Cultural Awareness 101

Prior to moving to Australia, I had to take a survey about my perceptions of Aussie culture. I also had to go through a 1 hr course on cultural awareness. The course was pretty straight forward and basically told me that even though Australia is an ‘English’ speaking nation there would be days where I felt the woes of being a foreigner. To alleviate those woes, I try to make note of the ‘foreign’ words, and get a giggle out of the moments lost in translation.

Here are some potential misconceptions Americans have about Australia:
Just like we don’t ride horses to work in Texas, there aren’t kangaroos, koalas, or crocodiles roaming the city streets of Melbourne. In fact, you have to go out of your way to find any of the said creatures. Unfortunately, culture class did not warn me of the Australian spider ‘situation’ (for further information please refer to the blog about my friend Webster).

Only the bogan Aussie’s and Crocodile Dundee (Texas translation: rednecks) say things like “G’day Mate”

They don’t really ‘throw shrimp on the barbie’ but maybe that’s because five out of the 6 months here, I’ve been in winter, thus not much barbie usage going on. Menus don’t ever have ‘shrimp’, it would say prawns. If you want bell peppers on your sandwich at Subway you have to say ‘capsicum’ – otherwise the 16 year old behind the counter just stares at you blankly while you say bell pepper louder and slower (as if that was going to translate into capsicum eventually).

It’s sunny and everybody surfs. Wrong. Considering that Melbourne has now had a record breaking number of days below 20 degrees (which is 68 F) there isn’t much surfing. Now, 68 isn’t bad on a sunny day, but 6 out of 7 days a week it rains at some point in the day, and is rarely sunny after 10am – which makes for shit weekends. (That’s another thing – shit is a pretty common adjective here, not that I’m shy to cursing, just find it is used much more casually).

Australia and New Zealand are one in the same. Not even close – even more different than Canada and the US. Fortunately, once you’ve been here awhile, it’s pretty easy to distinguish the accents. What’s really starting to surprise me is how quickly I can differentiate British from Irish and Scottish (this all used to sound the same to me). I’ve also learned that Canadians get really offended when you ask if they are American. So to hedge their bet, if an Aussie thinks you are from North America, but not sure which part of the NATO agreement you would have signed under, they ask if you are Canadian – which I think explains why I get asked that, a lot.

One consistent misconception about Americans would be that we all love Obama – no further comment.

This one is a bit specific and weird:
Lady in my pilates class: “Heathah, is it true that you can’t walk at night in Greenville, Mississippi because wild dogs will attack you?” (She was travelling there for work next week.)
Me: “Uh, I think that’s about as likely as being attacked by a drop bear”

And of course, more Aussie vocabulary lessons:
Grown men wear “jumpers” – I think it is a type of shirt – more of a winter type that requires another shirt underneath to stay warm, but different than a sweater.

“Thongs” – go between your toes not your butt cheeks

One buys “petrol” at a “servo” – that would be gas at a gas station. And I must admit, I didn’t have a good response when an Aussie asked me “why would you refer to a liquid as ‘gas’?”

Jugs – I think this is a pitcher of beer. I don’t hear this much, but maybe that will change when I start travelling to Sydney and New Zealand.

So back in States (aka Texas), I was always envious of people with nicknames. And I loved calling people by nicknames, especially ones with a funny story behind it (aka Niddy). Nicknames are huge here. The weird part is that male nicknames get a bit of a feminine touch. Matt is Matty, Nick is Nicko/Niko, so forth and so on. Of course, Heather or Heath-ah is difficult to shorten. I’ve heard ‘Simps’ but that just doesn’t roll of the tongue. Occasionally I get called ‘Texas’ but only long enough for someone to realize I don’t have a Texas accent, and consequently the nickname just doesn’t stick.

People here are ‘keen’ and not easily ‘fussed’ or if they are fussed, they will ‘suss it out’ – still not sure I’m spelling that one correctly or to what degree ‘keen’ should be used. I’m not sure if when I say “I’m keen to do xyz” if that means, “I really have to do this” or “It would be nice, but I’m not going to freak if it doesn’t happen”

Liquor stores are ‘bottle shops’ and shops in general aren’t open as late or on weekends like American stores.

Arse is ass, and bum is butt – who knew body parts could have so many names

ps - Thanks Liz for the blog idea :)

Random Coastline Pictures

Can you tell I've spent alot of time looking at pretty beaches?

Dating Down Under

Call it Kangaroo Mating or Aussie Dating...let’s get down to the ‘root’ of it all!

Wasn't too sure about writing this one (yes, I would sooner write about my poop than this) but hey - what do I really have to hide...besides that lovely tattoo on my ass that I was inspired to get as a declaration of my independence on my 18th birthday.

I’ve always appreciated my single friends and married/couple friends equally. I occasionally contemplated the feeling of being the 3rd/5th/7th wheel in what I now longingly refer to as my “Life in Texas”, but I always had my single friends to cheer me up. It’s a little different here, as I don’t have as many friends without SO’s (SO = significant other’s), and there are a lot of activities that are just not as fun when your flying solo.

Believe it or not, I’ve found dining alone to be pretty easy. Other than the elderly couples that stare at me as if I belong on that show Modern Marvels, I generally feel comfortable eating alone, and toying with the occasional good looking waiter. Surprisingly, the pangs of ‘singledom’ hit close to home while dining out in a group a few weeks ago. This might just be that I’m in a country that generally disregards customer service, but nothing quite scorns the single girl ego like a 7th chair pulled up/forced onto a table of 6 already seating 3 couples. I’m usually a ‘chin up’, take a tequila shot, find the best looking bloke in the bar to mug down with, and ‘let it roll of your back’ girl, but when the gold class movies only had seating in pairs – my blissful life that is ‘all about me’ came to a screeching halt (not really, but you get the point, the pot of frustration finally boiled over). So life is starting to need an SO…even if it is just for the moment…aka - travel companion, movie date, fancy dinner date, and the highlight of being dreadfully obligated to another person - some consistent…er…rooting - or what we more liberal but still classy American girls refer to as ‘getting laid’. Sorry Mom and Dad.

So in the spirit of “getting with the program” or “when you can’t beat’em, why not join’em”…I decided it’s about damn time to for Operation Find Heather a Feller (said with varying degrees of laughing sarcasm). Said conquest is much easier said than done, and I’m guessing will require some amount of leg work (and no, I don’t mean the legs behind your head type leg work – get your minds out of the gutter).

Of course, we can’t set out on such a difficult mission without guidelines or a plan, so I’ve made a few notes:

-They all have accents, so this is no longer a point of attractiveness. In fact, the less of the accent, the easier it is for me to understand what they are saying. There is only so much “smiling and nodding” a girl can do before a date goes down hill.

-Mate is a friend. Heterosexual men refer to other heterosexual men as their ‘mates’. These men are still very eligible.

-When someone refers to their ‘partner’ here, it is not the politically conservative way of saying “I’m dating someone of the same sex” It merely means they are taken, these men are not eligible.

-“Are you from Canada?” or “Is that a Canadian accent?” has to be the worst (and most consistent) pick up line. And no, I cannot explain why I sound Canadian to these people. I need a witty response to this question.

-Considering the above, I need to work on my “Texas” accent. There is an extreme look of disappointment when men realize I’m from Texas, but I don’t sound like Jessica Simpson in Dukes of Hazard (or some other version of an uneducated southern bell).

Some non-lady like Aussie words that one shouldn’t use:
Fanny - this would be like saying cunt in the US (and yes, I learned this because I used the phrase "fanny-pack" in front of mixed company – can we say awkward?)

Rooting - You don't 'root' for the home team, unless we're talking Debbie Does Dallas porno. The proper Aussie use of "root" would be something along the lines of..."She was a great root…" per Nick Wee.

And lastly, I leave you with some great quotes about being single, from some of the best commentary on being a woman, Sex and the City:

“Think about it. If you are single, after graduation there isn’t one occasion where people celebrate you … Hallmark doesn’t make a “congratulations, you didn’t marry the wrong guy” card. And where’s the flatware for going on vacation alone?"

“The fact is, sometimes it’s really hard to walk in a single woman’s shoes. That’s why we need really special ones now and then to make the walk a little more fun.”

Save the Whales!, er, I mean Water

WARNING: This post directly relates to bowel movements, or at least my personal experience with them. So if you fancy any romantic attraction to me, are easily grossed out, or just generally have a life policy not to talk about your poop (or mine for that matter) then stop reading now.

No really, I'm not kidding, this gets graphic.

Last chance...

Ok, here goes it:

In Australia (and this might be true in countries outside the US, however my experience is limited to comparing US and AU) water conservation is a really big deal. The tree hugging hippies of Austin pale in comparison to the thirst driven rain drop worshipping drought asylum seekers from down under. Understandably, we're talking about a continent that's 80% uninhabitable because water becomes a scarce resource more than 80 miles inland (that's probably a gross exaggeration, but I don't have time to research the real statistics).

Now, due to said arid wasteland, water conservation extends into a very real part of my everyday life (and yours too I would hope).

The Toilet.

Yes folks, it's time for potty talk. Enter any Aussie banos (and no, most people here don't know what the word banos means) and you will see signs reminding you to clean the toilet or leave it in the same cleanliness that you found it. I'm all for this - granted, I can't imagine why some adults need a reminder to flush, but A + to the guy creating those lovely reminders. There's a catch...

In the spirit of saving water, toilets have as little water in the toilet as possible. I hope you know where this is going...so low water, big porcelain bowl, poop doesn't have a water beacon calling it into a clean little pile in the center of the bowl. As you can imagine, on any given day, there are varieties of poops. And yes, some of those suckers stick like glue on impact. Hence, this lovely sign isn't a polite reminder to flush, it's to let all of us water wasting foreigners know that we are expected to brush the toilet clean after taking a dump.

Personally, it takes away the satisfaction of having dropped the kids off at the pool. With the fear of being hung out to dry (haha no pun intended), I try to flush a couple of times, hoping the tides of water spilling from the sides of the bowl take mercy on my distaste for household poop related chores and wash away the remnants of my dinner from the night before. But inevitably, I often surrender, and participate in this Australian public clean potty ritual. I find I've used a toilet brush more in the last 3 months that probably the last 5 years of my adult life.

Jackie and Chase - Pictures

They had this great video but I can't get it to load :o(

As you will see in the pictures, they covered a lot of ground!

So I live in Australia...

...every few days or so I stop and think, did I really just move to Australia?

This thought usually goes one of two directions
1) What the hell have I done? This is usually when I'm missing something from home like having friends/family nearby, Austin lifestyle and food, or all the crap I accumulated to make myself 'comfortable' (Heating and A/C, nice apartment, couch, TV, bed, car, fancy coffee machine, electric toothbrush, strippers, etc) - I am clearly still struggling a bit on that materialistic selfish side.

or what follows is some version of...

2) Yes, Heather, yes you moved half way around the world, HELL YEAH!

As you can imagine, I am constantly being asked "So why Australia?" to which I haven't come up with a good answer. I mean, I know why, but it's boring and doesn't really make for good conversation. In typical Heather fashion, I wanted to think of some clever, witty, or funny anecdote...but I never came up with anything good (please if you have any thoughts, send them my direction).

My original remark to said question "So Heather, why did you move to Australia?"

My reply: "The Australian Thunder Down Under, of course" to which I received blank stares and courtesy laughs.

I finally grew a pair and asked..."So where can I see said 'thunder down under'?" (Jeanette this was so I knew where to take you when you came to visit) This is when I learned......but the Australian Thunder Down Under is only a figment of the surreal life otherwise known as Vegas. Said trou dropping, thong wearing, perfectly toned and tanned dancing beef cakes do not, in reality, exist in Melbourne.

ps -(I can't speak for the rest of Australia just yet - there is still hope!).

Everything is not bigger in Texas

Maybe it's been a long time since I had a kiwi fruit in Texas, but I'm pretty darn sure that the kiwi fruit here is almost double in size.