Cultural Adjustments

The Ute, With Protection

My first coherent Australian weekend has come and gone, and since I managed to stay up past 10:30 both nights, I'll count it as a success.  Slowly, I'm adjusting to life down under.  Yesterday I sat on the beautiful Gold Coast, shivering in my bikini, trying to convince myself that any New Englander should be able to conquer the brisk Australian winter.  The water was warm, the sand was soft, and the shark nets appeared to have been in working order, but since the sun was already setting at 4 p.m., swimming wasn't in the cards.

Today I took a major step in Australian adjustment, and began learning how to drive a manual car.  Truck.  Ute.  Lucky for me, Mark's old ute - which has the character of Dad's old Manly Man Van, - was pretty easy to learn on, and changing gears wasn't quite as complicated as I thought.  It's very hilly around here though (it reminds me of pictures I've seen of San Francisco), so I won't be venturing out on the roads for a while yet.  Stalling out on the wrong side of the road would send me in to a bit of a panic. 

Another Australian phenomenon that I'm getting used to creepy crawlies.  They're everywhere.  In the past few days, I'm come into contact with a giant spider in my bedroom, a baby gecko in the bathroom, a massive cockroach in the kitchen (and that's no indication of the cleanliness of the house), and an opossum that came and knocked on the slider door.  Of course there is still some screaming involved when I spot the creature, but I've progressed, and no longer run frantically out of the room.

Tomorrow I am starting a week's worth of work at Channel Ten News.  Tomorrow and Tuesday I'll be researching stories and learning the teleprompters and other equipment, and later in the week I'll be writing for Totally Wild, one of their children's shows.  The job isn't paid and isn't permanent, but I plan on walking in and knocking their socks off, so hopefully something great will come of it.  If nothing else, I'll have a contact and a reference in Australia.  I'll have to tune in to my inner Aussie for the writing though, since colorful words like "wizbangery" are acceptable in this place that is similar, yet so different, to home.

Politics

 I was surprised this morning to see that the lead story on The New York Times website was about the Australian election.  This was especially true since the Australian press repeatedly referred to the election as routine (although how could it be with the Sex party and the Shooters up and running?) , and the Sunday paper the day after the election pointed out that it had barely appeared in the international news. 

However, this has all changed, because for the first time since World War II the Aussies are facing a hung parliament.  As of last night, in the House of Representatives, the two major parties were separated by just one seat, with three seats undecided and three independents from the boonies of the Land Down Under, who now have captured the attention of the international.  If you're at all interested in the story from someone who understands Australian Politics, see the NYT article: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/26/world/asia/26australia.html?hp

Also (shameless plee for visitors coming up), I got an email about a great deal on Australian vacations today.  Basically it's the flight and 10 nights lodging for less than the price of most flights.  Now you have no excuse!  http://www.travelzoo.com/vacations/asia/874441/?utm_source=top20_us&utm_medium=email_top20

Jet Lag

A warning to all potential visitors (and I know you've all already begun booking your trips):  Make the vacation a long one, because a trip to the land down under is going to send you for a serious loop.  Granted, this is coming from the girl who slept for nearly 24 hours after a flight to London, but I don't think I'm overreacting this time.

I've spent more time sleeping in Australia than awake.  Staying up past eight or sleeping later than seven-thirty have been almost impossible.  However, it is getting better... last night I was in bed, but not sleep, at 8, and this morning after waking at 6 a.m. I managed to squeek out another three hours of sleep.  Soon, I may actually be awake (and even alert?) for twelve hours a day.

Being transported across the world sends you back to an infantile neediness where you sleep and eat when you want, regardless of what everyone around you is doing.  Even though I slept nine hours on the plane, there is no escaping the groggy, fussy, exhausted state that is jet lag.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

Aussie men, that's who.  Apparently it is completely socially acceptable for men of all ages to bare their hairy white legs and walk around in shorts that my mother wouldn't let me out of the house in.  This and many other cultural differences, like walking around barefoot, were on full display as I shopped at the local mall today.

This morning I was asked to come in to Channel Ten News, where I will be doing at least a few days of work experience.  I quickly realized that I'd left all work-appropriate clothes at home and would have to do some shopping, ASAP.   Turns out that a day spent at the mall would be the biggest cultural challenge yet.

Shopping is always difficult for women, and since I thought I may have an interview this afternoon, I was in a rush.  You can imagine how happy I was when I saw that sizes ran in American-style 6, 8, 10 etc, rather than the European system that I still don't understand.  Unfortunately it took me three quarters of the morning and a lot of looking in the mirror to see if a small child had affixed itself to my rear before a saleslady told me that an Australian size six was the same as an American size zero, making my size a lot higher up than the 10's I had been trying on.

Sizing and short-shorts out of the way, price was the next shocker.  The Australian Dollar is worth about 88 American Cents, so I figured prices would be fairly similar.  Not at all.  Everything here is so expensive!  After being reassured many times that I was not being scammed, I managed to shell out A$4 for a McDonald's coffee, and accept that every skirt in the mall might actually be priced upwards of A$80.

However, I can't complain because one Australian stereotype was true - the people here are very nice so far.  Everyone is eager to here why I'm here, and everyone ends the conversation by genuinely saying that they hope I love it in Australia.  If people are this enthusiastic, the country must have something good going for it.

The Great Outdoors

Yesterday was a picture-perfect Australian day.  Mark and I went bushwalking (read: hiking) up Mount Coot-tha, a mound slightly larger than a hill, but certainly not a mountain, in one of the suburbs of Brisbane.  Because the path was well-traveled and wide, I decided to face my fears of Death by Creepy-Crawly and plunge forth into the Australian bush. 

Winter here is also the dry season, so the river and water falls along the trail had been reduced to a few wading pools and a trickle, but the scenery was pretty, and, luckily, the wildlife sightings were confined to a  harmless bushturkey.  The view at the top was the perfect way to orient myself and my to-do list.  From the summit I could see (real) mountains to climb, buildings to explore, and the world's largest sand dune, for tobogganing down (yes, sand tobogganing really does exist here). 

In the course of the afternoon (Mt. Coot-tha, driving around, and a walk around a near-by lake), I managed to see a cockatoo searching for his lunch in the park, a lizard sunning by the lake, two parrots, a pelican, and a flying fox (albeit, a dead one).  Zoos here must show boring things like squirrels (which don't live here) to stay in business, because a walk through town in Brisbane is just as exciting as a trip to Franklin Park.

Life Down Under

First thing's first.  Despite my doubts, I managed to survive the trek to Australia.  Because Mark did the same trip a few weeks before, I knew that if I chose a seat in the very back of the plane there is more room between the seat and the wall.  On a fourteen-hour flight, every inch was going to count.  What I didn't know was that the travel Gods would smile on me by leaving the seat next to me open.  With two seats and the miracle of melatonin, I managed to sleep nine of the fourteen hours across the Pacific. 


When I arrived, minus one bag (which made it here this morning) I decided to hit the ground running and do the most Australian thing I could think of  - cuddle a Koala bear.  Even though it was grey and rainy, getting up close and personal with a platypus, kangaroos, emus, and a dingo (no dad, they do not eat babies), was beyond thrilling.    More pictures and video are on facebook.

Kangaroo... Or a Wallaby.  Either way, check out his Toes.

Platypus!  The video does him more justice.

Mama and Baby, who refused to show her face.

Second most deadly snake around.  Joy.

Get Out the Vote

Today is election day in Australia.  Being jet lagged and arriving the day before the election, I haven't managed to grasp too much, but what I have figured out is just strange, beginning with the fact that I was dragged to a middle school on a Saturday morning because someone thought it would be a good idea to vote on the weekends, and because it's illegal to skip out on your civic obligation.  As you can see below, this leads to some creative voting.  Any uninformed citizen who wanders in with the sole purpose of avoiding the $50 fine for not voting has his work cut out, since Australians don't just vote for one candidate, they rank each and every candidate on the ballot.  Not exactly sure how this translates into votes, but on the senate ballot there were sixty (yes, 60) candidates, all waiting to be ranked.  No small feat. 

The Senate Ballot

Creative Voting

The Journey

When the first boatload of English convicts set sail for Australia on May 13, 1787, they began a journey that would not end for 250 days, only to then face the challenge of setting up a colony from scratch .  Now, 223 years later, I will arrive on the other side of the world - a place where the toilet water flows the wrong way and Christmas feels more like the 4th of July - after just 24 hours and 10 minutes of travel.

After a struggle at Self Check-in, a frantic repacking of my 58-pound suitcase, and wiping of tears at security, I'm on my way!  Hopefully the flights will go smoothly, and so will the next year, and hopefully this blog will be a way to keep in touch with everyone I love at home!

<3
Kelly