Blogjune begins... In London

So, once again, June is here, and it is time to embark of that foolish endeavour known as BlogJune, where I blog every day of the month.

Fortunately, I have recently started travelling, and so I hope I'll have interesting things to blog about. So, without further adieu:

Ten things that cross one's mind when going to London for the first time.

1. ZOMG I'M IN LONDON!!!!!!!!1!!!!111!!!

2. How do I get out of Heathrow airport?

3. Surely ten pounds on my Oyster Card will be enough for the week.

4. Do they really need to warn us about The Gap so many times? It probably wouldn't have even been an issue if they hadn't mention it, but now I'm a little paranoid that I'll suddenly fall into it.

5. Distances look a lot smaller on the map - and it is a rather long distance from Buckingham Palace to London Bridge.

6. Considering that they wrote a song about London Bridge, it's really quite boring.

7. They should have written a song about Tower Bridge instead.

Not London Bridge. Not falling down either.

8. Everything feels so familiar, since I've read so many stories about London throughout my life. Being here in the flesh is just surreal.

9. The night bus is awesome and convenient. I also understand where JK Rowling got the inspiration for the crazy driving.

10. 24 hours is not nearly enough time to take it all in - I'll have to come back for a few days next week... :)

Deciphering my work for future reference...

Before I took my first post overseas, I thought I had a good idea of what to expect in a health library in rural PNG. In some ways, i.e. with technological limitations, I was on the right path, but I was mostly wrong. Sure, the position description was accurate, but the way I perceived the duties, as written on paper, differed substantially before than afterwards.

Similarly, after one assignment, when I signed up for my next one, I thought I was much better equipped, having already spent time in PNG. Nope. Despite having had some experience, if anything, these skewed my expectations in the wrong direction.

Vietnam was the same - firstly working for a government agency, and then working with an NGO.

And, again, with my current work in Kosovo, my expectations were completely off, despite having read my Terms of Reference and asked clarifying questions about my duties. I would have been best off leaving any preconceived notions and expectations at the door.

But now I look back at my resume. I've laid out my duties, highlighted my achievements, but I wonder - is anybody working in the "developed" Western world who reads it going to really understand the nature of my work? We can tally everything up, and quantify our achievements, but the reality is that the challenges existing in one workplace / sector / society are going to be vastly different to the next.

And, in many ways, it's not the extent to which we achieve quantifiable results that demonstrates our professional value, but the extent to which we can overcome barriers that impede achievement.

If only there were a succinct way to demonstrate this on a 2-3 page resume...

Visiting the Vijećnica

In my recent Balkan travels, I was able to spend a couple of days in Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina. This is a beautiful city, and when I arrived, it was surrounded by snow-covered hills, and characterised by a blend of Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman and Yugoslav architecture. Walking around the city, it is still very conscious of its tragic history - to some small extent, with the assassination of Franz Ferdinand and his wife in 1914, but more prominently with the Siege of Sarajevo during the Bosnian war from 1992 to 1995.

One of the most significant buildings in Sarajevo is the Vijećnica (City Hall), built between 1892 and 1894 during the Austro-Hungarian occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and opened in 1896.

In 1949, it became the National and University Library of Bosnia and Herzegovina, eventually holding over 1.5 million volumes, with over 700 rare books and manuscripts spanning over five centuries of Bosnian culture.

On 25 August 1992, firebombing of the besieged city resulted in substantial destruction of the library and its collections, as it burned for three days in a seemingly targeted attack, as adjacent buildings remained undamaged.

To me, this is reminiscent of when I first heard of the burning and looting of the Iraq National Library and Archives, and the willful destruction of such priceless cultural heritage collections is deplorable. Report tell of of librarians and volunteers braving sniper fire to form a human chain, rescuing books, whilst under constant sniper fire. Aida Buturovi, one of the National Library's librarians, was killed by a sniper in the process.

Almost 15 years later, with the support from the international community, the building has been rebuilt and refurbished, and is now a national monument. For a small entrance fee, I was able to go inside and have a look around. At present, the space is mostly empty, as the refurbishment has only recently been completed. There was an photographic exhibition showing the state of the building after the bombing, and the work in restoring the building is remarkable.

Some of the interior detail

I look forward to one day revisiting the Vijećnica again, when it returns to its former glory as a functioning city hall and library.

Vijećnica in its restored state

In-between Daze

On Friday, Oz YA expert extraordinaire Emily Gale delivered a choice tweet on the nature of YA literature:

Ultimately YA is doing what it should: merges into Children's at one end and into Adult at the other, with all kinds of amazing in between.

— EmilyGale (@EmilyGale) April 1, 2016

It's a quote that's stuck with me the last couple of days - the all kinds of amazing in between. However, whilst I have plenty of fond memories of being a teenager, it was also relatively ordinary. I never had any of the wonderful romances, or life-affirming epiphanies, that we so-often get in Young Adult literature. My teenage years were a haze of awkward confusion, buried in school work and musical projects whilst desperately trying to connect with (or at least make sense of) the outside world through Bulletin Board Systems (long before the internet was a thing). But I knew that this was a transitory phase - the necessary hoops that I needed to jump through until I moved into the world of Being an Adult.

The pieces didn't really start to connect until I was at university. I started making connections, whether they were the bookish / gamer types in the student lounge, the chain-smoking philosophy student clique on the student bar balcony, the theatre crowd in rehearsals, or the intervarsity choral community. This *was* all kinds of amazing... but still a transitory phase - one that I took a while to move on from. I made many many awesome friends, but one-by-one, they all moved on into the world of Being an Adult.

And so did I... or at least, I thought I did. I learned that an Undergraduate Degree alone would only get you so far in life, and so I started working on my Masters in Librarianship. I got an entry-level library officer job, and started getting the hang of the industry. I bought furniture, a fridge, and rented my own apartment. But as much as I'd like to think I had finally passed the threshold into Being an Adult, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was still somewhere In-between, and that I wouldn't be there, until I finished my professional qualification, and established myself as a Real Professional.

And so, I graduated - again - and got myself a Real Professional job. Except that I had to move to the other side of Australia for it. Being a New Graduate professional - a status that apparently lasts for ten years (I have six months left!) - I spent the next 3-4 years learning the fundamentals of professional practice across academic, public, research, parliamentary and high school libraries. Again, another transitional phase of my life, where I was solidly focused on trying to work out exactly where I fit into my professional sector. I figured that, once I'd worked that out, I could land my dream job, and I'd be set for the rest of my career.

And although I mostly figured out exactly where my areas of specialty were, the right job never came along. I was desperately unsatisfied with much of my work, and so when the opportunity arose to accompany my then-girlfriend to Japan for a year, I figured that it would be a great chance to clear my head. And it really was. As a 32 year-old who had hardly travelled overseas, my horizons opened up - both literally and figuratively. I saw a whole new world waiting to be explored and it was definitely all kinds of amazing. My career and Being an Adult could definitely wait!

And then, sometime after returning to Australia in 2012, writing a cabaret/comedy show about the End of the World, which I performed in Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide, and going on a month-long swing-dancing trip around South-East Asia, I found myself working on Library / Information Management assignments in the International Development sector.

I don't know if it's possible to feel any more transient or in-between as I do, living the ex-pat life. We're all foreigners, we're all temporary, and more often than not, I question whether I really should be imposing my own professional values and standards, regardless of whether they are welcomed or not. I certainly don't belong here. And yes, it's still all kinds of amazing. But I'm still in-between.

I think of all the things that one associates with succeeding at Being an Adult: being independent, professionally accomplished and fulfilled, financially secure, being settled in one's community, owning one's own property, having a family - or at least a lifelong partner, and just generally knowing who you are, where you belong, and what you should be doing with your life.

To be honest, I'm not there yet, and it does worry me. I'm turning 38 this year, and I still don't feel like I've properly grown up. Maybe that's part of the reason that I still love YA fiction - in a strange way, it's still relevant to my life. Maybe I just fail at Being an Adult. Or maybe it's all overrated, and I should just embrace the all kinds of amazing in-between as being a life-long state of transience.

Libraries - because books.

So, today the ALIA NGAC hosted its semi-regular twitter discussion, using the aptly-name hashtag #AusLibChat. I find that these online discussions are a great way of checking back in with the Australian library industry, and seeing what the major issues are.

One particular conversation thread caught my attention, was sparked by the question:

I'm curious - how many of us chose LIS "because books"? I've seen a few say that. Even if it's much more that makes them stay. #auslibchat

— Steven Chang (@StevenPChang) March 1, 2016

 The discussion moderator responded with:

@StevenPChang Great question! I've heard library school educators say "if you came for the books, you're in the wrong place" #auslibchat

— ALIA NGAC (@aliangac) March 1, 2016

And thus ensued the predictable, "Libraries aren't about books anymore - they're about technology, community, sharing, creating, etc..." discourse that we're all familiar with in this day and age.

It's something that I've seen happen more and more - a trend amongst librarians to actively distance themselves from the association with books and literature, and fight the familiar brand of the library as being a place for books and reading.

Now, of course, I should mention that there are many many librarians and information professionals in the industry who do not work with books. I myself do not work with books in my current employment, and it's been a valuable exercise in understanding and serving the information needs of a large organisation. It's certainly professional work, and a core part of the industry in this day and age.

However...

I would argue that if your main reason for becoming a librarian is "because books", then it's still definitely possible to have an professional and enriching career as a librarian. There are still plenty of libraries out there where books and reader development is still their primary bread and butter. There is also sufficient evidence to indicate that many people are still reading regularly and widely, and that libraries play an essential role in facilitating this in the community.

And guess what? It's the librarians in this libraries that are connecting people with books and each other. They find the right book for the right person that will stimulate and engage them, and then develop community programs through which readers can share their experiences of reading with others. Yes, they also utilise skills with technology, because that's an integral part of society. But technology is a means to an end, and it doesn't matter whether it's an e-book, digital audio book, multimedia storytelling, or a good old fashioned dead tree paper book. Call it what you like, but it essentially boils down to the same thing.

Librarians do it damn well! We should own it and stand proud. Or not - be a different kind of librarian - but certainly don't deny the professional contribution that the "because books" librarians have to offer to the world.

Wishing for success...

A year ago, I was living in Hanoi, not far from the Temple of Literature. Around the Lunar New Year, people visit this almost-millennium-old site, to have their wishes painted in the temple by calligraphy artists in traditional characters. These characters might symbolise love, luck, health, wealth, or even excellent results for final exams.

This was mine.

What did I wish for? Success. Whether it was out of entitled arrogance, frustration, desperation or just because that's what we're conditioned to strive for, this was my wish.

A year has since passed, and as we welcome in the Year of the Monkey, I look back on the last year, with my wish hanging on the wall, and I wonder... what brings success? Is it purely hard work? Is it the right attitude? A willingness to say yes to opportunities? Resilience to stick it out and do "the hard yards"? Is it the wisdom to work smarter, not harder? Or does it come to pure luck?

I believe that luck plays a huge part in success. Many people are successful due to factors beyond their control - being born in a prosperous country, to a supportive family, with a strong education, affording certain privileges, and so on. And there are social influences - the people who we meet and connect with through our lives - who either support or discourage us on our paths.

Over the past few months, I've been mildly obsessed with Manuel Lin-Miranda's work of lyrical genius, Hamilton - a contemporary musical retelling of one of the US's lesser-known founding fathers. The two central characters, Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, are both ambitious for success and greatness. But whilst Hamilton is cavalier, hot-headed, and exhibits no restraint, determined not to blow his shot, Burr is sensible, pragmatic and willing to wait for it.

Ultimately, Hamilton comes to an early demise, whilst Burr lives a long life but is largely forgotten - except as the villain of this history.

It's a simple dichotomy, but it's one that I've always felt torn between - whether to take a chance, and leap forward at every opportunity, despite the risk, or to stay put, and hope to have my loyalty rewarded by having been around the longest, sticking it out through thick and thin. Either approach has its merits and risks. Sometimes you happen to be at the right place at the right time, and sometimes your hard work pays off. Usually it's a combination of both.

So, a year later, did I get my wish? I don't feel like I'm failing, so perhaps this past year has set me on the path to success. Or perhaps it's just helped provide me with the wisdom to stop wishing for such things, and just be mindful of what is in front of me, and the choices I have. After all, I am the one thing in life I can control.

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

From the day that I first arrived in Vietnam as a development worker, I was regularly asked the same questions. Firstly, “Do you have a family back in Australia?” then, “Do you have a wife?”. When I’d reply in the negative for both, they’d ask, “Well, do you have a girlfriend?” and I’d shake my head, and they’d give me that pitying look - like it was the saddest thing in the world.

Truth be told, the day that I left Australia for Vietnam, I’d been on the receiving end of a “surprise breakup”, so every time I responded to this question it felt like another turn of the knife in a broken heart. However, for my female friends in the development sector, it was all the more tragic in the eyes of some locals - the sad tale of the “christmas cake” who was no longer desirable after the 25th.

Of course, this was simply a cultural difference, and for most 25+ year-olds from Australia, being single and working abroad is no big deal. There’s always time to meet a partner and settle back at home later on, and who really needs to start a family before they’re 35, really? But for now, we’re at the prime of our lives, emerging in our professional careers, and taking the opportunity to work at strange and exciting places around the world, right?

But the longer I’ve been working overseas in the development sector, the more I’ve started to notice patterns. New arrivals who had recently gone through breakups. Couples in long-distance relationships - many which didn’t last, and those that made it, did so only by the skin of their teeth and not without their share of emotional angst. And of the older expats, many are either divorcees, or seemingly permanently single - having, by their own admission, decided that they’d worked too hard on their career for too many years to jeopardise it all for a relationship or family.

That said, there are certainly success stories - the couples who managed to figure out a way to find work for both people in the same location, or where one person has put their career on hold for the other as a supportive partner. But they’re certainly in the minority.

Here’s the thing. I tell myself I’m here for the work, not romance. In terms of dating locals, I’m already hyper-aware of my ex-pat privilege, and wouldn’t be comfortable in a hugely unbalanced power relationship, let alone cultural differences and associated expectations. I mean, I’m already weird enough by Western standards, with my eccentric habits like singing, swing dancing, and reading. On the other hand, the ex-pat bubble is a small world, and most people there are on their own career path which would diverge from mine sooner than later. Given my own emotional baggage in this department, it’s not really a viable option. If I were ten years younger, it would probably be a different story, but at my age I know what I want, and what I don't want, and it limits my options.

And so, with the new year being a time for reflection on the past and future, I wonder if there’s any reasonable expectation to fill this gap in my life in the development sector. I believe it’s unhealthy to go too long without any intimacy and genuine human connection, and I feel like the decision to come into this line of work, with all its amazing opportunities, has also deprived me of some of the most important aspects of being alive. And at the same time I feel like it would be the lamest of reasons to leave and move back to Australia.

For now, I remain optimistic that I can have it all. I’m loving the opportunities to do new things and see new places. But when I look around, I also see my fair share of lonely people who chose this life, and now they’re seemingly stuck with it. I do not want to end up there.

Incidentally - the earworm that I’ve been stuck with all evening…

My shadow’s the only one who walks beside me.
My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating.
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me.
’Til then, I walk alone.

It seems apt.