A Summer Sunday

It was a freakin' BEAUTIFUL day today. Sunny, mid-70s.

Jeff went sailing/racing all afternoon and looked like a happy golden retriever when he was done (a wet golden retriever but perhaps "wet" and "happy" are redundant with golden retrievers.) He sailed two races and they didn't come in last. The came in 2nd and (via a complicated handicapping system) 7th.

Given that the guy who does the handicapping and scoring is who Jeff is sailing with, it sounds like it's an honest system if not an easy-to-understand system.

I took the train down and joined him as they were coming in off the water. Met two other ex-pats, a husband and wife from Hong Kong and Boston, respectively. They sail together and they also weren't last, though they were a lot closer. :)

Enjoyed the sausage sizzle afterwards.

I, on the other hand, tried a new church this morning. Presbyterian, for possibly the first time in my life. It had an interesting website so I thought I'd give them a try.

As a lifelong Lutheran, I am used to a certain kind of traditional worship format. It looks a lot ... Catholic (which is ironic if you know church history at all) or at least the way Catholics used to worshop, according to my Catholic friends. (To which I reply: whatever!)

But here I am in a new city/country/continent/hemisphere and I'm willing to experiment. The primary alternative to "traditional liturgy" is "prayer and praise".

* No altar.
* No crucifix.
* Groovy rock band (drums, guitars, electric keyboard), usually fronted by a cute (young, of course) blond or Asian chick.
* No hymnals.
* Lyrics to songs (not "hymns", thankyouverymuch) projected onto a screen where the crucifix would normally be. Very upbeat, simple, and inspiring.
* Hand-waving and the occasional "Amen".
* Mostly songs punctuated by prayer, some more songs, a catchy sermon, another prayer or two, some songs, maybe an altar call, more songs, more prayers.

All very happy-happy-joy-joy. So very not Lutheran. Lutherans are, frankly, a little skeptical about "happy-happy" and downright nervous about "joy-joy".

Aside: from a woo-woo/metaphysical/chakra point of view, I find churches either very grounded (chakras 1-3) or very ethereal (chakras 5-7). I find traditional mainline churches to be very grounded. I found the prayer and praise liturgies to be very ethereal. In the best world, a church would embrace both. Still looking for a church that's found out how to do that.

I've been experimenting, therefore, with the happy-happy-joy-joy churches. Today's looked like one of those, at least from the website.

Well, the reality was a wee bit different.

Yes, they had a band -- two clarinets, a flute, and an upright piano. But they were fronted by a cute young Asian chick.

No crucifix but they did offer communion and so they had a table on the side with the communion ware and, yes, a cross.

Lyrics to hymns (yes, hymns) projected on a screen. And they were, well, hymns. And an odd mix of perky/upbeat and .... dour.

No handwaving. No Amens.

Hymn/song/hymn/ thing punctuated by a bit of history and communion.

The pastor started off with an acknowledgement that today is Reformation Sunday and gave a verbal high-five to Martin Luther. Oh, I wiggled in self-satisfaction in my seat at that one, what with being Lutheran and all. However, he then went on to explain how thousands and thousands of people were burned at the stake (The implied evildoer? Those darned Roman Catholics!) for believing that all they needed was faith to be right with God.

Also, that buying indulgences allowed you to commit adultery with no spiritual repercussions.

Um.....yeah.....that just might qualify as a gross over-simplification.

The prayers were long and one that really caught my attention asked God to help us defeat this evil interest in Halloween, which is just a celebration of the dark side of humanity and has caused thousands of deaths.

Aside: Australians are not at all sold on the whole Halloween thing. From what I can tell from the paper, they're split about 50/50 between "ah, it's just a bit of simple fun and lollies" and "screw it, it's an American thing and we don't need to be following Americans anywhere!".

The sermon -- 30 minutes! -- was...hmmmm.....well....there was the bit about pornography and the difference between men's and women's porn. That was, ah, instructive.

There was the somewhat tortured explanation of how we all avoid farting and burbing when we start dating because we want to impress our boyfriends/girlfriends. We start farting and burping in our relationships at some point because we're disappointed that they don't satisfy us spiritually and we just don't care any more. And here I thought it was just because we'd finally gotten to a point in our relationships where we could comfortably be ourselves.

Also, because holding in farts and burps for 30-50 years is just a bad idea.

And that Nicodemus (Gospel of John, chapter 3) was a religious SuperHero in his day and time. I actually kinda enjoyed how he worked that bit of understanding.

But I think maybe next Sunday I'll try a different church.

Attending this church, though, required a bus trip to a new suburb which is always fun. It's a way to explore what's out there and there's some very interesting looking suburbs.

Plus, the day smelled glorious! We are deep into spring here -- the equivalent of late April/early May in DC -- and everything is blooming and the scents are intoxicating. They are not omnipresent but when a swath of scent wafts past, I almost have to stop and just sniiiiiiiiiiif. Delightful.

Fruit of the Vine

Jeff and I just had an interesting conversation over dinner about alcohol and Australia.

No, not their respected wine industry. I'm talking about alcohol consumption and the social response to it, which can be summed up as "well, hell yeah you drink too much. We all do!".

I'm not saying all of Australia is drunk and/or alcoholic. I'm saying there's a tolerance for alcohol consumption and alcohol abuse here that we haven't had in the US for probably 25 or 30 years.

Example 1:

On a recent episode of a popular police drama, "Cops LAC", a senior sargeant leaves his retirement party (about a month ahead of actually retiring) drunk. One or two co-workers ask if he's "OK" to drive home but no one actually tries to stop him. He hits a girl. When he takes her into the hospital, he allows everyone to believe she was the victim of a hit-and-run and that he came across her on his way home.

In subsequent episodes, he's clearly feeling very guilty about his ruse but he's keeping it up since it would get him fired and (I think) lose his pension.

In the US, that storyline would have played out very differently. I can't imagine them not presenting his co-workers as being more "responsible" about taking his keys away, or him getting caught in his lie, or something terrible happening to him (beyond the guilt) because now he's a "bad guy" -- he drove drunk.

Example 2:

On a morning women's TV show today, the panelists were discussing a phenomenon that is sort of a "senior prank/skip day" for high schoolers. It happens throughout Australia and is a huge headache for teachers and administrators.

One of the panelists -- a former teacher and expecting a child -- talked about her experience of the day as a 16-year-old. She casually talked about how they all went to a friend's house and got blind drunk. And everyone on the panel sorta said, in effect, "oh, yeah, me too". And then they traded stories about how bad the cheap alcohol was they bought as (underage) teenagers and how sick it all made them.

All in the vein of "oh, ha-ha, the hijinks we got up to as (underage) teenagers!".

Example 3:

From talking to guys here -- adults -- it is a given (particularly among the 18-30 year old set) that you will drink as much as you can till the pub closes, then you will get into a fist fight ("to blow off all that excess energy" as one friend put it), body parts will be bloodied/broken, and then you'll go home. And do it again tomorrow or at least next weekend. And you will do it every time you go out. It's "just the way it is".

Seriously? Getting the shit kicked out of you every weekend is both "the way it is" and ... a good time???

Example 4:

Jeff has noted that in his office it's not unusual for a group of guys to go out for lunch together and have a beer. Except that, according to very strong social custom, each guy has to buy a round (a "shout"). If there's 3 guys, you drink 3 beers. If there's 5 guys, you drink 5 beers.

So, every few weeks, a group of guys go get drunk at lunch and then go back to the office and don't get much done for the rest of the day. I don't have the impression that's so very unusual.



There is no way I can write this and not be judgmental. Because...

I'm an American woman of the 21st century and my life has coincided with a major shift in my culture's attitude towards alcohol.

* Drinking and driving.
* Drinking at work.
* Binge drinking.
* Drinking and rape. (One Australian friend was stunned at my explanation of how the problem of date/party rape -- usually tied to drinking -- is gaining such visibility on US campuses. He assumed it rarely happened here. I suggested it's more likely grossly under-reported here.).

I also come from a long line of alcoholics. Not my dad (thank God) but his father and his uncle and his grandfather and his great-grandfather (and possibly back further than that but the records are unavailable). I've seen what it does to a person and to every single relationship they touch.

I am not amused. I don't think it's funny. I don't think it makes a great TV comedy. I think it just makes a hell of a lot of money for therapists.

I don't drink much. What I think I inherited from that long line of alcoholics is a low tolerance for booze. I get drunk quickly. Since I don't like being drunk, I don't drink much.

I'm married to a guy who drinks much more than I do (though that's not setting the bar very high, admittedly). We have to talk with each other about that from time to time, checking that I'm still OK with his alcohol consumption. And he's promised to listen to me if I ever say "enough". I trust him.

I've known more than one woman who's been the victim of date rape. In one friend's case, she's been raped twice and alcohol was a factor both times.

That's all by way of saying I'm coming into this culture with my own biases and lenses. I know that. But daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn these people drink a lot! And they think it's OK and I'm not sure I agree.

The Cage Match: Aussie English vs. American English

When Americans fantasize about living in foreign country, they often cite Australia as a place they'd like to go because "they speak the same language". Ah, not exactly. What follows is a list of some of the dissimilar phrases and my vote for which is the more practical phrase.

American: cotton candy
Aussie: fairy floss
Winner: Australian

Let's face it, what it really is is "spun sugar" but where's the poetry and imagination in that? If you think about the phrase "cotton candy" literally, it's not actually appealing. "Fairy floss", on the other hand, brings to mind images of Tinkerbell and her little bitty teeth.

American: sweater
Aussie: jumper
Winner: tie

Neither one makes literal sense. Americans have the "pull-over" vs. "button up" sweater confusion. Aussies have a similar problem. Call it a draw.

American: carry-out
Aussie: take-away
Winner: tie

Both factual, graphic, and accurate.

American: cookie
Aussie: biscuit
Winner: American

I'm biased on this one but I'm going American because then what do you call a baked item used in strawberry shortcake and with breakfast gravy? Hmmmmmmmm........?


American: hood
Aussie: bonnet
Winner: American (but it's close)

They both evoke things worn on the head but I hear "bonnet" and I think "Pride and Prejudice". But on a similar note...

American: trunk
Aussie: boot
Winner: tie. But let's do one more car term...

American: windshield
Aussie: windscreen
Winner: American

It's not screening the wind so much as shielding us from it, but this is another "close" call.

American: bell pepper
Aussie: capsicum
Winner: Australian

We frequently short-cut it to "pepper" and that can create a lot of confusion. "Capsicum" is much more precise.

American: lots
Aussie: heaps and/or mobs
Winner: Australian

"Heaps" refers to (generally) a lot of things. "Mobs" refers (generally) to a lot of people. More visual, more precise. Points to the Aussies.

American: arugula
Aussie: rocket
Winner: tie

Neither one makes sense.

American: (buying) a round
Aussie: (doing) a shout
Winner: American

I can visualize buying for a table, which may be round, or taking a tally "around" the table about who wants another drink. Not as clear on the "shout". But, let it be noted, leaving before you've bought your "shout" is a major faux pas!

American: tank top
Aussie: singlet
Winner: Australian, by a hair

I can't come up with any explantion for "tank top". I can sorta kinda for singlet....the "..let" is a diminutive, the shirt is diminutive...not sure about the "sing...". Anyways, Australia by a hair.

oomPAH!

Brisbane had a two-weekend Oktoberfest earlier this month. It was just a few blocks from Jeff's office, so you know his co-workers were there! We weren't around the first weekend so Jeff just had to join them the second weekend.

Jeff and co. got there around 4 when it opened. I met up with them about 5. It was held on the RNA Showgrounds, which is an arena that specializes in the Ekka (sort of a county fair) and agricultural shows. It was a very rainy day so there was a light but distinct odor of....sheep shit. Mmmmmmm.......farm yard!

There were a half-dozen white food tents as well as a "costume rental" tent (think drindls and lederhosen). There was also one veeeeeeeeeeery large white tent full of tables, beer stalls, and a stage. The whole area was muddy but it was also, blessedly, dry inside the tents.

The boys were already well into the beer. The tent was about 75% full and people kept pouring in till I left about 9 pm. It was probably 80% guys and 20% women. The table next to us was actually a group of young women, all of whom had rented the ladies costume.

Now, imagine one of these costumes. Heeled shoes, long white stockings that stop about mid-thigh, short felted skirts with under-garments to fluff everything up, snug little lace-up vest that stops just below the breasts with a thin drawstring white blouse under the vest. And then the girls start dancing/bouncing to the band.

Bouncing. Looooooots of bouncing. As you can imagine, the guys were trying to tacitly not be transfixed. They, um, failed.

The beer was OK but not spectacular. I ended up just drinking out of Jeff's stein all night.

I got to meet Jeff's co-workers for the first time and in an environment where they're all...happy. And uninhibited. Very uninhibited. Yeah, it was a good time!

The band was pretty pro. Their German numbers sound quite good. However, they spent about 90% of their time covering tunes from the 70s and 80s, a lot of it from the US. On the whole, that wasn't too bad. But, I gotta say, predominantly male Australian-German oompah bands should not cover:

John Denver's "Country Roads". It was downright painful to listen to a room full of drunk Australians mangling references to "Blue Ridge mountains".

Tina Turner's "Proud Mary". Oh, wrong. Just wrong!

I left about 9. The volume in the room was as loud as you might imagine (conversations only possible through shouting) and my ears were pretty much done. Jeff had originally planned to leave with me but, no surprises, he decided to stay. He didn't make it to closing time -- midnight -- with the rest of the guys but he was still good and toasty when he got home.

Yes, Jeff works with guys who can all out-drink him!

I Can't Give It Away

One of my intentions when I moved to Australia was to volunteer. Why?

1. Because it's a good way to maintain perspective.
2. It's a good way to meet local people.
3. It's something I don't get to do much of in DC because I'm so busy.
4. It's an interesting way to get to know a place.

My thoughts were "food bank" or "small theater" or "museum". This is proving to be really difficult to do.

For one thing, a lot of the organizations that depend on volunteers in the US seem to have sufficent financial support (I'm kinda assuming through the government?) that they don't seem to need volunteers here.

I asked a local guy I've met through the Brisbane Couchsurfers group about this. He admitted that it can be a challenge. He said there's actualy more people who want to volunteer in Australia than there are volunteer opportunties!

When I've looked online, I've found a lot of "aggregator" sites that take a volunteer's information and offer to help you connect with a volunteer opportunity....after you fill out an application, submit a volunteer "resume", validate your insurance status, and go through a background check! Eep!

Finally, the volunteer opportunties I do find seem to be geared to long-term arrangements. Not a lot of opportunity for one-time or drop-in/unskilled labor options.

Keeping looking....

To Market, To Market

Australia seems to have a pretty robust "market" thing going on. Here in the Brisbane there are both traditional farmers markets as well as crafts markets. Eumundi, where my friends Ben and Andrea live, has a huge crafts market (it's a bona fide tourist attraction!).

Downtown Brisbane has a weekly farmers market on Brisbane Square, right next to the library, on Wednesdays. I've gotten into the habit of cruising for fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, and cheese. They've also got oils, nuts, prepared foods, candy, herbs, pasta, and a host of other things.

Today has been gray and overcast with intermittent rain but I decided I'd go anyways. And I got caught in a downpour! Of course, I didn't have my rain hat or rain coat with me. But I was able to hang out under one of the vendors stalls until it cleared enough for me to dash home.

Here are some of my pictures from it.

I Think I'm Really Here

This past weekend we went back up to Eumundi to visit our friend Andrea. She was performing in a community orchestra on Sunday and we wanted to see it. Jeff, pointedly, suggested that maybe I should do the driving since I've been studiously avoiding it here. I did, we didn't crash, and I didn't break down in tears or threaten the life of another driver, not even once. We'll call that "success".

We met Andrea mid-day and spent the afternoon with her. After shuttling children to appropriate playmates, she drove us over to Noosaville and Noosa Beach. Since Christmas comes in the middle of summer, it is a long-standing Aussie tradition to spend some or all of Christmas week at the beach. Jeff's office is closed between Christmas and New Years so we're thinking of doing the same. Andrea drove us through the two adjacent towns giving us an overview of the area and lodging options.

We stopped in to visit with her in-laws in Noosa Beach. Peter and Maree suggested that the condo next door is owned by an out-of-towner who doesn't make it up often and might be interested in letting us rent it for Christmas. We agreed that would be nice and they've been talking to the owner for us since then.

We then went to have dinner with Andrea's friends, Josh and Tara. They are both Americans (from Iowa) who have lived in Australia for 10 years or more. Tara is even Lutheran it turns out (which is not surprising if you're familiar with the demographics of Lutherans; Iowa is thick with them).

They made burritos and we hung out on their verandah. A lot of the houses here have deep verandahs where people spend a lot of time. We tried to catch sight of their “flying foxes”, which are like a bat but much larger. Maybe the size of a squirrel. We heard them and saw them silhouetted against the night sky but never got a good look at one. Tara and Josh say they are actually pretty cute.

I think both Josh and Tara would like to be back in the US but can't at the moment. Andrea's husband, Ben, is Australian but Andrea is an American who grew up in the DC suburbs. So we were an All-American team that night. I think it was good for all of us.

I know that the next morning when I woke up, my first thought was not "I'm in Australia", which is what it has been for the last two months. It was just "oh, yeah, I'm at Ben and Andrea's" and I felt comfortable with that, the same way I would waking up at a friend's house in the US.

Australia is becoming, slowly, known and comfortable to me. I'm beginning to feel like I am part of a network of people who I can call friends, even if quite a few of them are 90 minutes north rather than here in Brisbane. :) It's still not "home" the way DC is "home". Two months is just not nearly long enough. Six months won't be either. I've been in DC and it's suburbs for more than 25 years, after all.

But I'm feeling more and more like I've got my feet under me and I can relax a little. Andrea has gone a long way in making that happen, consciously sharing her cirle of friends, particularly other ex-pats. I'm grateful to her efforts. They have worked!

So, Where You From?

It's not hard to pick up, once you hear me speak, that I ain't from 'round here. I can't fake an Australian accent on my best day (what they do to vowels boggles my mind; I think they have extra hinges in their jaws and soft palates.).

If people don't automatically assume I'm Canadian, they'll ask me where I'm from. How would you answer that question?

Well, you'd probably answer "the United States" or "the US" because that's how we refer to our country when we're talking about it as a geographical or political entity.

The rest of the world? They call it "America". I don't think I've yet heard an Australian call it the United States until after they'd heard me use that phrase, and then it sounds awkward coming from them.

It would sound (and feel) equally awkward for me to say "America" if someone asked me where I'm from. It just doesn't feel right rolling off the tongue in response to the question. But I use "America" all the time when I'm talking about our culture or our people.

"A small taste of America."
"Only in America....."
"What will America do...."
"The people of America...."

I realized today that "America" has more emotional and psychological heft for me than "the United States". Of course, it's also shorter and quicker but that's not all there is to it.

It's a bit like the difference between using a first and last name, for me. "United States" is our formal name, the one you'll find on our mailbox (or on a map). "America" is our first name and the name I use when talking more...personally. Y'know, once we've been properly introduced.

Just an observation along the way.....

Smells Like Spring Spirit

While you are all ogling the lovely orange/red leaves and pumpkins, we are moving crisply into spring here in Brisbane. And it is as lovely as I hoped it would be.

It's also wet. It rained for most of the last week and it's supposed to start raining again tomorrow for a couple of days. Since we live on a river....well, that makes life just a tad more interesting (but it also makes me glad I live on the 16th floor). There has been a lot of flooding.

In fact, there was a news report this morning that the powers-that-be have had to release some valves on a dam to let some water out. Combined with the high tide expected later today on the Brisbane River, my afternoon river walk could be kinda damp. I'll let you know how that works out!

But yesterday I had a perfectly lovely sunny day to enjoy. I had a morning massage over in New Farm (the next suburb). We finished about 11:30 and it was such a pretty day -- and I was soooo in need of a leg-stretching walk -- that I decided to follow the footpath along the river back to home.

The footpath does stray away from the river in some places but in general it goes along the river for several miles. At mid-day, it was surprisingly busy. Cyclists, walkers, joggers, mums with prams, kids on scooters. There was even a woman in a dark business suit and heels out for a walk. Given how far away I was at that point from an office, I was kinda impressed.

The only problem with this walk was that they 90-minute massage I'd just had was deep. I mean reeeeeally deep and heavily focused on my ... legs. He was doing some myofascial work (including working on some percolating shin splints) and it hurt. A lot. Like hell. It was as close as I've ever come to kicking a therapist and, honest, it would have been just a reflex. (Honest!)

I thought taking a 3 or 4 mile stroll would actually be good for me. Blood flow. Warm up the muscles. Get a little exercise. Get lots of sunlight.

4 miles later, my hamstrings were threatening to spasm. Fortunately, "4 miles later" is also when I got to my apartment. I took one more trip out to the mid-week farmers market in the library square but that was it for my legs and feet yesterday. I stretched and even spent a little time in the building hot tub (which, to be honest, should be called the moderately-warm-tub).

On the other hand, everything feels better today. I'll let you know how I do after the rising-river walk.