That Speech: Obama in the House!

“How much time did you get with him?”

The message was insistent.

“Oh I duno, maybe 10 seconds? Five?"

“Take me through every single second…"

I grinned, cast my mind back to the brief moment of the handshake and let my thumbs fly...

#obama

A photo posted by Yassmin Abdel-Magied (@yassmin_a) on Nov 11, 2014 at 7:13pm PST

The News

 ...the coolest kid/leader in town - President Barack Obama - was coming to visit my alma mater was everywhere.  Fan girls and boys extolled their excitement with exclamation marks and witty status updates, an exuberance tempered only by the ire of the UQ (University of Queensland) students who realised that ‘day kids’ (students who didn’t stay at college) wouldn’t get a chance to attend. Understandably, it was an unpopular decision, to say the least.  The news that only 40 or so students from every residential college was able to secure one of the sought after tickets rubbed a lot of people up the wrong way.

I have it on good authority that it was the University’s decision, and may have been due to the fact that they had to get RSVPs and confirmations with only a few days notice. The US Consulate/White House (as far as I have been led to believe) was keen to get as wide a demographic as possible but left it in the hands of the Universities and schools.  Make of that what you will...

I was fortunate to snare a spot in the crowd, thank you US Consulate!  Awkwardly though, I didn’t realise the tickets had to be picked up a couple of days before the event (at UQ!) until I was called up by the staff on the collection day!  Sitting in my office in Perth, I scrambled to get a family member to pick up the invite for me. Predictably, no-one in my family picked up the phone! A friend came to my rescue and operation “Ticket Collection” was a success. (Shout out to my saviour Romy!)

I arrived in Brisbane on the morning of the event, rushing home from the airport with my little brother at the wheel and hurriedly deciding what to wear. It had to be comfortable, I thought, in order to be able to handle the incredibly sticky Brisbane heat.  Not too crazy I told myself, but also with just enough ‘Yassmin-ness’ (read: flamboyance) to be appropriate.  Smart Casual, the invite said, but since when did anyone pay attention to what the invite says? I went high waisted pants (*cough* cue *cough) and killer high heels (modest, of course!), so that I wasn’t just tall but towering. Ha, nothing like height to demand presence right?

Securing the Seat

Doors opened at 10.45am: I strolled in and secured a spot three rows from the front.  I hadn't realised the President wasn't arriving for hours, so couldn't understand why the place wasn't immediately full.  As I looked quizzically around the center, the guy next to me explained:

"Well, this is what happens when you rock up two hours early..."

Ah, indeed.  Fortunately though, there was plenty of entertainment. 

Politics of the young people in the crowd aside, the invite list was fascinating.  Once the room began to fill up, there were a few hundred students in the risers complemented by hundreds of the men and women who help shape Australia.  In the far right hand corner of the room sat the ‘heavy hitters’, and boy were there a few! Ex-Governor Generals, Premiers, former Premiers, business men and women and stalwarts of the Australian political scene.  Wayne Swan, Qunnie Bryce, John Story, Sam Walsh, Bronwyn Bishop, Colin Barnett, Campbell Newman and Tanya Plibersek to name a few. It was daunting, but honestly? An awesome opportunity to make some new friends, I thought.  The worst part was not recognising someone I really should have, particularly when they clearly think you know how important they are (sorry Colin Barnett).  Something I am working on…

 Funnily enough, one such 'High Net Worth Individual' commented on the number of heavy hitters in the room.

“The thing is,” he said. “I am not sure they are used to being made to wait!" …and yes, waiting is what they were doing.

Doors opened at 10.45am, but the President didn’t make his entrance until after 1pm. That is a lot of time for someone who deems their time critically important, but alas, if not for Obama, then who for?

The Entrance

The Vice Chancellor of UQ stood up to make a speech.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity... but I'm going to get off this stage because I know no-one is interested in what I have to say! I'm like the warm up act for the Rolling Stones!"

People chuckled, but it was true. There was a buzz in the air. Everyone was excited to be there, and even the loftiest figures a little bit groupie-like.  The background music would occasionally fade out between songs, and every time there was a moment of silence, the room would instantly hush in anticipation.  This is the moment, we were all be thinking, and then a note of the next song would ring out and the building erupt in (slightly nervous) laughter.  The tension was palpable...

Then, the moment we had all been waiting for.

A booming voice over the loud speaker: "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the President of the United States of America..." The rest of the statement was drowned out as everyone leapt to their feet, cameras in hand, half cheering, half taking selfies.  It was a little bit hilarious...

(Obviously, I was not immune. Here is my video of the entrance...)

The announcement of #Obama # universityofqueensland   A video posted by Yassmin Abdel-Magied (@yassmin_a) on Nov 11, 2014 at 5:05am PST

The Big O

I am not a massive fan of Obama's policies, and anyone who has had a discussion with me knows my opinions on his legacy.  That being said, there is no denying his power as an orator.  He came out and instantly the masses swooned, laughing uproariously at his aussie jokes and comments about "Fawr X".

His charisma is undeniable, and he used it to good effect: starting out bolstering the Aussie pride and subtly reinforcing our status as allies.

"As the world's only super power..." he would say, a silent barb towards China.

"These are our choices, oppression or liberty."

The real clincher however, came after he mentioned Indonesia, Japan, South Korea and the Philippines.   The real surprise was what dominated the headlines; Obama's commitment to an International Climate Fund, aiding developing countries tackle the effects of climate change.

This is a fascinating development, particularly as I am personally interested in the effects of energy poverty and the dilemma around setting up countries to gain equal access to clean, cheap and sustainable energy.  More on this at a later date...

The Handshake

It happened like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nopWOC4SRm4

(All jokes aside...)

Speech was made, and he moved to the side of the stage. We had no idea if he was going to meet anyone, but the moment he started descending via the stairs, the crowds surged towards the barricade. There must have been ten secret service / body guard guys on each side, warning people not to shove cameras in his face as he walked along the black fence and greeted individuals.

I was aided by my enormous heels and wide hips.  As I swung my way to the front, a former colleague from the Queensland Museum smiled at me.

"Get in there Yas!"

I grinned back. Oh yes indeed!

As the President turned towards me, my mind raced. What do I say? This wasn't the time for a foreign policy barb I supposed...

The handshake was firm, and his eyes fixed on my face, seemingly like an uncle I hadn't seen in a while.

"Thank you sir" was all I managed.

"How are you," he said (I think. It is a bit of a blur).  He looked right at me (slightly up, I was really tall), perhaps slightly surprised to see someone who looked like me in the Australian crowd.

"Good, thanks..."

The lack of inspiration in my answers is slightly embarrassing in hindsight, as was the fact that I didn't go for the fist bump instead.

The aftermath

Lots of squealing. From everyone involved...

Solid handshake with the President of the United States. #auspol #thishappened #obama

A photo posted by Yassmin Abdel-Magied (@yassmin_a) on Nov 11, 2014 at 9:16pm PST

In Sydney for Changemakers Festival! (and some links!)

Quick update: I'll be in Sydney this weekend! There are a couple of cool things happening: for one, Youth Without Borders Sydney is catching up (click HERE for details).  I'll also be taking part in the 3things event through the Changemakers Festival which should be quite awesome - come along on Sunday morning if you're free (details HERE).

I've also been honoured to be highlighted as part of birdee's Changemakers - the guys and gals are too kind!

Don't forget to like / contribute to the campaign: Racism, Hatred, Bigotry: #NotInMyName

A couple of things to keep you busy on a Saturday morning:

Do you think the 'Age of Loneliness' is killing us?

An essay on 'Terrorism and the Muslim veil'

I really enjoy good graffiti and have begun using Instagram to record some of what I see around the world.  Tag me if you find some #graf you've enjoyed...

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#Perth #graf #tagsandthrow #streetart #perthgraf #graffiti

View on Instagram

THIS COMIC: Twisted Doodles

We all just need to chill...

Guys, what Australia is this?

"A woman has been left traumatised after her head was smashed into the side of train carriage during an apparent racial attack in Melbourne's north.

The 26-year-old victim was on an Upfield line train outbound on Thursday night when she was approached by another woman, who began hurling abusive and racist remarks.

The woman grabbed the victim by the neck and hair, and forced her head into the wall of the carriage several times.

She then pushed the victim off the train as it rolled into Batman Station in Coburg North."

Source, The Age

***

It cannot have come to this.  We're so much better than this, really, we must be.

Yes, there are terrible things happening in the Middle East, but let that not destroy us from within.

I wish I could be witty and satirical at this point, but it would only serve to sound a little bit jaded. A fellow rig guy said to me once: "the things is, you can make a terrorist joke...but we don't know if you're kidding or not."

Talk about majorly awkward.

I could focus on the negatives, and there are a lot.  Check out Media Watch's wrap up if you'd like some proof.

However, instead, I choose to focus on the fact that even though there is a lot of misinformation and hatred out there (which does not deserve traffic from my blog, no matter how meagre, so won't be linked!), there is also a lot of good.

Follow the hashtag #WISH on twitter, and check out some of the empathy and solidarity shown.

Meet some regular Aussie Muslims here.

If you're curious, check out my new favourite Tumblr that is about Sharia, PartyTilFajr. 

 ***

In other news...

A child is just about to get his first taste of Formula 1.  #SoManyFeels.  Okay, calling him a child may be a bit harsh and petulant.  The young teenager then...

The Dutch racing driver is set to become the youngest on the track during an F1 weekend, three days after his 17th birthday.

I guess there is nothing like some F1 familial pedigree to ensure your rear end gets a seat.

As much as I adore / love / live for Formula 1, there is no doubting the decadent and brazen level of nepotism and elitism that exists within its ranks.

Yet, we keep coming back...

A Eulogy

It wasn't supposed to be like this, was it.

The worst day in their football history, and for a nation that lives, eats and breathes football...

The World Cup has been a joy to watch this year, it really has. Games like Algeria versus South Korea, which on first glance didn't look like it would be a firecracker ended up in an amazing battle.

But this?

Seven goals conceded? One goal in the final minute to Brazil?

It was an actual mauling. A massacre on the pitch, a bloodletting.

The Germans, in their standard form, showed no mercy.

Klose cemented his place in history as the greatest world cup goal scorer.

The Brazilians faced the most painful few minutes when 4 goals were scored in less than 7 minutes.

How does a team come back from this?

The last Brazilian team to lose on this scale (to Uruguay in 1950) said they were treated like they committed the worst kind of crime.

This is literally unbelievable.

Well, we can say with certainly - Neymar was missed...

Repost: Fever for Football

This is a piece contributed to a wonderful website Sajjeling - check it out! It's a great collection of Australian-Arab narratives and I am honoured to be a part of it...

“The thing about football – the important thing about football – is that it is not just about football.” – Terry Pratchett

My friend shook his head after listening to me wail about the crushing, humiliating defeat of La Furia Roja, the Spaniards, at the hands of ‘Clockwork Orange’, the Dutch.“I don’t understand! How can you care so much when you’re not even Spanish?”

“Explain to me why it means so much? How can it matter so much to you when there is no link between you and the country at all?”

I sighed. How to explain the love of football, especially that of the World Cup?

I can’t pinpoint exactly where my love of the World Game begun. My earliest memory is that of the 1994 games. Although I don’t remember the details, I do recall being left in front of the TV with instructions to call my dad over whenever a goal was scored. Given that I was only three, I wasn’t sure what a goal was exactly but I made a deduction that it had something to do with the reactions of people in the stand. So, anytime the stadium cheered I would rush to get my father, guessing something important had happened. Looking back, I am not sure my father thought the strategy was as impressive as I thought it was.

The following world cup – France 1998 – was celebrated with the purchase of a new set of pyjamas that was blue with soccer balls all over it. Unfortunately, there were no sets of soccer pyjamas for girls; my mother bought me a boys’ set. This was fine, except no one wanted to explain to me why there was an extra hole in the front of the pants…

My obsession after that only grew, despite the fact that everyone else in my family only cared slightly. I stuck posters with match timetable and draw on the lounge room walls. I made scrapbooks for the tournament, writing little notes about each match and cutting out all the pictures from the paper, decimating my father’s newspaper-reading ritual in the process.

In 2006, I watched every single game until my mother banned me for a night and demanded that I go to bed. Apparently a straight week without sleep was enough to make my mood positively dangerous, particularly when my team was floundering. 2010 brought the World Game to my screen right in the middle of my most difficult university exam period, and perhaps may explain the grades I received that semester. 2014, even with a full time job and despicable game times in Australia, has been no different.

The question, however, remains. Why, as my friend asked, do I care so much when Australia always does poorly and my land of birth, Sudan, has never made an appearance? Why do I feel so impassioned about the fate of a team when, ultimately, it has no bearing on me?

I am no footballer – anyone who has seen me with a ball at my feet will confirm that – so it has nothing to do with being inspired to play better. And in the weeks of the World Cup, it is much more than ‘just a sport’ for billions of people around the world including me. Football, it seems, has its own type of magic.

It is the most popular game in the world, played on streets in every nation. It requires no gear apart from an object that is roughly round (in Sudan we used balls made out of old socks) and markings in the ground to delineate a goal. Money, pedigree and social standing have no bearing on your ability to be a great player and perhaps even make a name for yourself. It is simple to understand, and its barrier to entry is extremely low. Anyone can play and be a part of the beauty of this game.

This game is so much more than statistics. Football is ultimately about humanity.

The World Cup is a tournament that brings grown men to tears, changes the lives of rookie players and inspires generations of children to do something great. Some countries grind to a halt to watch the games. The green is a battlefield where literally anything can happen – great teams kicked out at the group stages, underdogs (like Greece and Costa Rica this year) making it further than anyone thought they could goalies and strikers alike making the impossible real. Goals can be scored right up until the last second, changing fates and creating heroes. Infamous moments are revisited for decades; Madonna’s hand of God, Zidane’s headbutt, that-one-English-win-in-1966.

Football is the great equaliser.

Yet, the World Cup is also a tournament that unites in defeat. 31 of the 32 teams that travel to Brazil this year will experience it in some form, whether it is crushing, like that of Spain, or hopeful, like Australia’s defeat against the Dutch. If there is one emotion we can all share, it is the commonality of World Cup heartbreak.

That’s what it’s about, right? At the end of the day, football and the World Cup are about collective emotion and teams that are vessels for the hopes and dreams of nations. The beauty of this game beyond the field is that it expresses an emotion shared right around the world. It allows us, no matter our heritage, to feel part of something huge, and taps into the reptilian part of our brain that wants to belong, to have a tribe. The World Cup makes us all one people

Scottish footballer and former manager of English club Liverpool, Bill Shankly, said it all for me.

“Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.”

Bounce: For the Love of Football

My mornings have been drenched with the muted cheers of stadiums and my own shrieks at near misses or triumphs.  Football (spectating) is something that is in my blood, along with millions of others around the world, and this month provides the ultimate in that pleasure.

The morning's defeat - Mexico at the hands of the Dutch - was heart wrenching: the Mexicans scoring early in the second half and then falling back, providing Clockwork Orange with the chance to push and keep pushing until a very late equaliser and extra time penalty.  Like every match going forward, the looks of utter defeat on the faces of the Mexicans hearts the hurt...

In the spirit of the universality of football though, here is a wicked video for your morning :)

BOUNCE - This is not a freestyle movie from Guillaume Blanchet I Filmmaker on Vimeo.

IN THE BLACK: Thank you!

A great big thanks to Catherine Fox and "In the Black" for including me as part of the 2014 Young Business Leader's list.

It's an absolute honour, and an interesting branch into a world I had never really considered myself a part of before: Business.

Check out the write up here.  While you're there, read up on the other leaders! Everyone is doing something absolutely amazing and inspiring...

[While I'm here, shout out to my folks and the mentors who have helped me along the way!  Honestly if it wasn't for their encouragement and support, I wouldn't be at full, I'd be at no throttle at all].

An excerpt:

Still in her early 20s, Abdel-Magied says the best advice she’s been given is to be adaptable, and to use the leverage you have. A young Muslim girl interested in working in the community and with an engineering background is an unusual combination, she admits, but it means people listen.

“I’ve always looked at the opportunities that have come my way and had a goal – but don’t let that blind you to other avenues. The job that I’m in now, it was almost a whim that led me to apply to work on a rig and led me onto a new path. And you need to ask all the silly questions when you are in the early part of your career before you are seen as ‘the expert’.’’

How do we Lest to Forget...If we never knew?

Can you adopt a country's history if it isn't your birth or ancestral background?

When you become a citizen of a country, do you absorb its triumphs and tragedies? Does your new country's commemorations become yours?

ANZAC day is something of a sacred day for Australians.  Thousands wake up at dawn on the 25th of April to listen to the solemn, heart wrenching tones of the Last Post, to honour the fallen soldiers of yesteryear and to thank those who continue to dedicate themselves to the defence of our nation.

To be honest though, ANZAC is probably something that holds mixed meaning to those who, like my family, migrated to Australia and do not necessarily have the shared history.

Gallipoli, for example, is a huge part of the ANZAC legend. Yet that campaign was fought against the Ottoman Empire, and many of those troops were  Muslims from Turkey. How does someone, born as a Muslim in Turkey but who grew up in Australia, reconcile that?  Closer to home, how does someone who arrived to Australia perhaps as an Afghan or Iraqi refugee, fleeing from a war in which Australian troops took some part in... how does someone like that be a part of the fabric of the ANZAC story?

This can be construed as treacherous talk, definitely.   War and conflict are hugely emotive issues and often form part of a national identity.  It isn't treacherous though; it is so important that we as Australians get it right.  I am a lowly civilian, I have no history (Alhamdulilah) of war or conflict of any kind to relate to (my family are engineers through and through, and everyone needs engineers!) so can't claim to know the way things should be commemorated or in any way intend to warp the import of the history.  This isn't intended to be sacrilegious, but an opportunity to start a conversation.

I am passionately Australian and to share in what is a huge part of the Australian identity is a must.

So how to relate to and reconcile the history? How do I, as a migrant Australian Muslim, find my value and space in the ANZAC legend?

I look at it as a human.

Often, there is no one truth, nobody who is 'right'...only those 'left' standing.

So rather than dehumanise any 'side' by seeing them as the enemy, I think of our shared history as humans.  I see ANZAC day as an opportunity to commemorate those who chose to give their lives up for a purpose larger than their own.  I chose to pray for, my heart aches for, young lives lost, missed connections, misunderstandings.  For troops who became friends on no-mans-land in downtime only to realise these were the people they were then to kill.  For young people today who go away to fight for something they care about, whether it be a country or a tribe or a even their religious freedom - who am I to judge what is worth fighting for? For those who come back with PTSD and suffer even longer, that sacrifice perhaps less appreciated...

For if ANZAC is about bravery, mateship, fighting for what's right... well we all have our own manifestations of that.  Yes, for many it is about slouch hats and medals, but sitting alongside that surely it is about recognising our humanity as Australians and being grateful for a greater sacrifice.

We do adopt a country's history when we choose to call it our home, because history is part of a nation's identity.  It is what it is. Although we may not remember it, it is our duties to make sure we do not forget.

We humans too often forget the lessons of our past...

***

Edit @ 5:30pm 25th April 2014: 'Turkey' was replaced with 'Ottoman Empire' to reflect the true nature of the conflict.

The Run Down: Wills and Kate

Prelude: A couple of weeks ago, the phone rang (loudly).

The ringtone: Black and Yellow (very classy).

It was Governor General's (GG) office.

"Yassmin, would you like to come to a reception to meet Prince Will and Kate in a few weeks?"

"Um...sure?!", was my response, a little shocked.

I agreed immediately to the event in Canberra at the Governor General's residence.  No thoughts were given to the logistical details or how I was going to make it work. How could one say no?

Not a word was to be breathed about the event beforehand though either, so the countdown was on...

***

Today: 3am wake up, flight to Sydney from Perth and then down to Canberra.

Fortunately I had only packed the one outfit, because I could have spent hours deciding what to wear.  Why the outfit matters so much I am not sure, as one rarely remembers.  Irrationally though, that is almost always one of the first things on my mind when I get an invite to a fancy event.  In fact, the immediate thought is usually: what scarf?!

The night arrived sooner than I prepared for, and here are some of the highlights (after the jump!):

1. Almost arrived late. WOO! My ride got slightly lost and I made it to a 6pm event at 5.58pm...cutting it fine.

2. What that did mean though is that I was near the front of the pack, at the top end of the room. That's the only reason I could be at the right place for this shot...

(Terrible, terrible...but my mother was pleased I got into the frame! :D)

3. Anyhow! So as we were standing around in awe of everyone else in the room (few VC's, few Aussies of the year, general debauchery), making small talk, a bell is rung.

4. "No personal photos!" we were told, and we're given the impression that if you do whip out the iPhone for a selfie with the Duke, it may be the last thing you ever do... (in that room).  The rules are set.  "The Duke and Duchess will circulate. Hold your positions".  Instructions given, we awaited the Royal entrance.

5. I sauntered over to meet the Sochi Olympians. Their medals were AWESOME! Very heavy; a large subway cookie-size piece. I was suitably impressed...

6. The Royals and the GG + Wife made the entrance. Speeches made, they begun to circulate...

7. The Winter Olympians and I spoke to the Duchess first off the bat! She gave her undivided attention to each person she spoke to, seemed genuinely interested in asking questions and quite lively, particularly given the fact that their trip has been insanely packed.  I spoke to her about Youth Without Borders and the work we do, she said she loved my gold flakes necklace (from Melbourne markets) and continued circulating.

8. The rest of the night was meeting the other folk in the room. I told Harry Kewell how much of a Liverpool/Scouse fan I was (and how excited I am about how close we are to winning the league!), finally met the lovely Jess Watson and was embarrassed by the fact that I didn't know the dude from NXS who had a lovely suit.  I also laughed with a bunch of pilots and defence people who definitely thought I was insane. Caught up with a number of old friends and met the Governor General himself, who was also a great conversationalist and seemed very approachable.   "We love making use of this house!" he said, and I thought that was rather great.

9. All in all, it was an enchanting night. The caterers were also quite diligent: a lovely lady named Sarah always brought me the vegetarian options for the refreshments first.

10. What now?

Yes, these things are mostly ceremonial. However, they are also an opportunity to meet some amazing people and hopefully have the chance to work with others who share similar interests.  As I am very interested in equity of opportunity for young people, particularly for those from diverse backgrounds, I hope tonight will be the catalyst for a few of those conversations...

Who knows right?

Oh - and for my friends who are interested, this was the total outfit (white pants...too risky!):

PS: Would it be tacky to say I've had Lorde stuck in my head all day?

The F1 Come Down

 

It is that feeling you get when something so amazing happens that you can't believe it ever happened at all.

The weekend of the Malaysia Grand Prix was my first foray into the world of Formula One journalism. Writing for Richard's F1, I spent four days in the media centre, walking the paddock, scratching out articles, attending press conferences, laughing (loudly and often) and generally being in awe: in awe of the calibre and influence of the journalists in the room, in awe of the experience, in awe of the history.

Honestly, being able to speak to and joke with people whose work I have read and respected for a long time was surreal; being able to discuss the very issues that were pertinent to the sport in real time was ridiculous!  How I have been so fortunate (Alhamdulilah) to stumble into this world, I can only wonder.  Alhamdulilah, and a big shout out to Richard Bailey whose has been a staunch supporter, mentor and sponsor in this space.

It's the small things that create the strongest memories really.

The reporters from all around the world, writing and talking in different languages;

The nicknames given to the different drivers by the journos;

Learning about the various cliques - who hangs out with who, who do you ask for this, where to go for that;

Richard and I walking up and down the paddock with the aim of meeting people and scoring interviews (Richard loving the drivers and my interests lying with learning more from the technical directors, engineers and principals).  Walking up and down the paddock sounds fine, until you experience Malaysia stifling 90+ % humidity and mid-30 temperatures...

Sharing in the junk food (sugar always seems to help the writing process, no matter how seasoned a professional);

The rush after an announcement to figure out what this means and write it up;

The build of up excitement at the start of the race: I must say, probably the best group of people to watch and F1 race with because literally, everyone is glued to the screen and taking notes.  Once the race started and the *gasps* and murmurs died down (the starts are always great to watch), the room was as serious as it had ever been all week. Of course, this is the business end of the weekend. This is what we are all here for...

Terrible, terrible jokes;

Being the new kid on the block.  Everything is fun and exciting and there are hundreds of new people to meet! Making new friends :)

Learning amazing history about the sport from people that were actually there;

Making Niki Lauda smile (yay!);

Technical conversations with guys who actually write the regulation and design(ed) the cars;

Realising that these are the people who tell the world about Formula One, and they are just as cool and interesting as their writing is.

I still can't believe it (have I said that before yet?).  What surprised me was that although it is a place where you have to earn your stripes like any other, by and large people were quite friendly.  If you showed your keen interest, people were willing to help.  I guess that's like anywhere really: you only really get out as much as you put in.

It is a bit of a drug though; I am not sure how I would fare attending an F1 in the near future and sitting in the grandstands.

I'd want to know what the stewards are saying, what the word on the street is regarding the latest controversial topic, what new distraction Bernie has concocted, what new challenges the engineers are facing.  So who knows.

I'm but no means formally qualified, but if there is one thing I like doing, it is asking questions.  It would seem that some of the best people at this job are the ones who know the right question to ask...

(Oh, and being an engineer doesn't go down too badly either. It's an engineer's playground!)

Hopefully, inshallah, I will get the opportunity to do this again in the future.

In the meantime, memories will have to do...

#Sepang #MalaysianGP2014

#MH370

Made it to Sepang! Arriving at the #F1

So, the adventure begins! To be honest, I will be doing my gushing here :) The official business is happening on RichardsF1.com so head over that way to check out the reports and actual journalism that I will be doing with Richard over the #Sepang #MalaysiaGP but here...well here is where I let it all hang out :P

Backtrack - so I am now at the Malaysia GP as an accredited reported for the Malaysia GP (single round pass).  I arrived last night and we picked up passes this morning...

It is a pretty interesting crowd. Definitely a 'who you know' world, but that is motorsport.  The fun part is, I don't think they have too many African-looking hijabis wondering around the paddock (covered head to toe in the sweltering Malaysian heat #likeabaws) so it's always fun to be the one to mix things up a little...

Check out some of the happenings thus far:

One week left! "Australia Day" at your local Queensland Theatre!

Inshallah this weekend I will be heading off to check out the slightly controversial "Australia Day" production by Queensland Theatre Company!

"It's funny as hell with some killer lines but there is more to it than meets the eye ... and the heart." - Courier Mail

It's supposed to be a pretty tongue in cheek, sometimes difficult to stomach (?) look at Australian society and I can't wait to check it out...

Shameless plug - youth tickets are $33 so I'd totally recommend everyone go check it out as there is only one week left! Tickets can be found here.

“Moor carefully directs this play so as to test audiences’ limits …” - The Guardian

(love limits being tested)

“… laugh out loud, and be appalled that you did so.” -  XS Entertainment

"Jonathan Biggins’ Australia Day is a laugh, a jab, a thought provoking prod at our current political and cultural climate ..." - Aussie Theatre

Official blurb:

"Welcome to the Aussie country town of Coriole, where life is laidback and carefree. Unless you're a member of the Australia Day committee, who couldn't raffle a chook in a pub. These six quirky community leaders can't agree what it means to be true blue Aussie, and Mayor Brian Harrigan is no help. He's too busy scheming over his Liberal Party preselection and sledging the local Greens.

A bang-up-to-the-moment barbecue-stopper of a comedy, Australia Day follows a mob of bumbling bureaucratic battlers as they debate the details of the national day. Never mind wrangling the Nippers, the Lions and the CWA; these unhappy little Vegemites are at loggerheads deciding on the appropriate type of bread for a dinky-di sausage sizzle. Grab a lamington and a stubbie, sit back, and find out if Coriole's Australia Day will be a little ripper, or will it go off like a bucket of prawns in the sun!

As the brains behind Sydney Theatre Company's wickedly satirical institution The Wharf Revue, writer Jonathan Biggins has his finger firmly on the pulse of Aussie culture. Director Andrea Moor was behind last season's smash hit Venus in Fur. And for actor Paul Bishop (pictured), who plays the Mayor, this material is comfortably close to home. When he's offstage, Paul is a Redland City Councillor on Brisbane's bayside.

Australia Day features strobe lighting, political themes and medium level coarse language"

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Disclaimer: QTC is providing me with two complimentary tickets to go check this out and generally encourage people to as well. I will be writing an honest review though, so stay tuned!