Intercultural Collaborations - Josh Peterken

It's the first week of September 2017. Melbourne is alive with excitement. Melbourne's little brother, Adelaide, a ten hour drive away, buzzes with their own two-team rivalry. It's four weeks until the AFL Grand Final and the future is filled with possibilities. There are 36 possible combinations for that last week of glory, and everybody holds their breath. To the outsider, it seems barbaric. Most outside of Australia have never even heard of the Australian Football League, and those who do struggle to comprehend the size of it. Even many people in Australia don't understand it. How can one gain so much joy from a ball being kicked between two big sticks? Week one comes and goes in the blink of an eye. Just like that, two of the eight teams are eliminated. Essendon and Port Adelaide fans prepare for the long summer ahead. Many of them go through a grieving process, for a year that has been wasted. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. They console each o...

I have always thought of Hong Kong as part of China. I was somewhat surprised to hear that people in Hong Kong, however, do not consider themselves as such. Later, I also discovered that while this is true, many of them do consider themselves to be Chinese. This distinction between whether Hong Kong is part of China or not is so great that it has led to one of the most common examples of the Mandela Effect. For anyone unfamiliar, the Mandela Effect is a phenomenon of collective false memories, named for many people believing that Nelson Mandela died in prison in the 1980s, even though he went on to become the President of South Africa a decade later and only died five years ago. It is common for people to believe beyond doubt that Hong Kong is a separate country, becoming independent in 1997 when in actual fact sovereignty was handed over from the United Kingdom back to China. In light of the fact that the people who live there do not consider themselves as part of China, I suppose thi...

“It’s nice to spend time together like this.” Her words rolled toward me, but I barely registered them. The sand in Barcelona was so warm, so soft. Growing up, we never got to see the ocean. How many times had Tess and I been to a beach together? I could probably count it on one hand. “Jacquie, are you even listening to me?” “Mhmm,” I said, the slight sound coming right back to my ears in the ocean wind. “You’re not, are you?” “Sorry,” I said, “just thinking.” “About?” “Doesn’t matter.” She wouldn’t understand. Tess wasn’t one for the introspective.   After three days enjoying the beach warmth, the feeling of business was finally beginning to fade. Even on the plane over, a paranoia hung over me that I should be doing something. Household jobs, dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, taking a shift that I knew I couldn’t handle. God, when was the last time I’d watched a movie just because I wanted to? “I should call mum, check up on Sarah.” “Jacquie,” Tess sai...