Kate R and I have boarded the big silver bird to travel to South America and Antarctica, the first stop being Santiago de Chile. The flight was twelve hours, and due to the peculiarities of time zones, we arrived two hours before we left. Our stay was in the CBD, NH Collection Plaza, quite upmarket with nice features and next to the World Trade Centre. The afternoon arrival provided the opportunity for a walk through the local "Parque de las Esculturas", then a hike up the famous Cerro San Cristóbal parkland to catch the sunset and return - a round trip of about five hours. It was sufficiently impressive that we returned the following day and took the ascent via teleferico (with the oversized statue of Mary that looks over the city) and descended by funicular to viist the nearby "Casa Museo La Chascona", home of the Nobel Prize winning poet, politician, and diplomat, Pablo Neruda, a person who was certainly not without significant flaws as well as greateness.

This would be the start of en epic walking trip through Santiago that would be measured at 45km for the day (yes really), which would include a visit to the beautiful Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, the Catedral Metropolitana with it's overwhelming baroque features, past the ridiculous over-sized flag at the Palacio de La Moneda, then to the Museo de la Solidaridad Salvador Allende and, on return, to the remarkable collection in the El Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino and the "Horizonte Antártico" exhibit at La Biblioteca del Congreso Nacional. El Museo de la Memoria y los Derechos Humanos, which was high on the agenda, was unfortunately closed for renovations.

Whilst far from the most visually spectacular part of the trip, the Salvador Allende museum was definitely the most emotionally significant location for me. The Allende events were utterly critical in the formation of my own political opinions when I became aware of them in my early teens. Helped by the film, "Missing", I became a voracious reader of the history. For those who don't know, the summary is that a socialist president was elected supported by a left-wing alliance and implemented a programme of nationalisation of resource industries, land redistribution, significant health and education welfare improvements, and the remarkable economic and logistics computer system, Project Cybersyn. Allende was dedicated to the idea that socialism could be achieved through parliamentary democracy; but ultimately the military disagreed (unsurprisingly supported by the United States) disagreed. A coup and the installation of the Pinochet regime resulted in years of torture and deaths of thousands of democratic activists. The Allende events is tragic and utopian, providing insights on the nature of the capitalist State, and has a lasting impact on history.

Last night I hosted the annual Murdoch University Alumni meeting for Melbourne at the Arts Centre with plenty of excellent and intelligent conversation, as would be expected at such an event (well-catered too, I must add). As part of the formal proceedings, we held a panel discussion on what Murdoch University meant and how it changed us. Our panel, quite remarkably, had graduates from every decade of the university's existence, including a foundation student, Dr. Trevor Hogan, and the remarkable story from Lem Bagout, who came to Australia as a refugee from Sudan; he now teaches physics.

For my own part (representing the 1990s graduates), I made the point that the radical parts of Murdoch's original educational objectives ("the Murdoch ethos") are now accepted and mainstream: encouraging mature-aged students and lifelong learning, allowing for part-time and external studies, encouraging interdisciplinary studies, and alternative entry based on experience. I also made a point of mentioning Bruce Tapper, who died a year ago on the day; not just because he was such a huge influence on my life, but in particular, because he was such a fierce advocate for Murdoch University's progressive education and egalitarian access.

In many ways, my alma mater sometimes stands in stark contrast with my employer, the University of Melbourne. Prestigious and conservative, the UniMelb is recognised as the top university in the country, which is really due to the excellent and well-funded research sector, standing on the shoulders of giants past. At UniMelb in the past fortnight, there have been two social occasions of note: an end-of-year potluck lunch for Research Computing Services (I brought along the Polish duck soup (Czernina), and an end-of-year social event for all of Business Services, this year held on campus at the Ernie Cropley Pavilion, a better location, and superior catering to previous years.

As another example of contrast, last Saturday I attended the Thangka Art Exhibition on Tibetan Cultural Heritage and Contemporary Development hosted by the Australian ReTeng Charity Foundation, associated with the Buddhist ReTeng Monastery in Donvale. I was somewhat surprised and impressed by the sheer number of dignitaries from the Melbourne Chinese community in attendance, and extremely impressed by the artworks on display. There was some juxtaposition of this aesthetic event, and the one attended in the evening, with Carla BL, at a little bar in Fitzroy to see a group of post-punk musicians (including my favourite local coldwave artists, Cold Regards) perform. For reasons of international travel, this is the end of EoY Melbourne activities - next stop, Santiago!

A kind friend once introduced me as "This is Lev, he's one of those people who holds society together". A former partner, when I was juggling time and tasks, reminded me that every one of the tasks I was trying to arrange in some order was a voluntary role. This has been an approach for most of my life; even in my teenage years, I would take up volunteer roles, and at university, I helped start and organise some notable clubs. In my mature adulthood, this has continued over the decades, with several bodies of note (UniMelb PGSA, Linux Users of Victoria, Prosper Australia (Henry George League), the Melbourne Unitarian Church, all come to mind, for example). Currently, I'm the (volunteer) president of three non-profit incorporated associations, and that means being responsible for those groups, along with other voluntary roles, of course. "Responsibility" is a key term here; although the commitment is voluntary, once it is made, it is effectively a promise to others, and one that must be honoured.

Last weekend, for example, was the Annual General Meeting of the Australia-China Friendship Society. It was well-attended with excellent discussion, and we have three major projects in the near year: a concert with Shu Cheen Yu and the Lotus Wind Choir, an anti-racism survey, and an incredible trip to Guizhou and Sichuan is being organised. Another example is that next week there is (again) a contested election for the executive of the local ALP branch, entirely from the enthusiasm of members. As the Returning Officer, I have to arrange ballots and engage in the task of counting up the votes using the multi-member proportional representation with the affirmative action method. But that's not all; I'm also the convener of the Murdoch University Melbourne alumni chapter, and we have an end-of-year social event at the Arts Centre arranged as well, which will included a panel discussion of how Murdoch's educational objectives ("the Murdoch ethos", as it was called) transformed our lives.

In each of these activities, I find myself supported by excellent committee members and other volunteers. People of a like mind and disposition who see the worth of freely working together with others on matters of a shared interest. The Ancient Stoics called this "sympatheia" (συμπάθεια), the connectedness of individual parts to the whole community ("The universe made rational creatures for the sake of each other, with an eye toward mutual benefit based on true value and never for harm", as Marcus wrote), and even beyond as the Stoics saw their ethics as a subset of their physics; the interconnecting logos touches all things. In a more modern and less metaphysical sense, Hannah Arendt waxed lyrically about what she called "action", when a public would engage in activities together that went beyond the satisfaction of necessities ("labour") or the economic incentives of exchange ("work"), but rather with the motivation of shared understanding, which she interpreted as freedom in its fullest sense.