fortune and are filled with mostly rubbish and junk food. Nonetheless, even at 22 Helen considers to buy one that contains glow bangles, tattoo arm bands, and light-up angel wings.

The show bag cost a whopping 20 Dollars. “I am only getting paid tomorrow”, she moans and looks at me in that kind of sideways look.” By now, it is already well past lunchtime and we are feeling hunger pangs. So, to soften Helen’s disappointment I am treating her and myself to a ghastly sausage on a stick and a roast beef roll respectively and two cans of coke. Helen chooses a zero calories’ one, but I definitely need a sugar fix to refill my batteries.

We sit down amongst spectators on the steps of the main arena, munching our junk food. In the central arena a sheep dog is driving three stupid sheep into a pen and at the far end we can see the equestrians getting ready for their next event.

Our next stop – and that is an absolute ‘must do thingy’ for us - is the Wood Chop Competition; the “275mm Standing Block Australian Championship”, to be precise. We watch with admiration how muscular axe men chop within seconds their way through massive wooden blocks. The competition is fierce.

Near the huge Ferris wheel the crowd grows with the late afternoon, gathering to test their nerves with the ever famous Mega Drop, which propels you 40 meters in the air and then drops you 40 meters in seconds.

I almost turn green with terror at thought of my stomach being turned inside out, and Helen gives me an amused look. I hastily pull Helen past the “Splash Down”, the Python Loop, the Rage, the Wave Swinger, the Graviton and the Sizzler.

“At least we should take a ride on the Ferris wheel before we go home, mum”, Helen says. “It’s actually better to do that at night during the fireworks, but the views over the city are spectacular too. You are going to like it, Mum, she says. “Just don’t look down, and you’re going to be alright.”

And amazingly – the gentle ride on the wheel just turned out fine.
 
 

Posted by: Lewana at October 17, 2006 00:43 | link | comments (9)
australia, travel, western australia, perth, the magic of a royal show

Sunday Afternoon

Sometimes a picture may say more than a thousand words.....

Posted by: Lewana at October 08, 2006 19:27 | link | comments (3)
australia

Pakistani Hell

Someone asked me the other day whether I would take a detour to Karachi on my way to Burundi. Come to think of it, no...”

And here is why:

 A German girl died and went to hell.

On arrival she learns that there is a different hell for each nationality on earth, but to her joy she finds that she would have a choice to pick her own hell. Having been a globetrotter for all of her life, she decides to shop around and pick the least painful one.

Her first choice, of course, is the German hell. She knocks on the door and asks the guy at the gate, "What do they do here?"
The janitor, dressed in a neatly pressed uniform  says: "First, you’ll have to sit in an electric chair for an hour.
Then you’ll be tied to a bed of nails for another hour. After that, the German devils come round and whip you for the rest of the day".
The girl does not like the sound of that at all, so she moves on.

She checks out the American hell, the Russian, the British, the Australian and a few others too.
To her utter despair she discovers that all the punishments are similar to the German hell.

At last she comes to the Pakistani hell. A chaotic crowd of people is elbowing their way into the Pakistani hell. “Bingo, she says, this can’t be too bad."

But, to be absolutely sure, she asks the chowkiddar, who is lounging at the gate: “Why, chowkiddar, what’s the deal in the Pakistani hell? Why is everyone so keen on picking this one?”

The chowkidar, scratching his balls absentmindedly, replies: “Mem, your first punishment will be the electric chair. Then you'll have to lie on a bed of nails for another hour.
And then the Pakistani devils come in and whips you for the rest of the day.”

"But that is exactly the same as all the other hells. Why are there so many people pushing to get in, then?" she asks.

"Mem”, smirks the Pakistani chowkiddar, you know, in the Pakistani hell there is never any electricity, so the electric chair does not work....

The nails were paid for but never supplied, so the bed is not too uncomfortable....

And, on top of it, the Pakistani devils used to be a civil servants, so they come in, sign their time sheet and go back home for private business....."

Posted by: Lewana at October 05, 2006 22:55 | link | comments (3)
humour, pakistan