Cross That Off The List

When we came to Australia I had a few goals and I was, finally, able to tick one of them off my list this week (just in the nick of time!).

As many of you know, I have a strong aversion to snakes. Actually, more like a phobia. Moving to a country with some of the deadliest snakes in the world didn't help. On top of that, the Risby-Jones family (I am co-authoring a book with the father, Ben) likes snakes. They own two pythons (not the gigantic ones, smaller ones) and have often been visited by the big mamma-jamma pythons when they had chickens (apparently a chicken coop looks just like a McDonald's drive-thru to a big python).

My goal before I left Australia was to actually hold one of their smaller pythons (known affectionately as Billy Slater, after a Brisbane rugby player). I did it on Sunday (I also got to witness the other one pooping but that's a story for another time).



I think I had hoped that actually holding a snake (for, like, 5 minutes!) would somehow cure me of my phobia. I'm not as phobic as I once was but snakes still make me incredibly nervous.

I think I hoped I would find them oddly beautiful and fascinating. Eh.....they're not butt-ugly but they still don't awe or inspire me.

The chief problem is that I am hopelessly mammalian and they are hopelessly reptilian. We don't think alike, we don't communicate alike, we don't react to the world in a similar fashion, and their teeth are way the hell sharper than mine (and their reflexes off the charts as far as I'm concerned).

I find them inscrutable and vaguely untrustworthy. I can not imagine establishing or experiencing a "link" with them. Plus, their eyes still freak me out. I mean, really freak me out. I cannot look them in the eye. Sorta like vampires.

But It Has Been Done! I have held a snake (sorry, Charlie, but I had to). I don't know if I'll do it again but now I know I won't die from a heart attack if I have to. That's helpful. :)

The Object of Their Obsession

Back on Easter weekend, I was at a marina with Jeff, waiting to meet someone. We started talking to the woman at the next table. When she found out we were Americans, she began talking at length about her travels in the US, her observations about the US, her thoughts about race relations in the US, etc.

This just happens every now and then. Several times in the past year, we've met people who had a lot to say about the US when the found out we were Americans. Only once did it get sort of confrontational. The other times it was only clear that these people had thought a lot about the US as an international power, as a creator and exporter of cultural values, as a melting pot, as a concept, as an example (good and bad), etc.

Australians, on average, spend more time thinking about the US than you might imagine. Not all Australians and not all the time. But we are a subject of reflection, contemplation, revulsion, admiration....well, we just are a subject.

It's rare to watch TV news shows or daytime talk shows that don't mention the US at some point. All the morning news/talk shows have a segment on entertainment and it's always from the US it seems.

Does this mean Australia universally loves us and wants to be just like us? Oh, hell no! There is a lot of conflict in the relationship between Australia and the US (at least for the Australians). They believe they must maintain a buddy-buddy relationship militarily because we're the only thing that will protect them from the marauding hordes of Indonesians / Muslims / Chinese / North Koreans / villian-of-your-choice who could come swarming across their borders any minute! Yet they (like so many) are not keen about our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, especially when Diggers (the Aussie equivalent of "GI") die there.

They watch the way America has dealt with African Americans and Native Americans and wonder if we're doing a better or worse job than they are with their Aboriginal citizens. They seem a bit confused, sometimes assuming that the Aboriginal status is most like the African American status because both cultures refer to themselves as "black". In fact, the more accurate comparision would be to Native Americans.

They love shopping for American products online now that the Aussie dollar is so strong but resent that it's tough to "buy Australian" since American products often dominate.

Like to travel to the US (especially Las Vegas! Oh, how they love Las Vegas!) but get fretful if American tourism drops. They seem to attach much more value to American tourism than to European or Asian tourism, though it seems from my limited experience that Asian and European tourism is a much stronger stream. I get the impression they look at American tourism as more validating.

Love their Maccas (McDonalds) and KFC but deeply resent the intrusion of American holidays like Halloween.

There are plenty of Aussies who can blissfully go days, weeks, and possibly even months without thinking about America. But I'd bet there are very few Aussies who never think about the US. Or form an opinion about us.

The best part about living outside your own country for a while is getting an outsiders perspective on it. If you were to form an opinion of the US based solely on TV coverage and Facebook, you'd probably come to the conclusion that it's a gigantic loony bin! We are....different, very different from Australia.

Fresh Air Fiends

Picture this: it's the time of the year when the days are in the 60s and the nights are in the low 40s. You decide to go out for dinner after dark; the temps are in the high 50s. About half the restaurant's tables are inside and the other half are on the sidewalk.

Do you want a table inside or outside? If you're an Aussie, it could as easily be one as the other!

Honestly, I am continually amazed by the Aussie devotion to eating outside even when it's much chillier than the average American would ever choose for outside dining. Sure, they have those tall propane heater thingies but I've seen more than one Aussie fully done up in coat, gloves, scarf, and hat choosing the outside table.

The guy who was Jeff's predecessor on this contract (another American from the DC suburbs) mumbled darkly about being tired of eating outside when he left. I thought he was just being grumpy. Now I understand.

I finally asked the women in my meditation group about this. They, somewhat sheepishly, admitted that Australians are a little obsessed with "fresh air". They loathe being in a room without access to a window they can open. One woman admitted that when she visits her daughter in London she can only stand to leave the windows closed on the coldest of days and even then it's a struggle.

I think this may be part of why they have been reluctant to adopt some of the energy-saving construction methods that are standard in the US -- double-paned windows, insulation, etc. While these sorts of things (and the a/c and heating systems they support) are useful they also lead to "closed" buildings.

The truth is that many of us in the US rarely interact with air that isn't treated in some way (heated or cooled, humidified or de-humidified) and we go from one closed environment to another -- our sealed houses to our sealed cars to our sealed offices.

That would drive your average Aussie nuts. Sure, they have to deal with bugs, flies, etc. more than we do but they accept that these are a normal part of life. And theirs are more likely to be lethal than ours!

So if you've got Aussies coming over for dinner, you might want to open a window or two. :)

Why I Wanted To Walk Away

17 more sleeps till I step on a Qantas flight to return my well-rounded tush to Washington DC. I say that with a sigh.

I will admit that when Jeff told me about our chance to live in Australia for 6-12 months, one of the thoughts that zipped through my mind was "oh, hell yes, I'd love to walk away from a few things for a while". I bet we all have things in our life that we'd like an excuse to walk away from, even for just a little bit.

And it has been nice, I admit it. But in the last couple of weeks my DC life has resurrected itself in all its messiness, all its joys, all its pains.

Prison. A dear friend is going to prison in October for a federally-mandated minimum of five years. I received a letter from him today, handwritten since he's on the equivalent of house arrest and is not allowed access to a computer. I laid my hands on it before I read it, knowing that his hands had also touched it and it's as close as we can get right now. Handwritten letters have that power; email does not.

He's being honest about where he is and what life is about for him right now. He's also being honest about the people that have stepped up to tell him that he still matters to them, even people who were merely co-workers before. That made me cry. I intend to visit him as often as I can for these 5 or more years.

Surgery. My mom is very anxious to have surgery to replace an artificial knee that has quit working. Both her health and her age make this a difficult decision and it falls on we three daughters to, ultimately, make the decision. Surgery will be preceeded by a pile of doctors appointments (which we have to arrange and attend) and followed by up to a year of PT (which we will have to support her through, which historically has been nightmarish). If the doctors agree, it will still be a difficult decision to make and we may have to say "no", despite how desperately Mom wants it.

On top of that, both Jeff and one of my sisters also need surgery this fall.

Organizational chaos. An organization I am deeply engaged in, even 9500 miles away, is going through another spasm of change, thanks to a firing. The person fired is a friend (and someone I've come to depend on), the people doing the firing are friends, the larger community (who are divided about this) are friends. In responding to what I know of the events, I've managed to hurt some people deeply. This organization is struggling and I desperately want them to survive the challenges facing them. The chaos continues.

Disintegrating relationships. Our housemate -- with whom we own our house -- has been retreating more and more into her self for a couple of years. This last year she effectively disconnected from us, not returning our emails or letters or answering our phone calls. We had to have our mail forwarded to another friend since we discovered we couldn't rely on our housemate to keep us updated or forward our mail.

That's not the relationship we all aspired to when we decided to live together. I don't know that I have to do anything about this when I get home other than accept that it's unlikely to get better.

And, oh yeah, I need to re-build my practice.

New opportunities. Going home means also going back to some exciting stuff, professionally -- workshops, books, teaching, and new partnerships. Those all require a lot of work, planning, and organizing but I am excited about them.

There are other things that will make it good to be back home but my escape from my DC responsibilities is about to come to an end. Back to the real world...

Hey There Pilgrim

The congregation I've been attending -- St. Michael and All Angels Anglican -- has been hosting a series of travelogues by members and discussing travel as a form of pilgrimmage. We've discussed members trips to Jerusalem, Rome, and Vietnam.

Along the way, we've delineated what makes a trip more than a trip; what makes a trip a pilgrimmage? Some conclusions.

* A pilgrim travels lighter than a tourist, often choosing to leave favorite items behind.
* The trip involves "letting go" in some fashion.
* The focus is much more on the journey than the destination.
* The pilgrim must move outside of their comfort zone and journey into the new.
* The trip is to somewhere new.
* The traveler must be willing to trust strangers more than we might normally.

As I thought about this list it dawned on me that the last year has been a pilgrimmage for me. Brisbane is not normally thought of as a pilgrimmage destination but since it's about the journey rather than the destination I supposed anywhere can work if you have the right conditions.

We had to travel light. Because this was an "assignment" rather than a "relocation" we could only bring with us what we could pack in suitcases and convince American Airlines to check. We chose to leave a lot of things behind. We have been wearing the same clothes for a year. We have chosen not to buy some of the things we miss, deciding to just learn to live without them.

I had to let go of my professional life as I understood it up to the point of departure. I'd spent 10 years building my massage practice but I walked away from it. I will only know what remains to return to in a month when I open my massage doors again.

While I do like Brisbane -- a lot -- the important parts of this year have been about the changes we have gone through by being so far away from home, outside our comfort zone, into a new place and culture. That's where we've had the most challenges and that's where we've had the most fun.

Along the way, we have had many opportunities to form relationships with strangers and to trust strangers. We have not been disappointed yet.

At the end of each presentation at church we have asked the presenter "how are you different for having taken this pilgrimmage?" We've gotten some good answers. I don't know what my answers are yet. I probably won't know until I get full re-settled into my life in DC and have a chance to notice the differences.