Cycle of Learning. Anne Fitzpatrick
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Название: Cycle of Learning
Автор: Anne Fitzpatrick
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9781922198198
isbn:
Father Kulandai digested the hypothetical offer as quietly and serenely as he does most things. It didn’t take long though for him to come to a decision. “A trust fund. We need a trust fund for our senior students.”
Father Kulandai had it already thought out: with capital of the equivalent of $200,000, this amount could be invested in a long-term, secure bank account as a trust fund and the interest be used to help fund the secondary and tertiary students’ education. It would be an ongoing, sustainable and reliable way to fund an incredibly important investment in the communities of the Kodaikanal hills.
I had already done my calculations too, and informed him that I thought I could maybe raise a quarter of that – $50,000 – by riding around Australia and speaking to schools and community groups along the way. I admitted that I had an inherent aversion to fundraising, and knew my skills in marketing and publicising myself were wanting. However, I was so excited by the way that PEAK worked through education and activism, and felt such affection and admiration for the young people I met in their programs, that I felt, in a year, if I could talk to enough people, and share enough stories about PEAK and the people they worked with, $50,000 might show up.
The rest of my time in Kodaikanal was spent collecting the stories of young people in PEAK’s programs and gathering information from Father Kulandai and other members of the PEAK team. I returned to Australia with notebooks full of the interviews and facts and figures – and a small knot of responsibility in my stomach, now I’d made a promise to people and a cause that I had overwhelming amounts of respect for.
With a small group of friends who knew enough about the worlds of fundraising, development and communication, and enough about me and what I was and wasn’t capable of, some goals for the endeavour emerged. First, to raise money to help establish a trust fund for higher education for disadvantaged young people in the Kodaikanal hills. Second, to raise awareness with Australian students about the social issues faced by young people in India and the role that education can play in overcoming disadvantage. And lastly, to promote bike riding as a healthy and ecological means of transport.
Christine, the most dexterous with words of the group, christened the project “Cycle of Learning”. And with a name, the hard work began.
Chapter 1: See You If You Get Back
Adelaide – Murray Bridge – Tailem Bend – Meningie – Kingston – Southend – Mount Gambier – Dartmoor – Warrnambool – Colac – Geelong – Werribee – Melbourne
Totals: 1,148 kilometres – 63 hours 3 minutes – $1,139 raised
Wednesday 2 February 2005
Adelaide to Murray Bridge, South Australia
96 kilometres – 6 hours
As the digital display on my odometer clicked over to 45 km/h, I felt my bicycle trailer begin wobbling from left to right. The wobbles spread through the trailer, into the frame of the bike and then the handlebars. I tried to keep my centre of balance low as I battled to get control back. 48 km/h. Through the drizzle and the wet hair in my eyes, I took note of the sharp turn racing to meet me. 51 km/h. I flicked my eyes to the left to check how many inches I had between me and the embankment. 53 km/h. I willed my bike, still shaking and shuddering from side to side, closer to the edge to leave room for the car I heard approaching from behind.
Just as I was ducking under a rogue branch encroaching onto my limited part of the road, I had a vivid flash of recollection from a few weeks ago. I could clearly see the bright yellow sticker I’d peeled off the trailer, printed in an important-looking font: WARNING. DO NOT EXCEED 42 KM/H. I glanced down and saw my odometer click over to 56.
I gritted my teeth and tried to ease on the brakes, but let go as the wheels started skidding.
In the midst of my panic, one more useless memory resurrected itself: Susannah handing me a good-luck card as she left my send-off party. “See you next year. If you get back,” was her earnest farewell.
Dying on the first day of my bike ride would be so humiliating.
“So, she was riding her bike around Australia? How far had she travelled?” the investigating police would ask my parents.
“About 20 kilometres, Sergeant.”
“And was she adequately prepared, Mrs Fitzpatrick?”
“Well, she did do one practice ride last week. I had to pick her up though, after half an hour, when she got a puncture.”
The officer would add something to his notebook about possible genetic megalomania and incompetence, while the representative from the trailer company would pull my odometer from the wreckage. Through the cracked screen, the number 56 would still be visible. “It’s a bright yellow sticker. We use capitals AND italics. What more can we do?” the rep would mutter.
We survived though. All three of us – Bike, Trailer and I – made it to the bottom of the hill, shaken but intact. The rest of the day we stayed below the sacrosanct 42 km/h but I continued to have some leadership issues. Before starting my ride today, I had assumed that I would be the one in charge of this small, but – thanks to three metres of marine-quality tape – highly reflective crew. This was not proving to be the case. The entire ride to Murray Bridge was a series of wrestling bouts between the three of us. Generally, it was one on one, but at times, it turned into an all-in brawl with everyone wanting to go in conflicting directions and some of us sliding down embankments or lying down on the side of the road stubbornly refusing to get up.
Bike and Trailer do have the upper hand on me in that I’m not well informed when it comes to mechanical objects. Bike is a silver Shogun Metro-LX and people say he has good components. I generally respond with a nod and respectful look on my face to hide the fact I don’t know what “components” are. I have managed to attach bar-ends, a bell, rack and side mirror to him along with the reflective tape. The last thing I added was a kickstand. I was warned by bike-expert friends that this is not a hard-core accessory and will add unnecessary weight, but I love a bike that can stand up for itself. After commenting on Bike’s components, people turn to Trailer and ask if he is made of aluminium, which leads me to suspect that he is. He has a single wheel at the rear and a tall yellow flag, which I am hoping will prevent us from getting squashed by a truck.
Trundling into Murray Bridge at 7 pm tonight, I couldn’t be happier. A damp and wobbly 96 kilometres through the Adelaide hills was a welcome change from wading through administrative preparations for this solo, fundraising bike-ride around Australia. I’ve still got some logistical issues to deal with, namely, a lack of outdoor expertise, a daunting fundraising target, and a deep-set aversion to asking people for anything, but I’ve started. 96 kilometres down. 20,000 to go.
Saturday 5 February
Meningie to Kingston, South Australia
150 kilometres – 9 hours 3 minutes
Having an emu trot past me while gliding along a sunny, empty highway felt like a suitable birthday present today. While I’m feeling rather sore as I get used to the physical demands of my new lifestyle, the freedom of the open roads is wonderful compensation. Cycling provides just the right speed, lack of engine noise and wealth of sensory input to enjoy the landscape in a way that is unique to this mode of transport. Some of the sensory input, such as the smell of roadkill, requires extra commitment СКАЧАТЬ