Humidity

I admit great personal failure in this department. When the humidity genes were dished out, someone must have put the incontinence gene in the wrong place.

I have always suffered. As a kid, I would play tennis in the middle of winter and still turn into a wet, soggy sack while my opponents maintained impeccable levels of personal hygiene and still maintain perfectly coiffed hair. It caused me great personal anguish.

I have been quite fortunate in my work career that I have only rarely found myself in work situations where a suit was mandatory. Its just something I could never understand. A suit is just so inappropriate for the temperature-challenged in both cold winters or hot summers.

In Canberra, there were many occasions when a hot summer lunchtime of 35 degrees would see me transform into a soggy sponge while lunch partners would remain completely dry.

And later, when in New Zealand (not the warmest of places) I had the only job of my life where a suit was compulsory. I travelled by bus to this job and found that the clammy nature of buses caused me immense grief. On numerous occasions, I would start sweating profusely in the warm, clammy atmosphere. No windows were open and I noted the number of fellow travellers wearing winter jackets while underneath my suit jacket, I was sweating profusely, converting my lovely white shirt into a dishrag. I MUST have fresh air and I can never understand why no-one seemed as distressed as me when it comes to re-breathing foul, clammy air in enclosed spaces.

Then comes Brisbane – perhaps the first time I have spent any length of time in a hot AND humid environment. Now I wonder why I brought any cotton shirts as whenever I wear them, I turn into a sloppy mess. I need shorts and very airy t-shirts but this still does not stop me arriving at language class each morning looking like I have just put my clothes on after a swim.

Roll on Dili where it is both hotter and more humid. I think this is why beer was invented.