Same Same but Different, 29 Nov 12

Aussies use a lot of words that Americans use, but not always with the same meaning. A couple examples:

1. Diary
My first week of work, my boss kept asking me to put things we were talking about at work in my diary. "You need to schedule meetings or coffee with these folks and get them in your diary." "At the end of the month we'll have PhD week.  All our PhD students will present over lunch, and we'll have some social occasions. It'll be a good time to figure out who you'll be advising. You'll want to put that in your diary." Now I am in favor of my boss being interested in my personal life to some extent, like helping me find a place to live. But telling me what to put in my diary seemed a bit much. And I like to think of it as a journal, anyway. Diaries are for teenage girls and come with shiny brass locks on them... right? Turns out, in Australia your calendar is your diary. So it was really all about putting things on my schedule.

2. Napkin
This week has been the PhD week which has included a variety of activities. Over lunch each day two PhD students have presented on their dissertation work. Today the dean came for the lunchtime presentations. In appearance, he reminds me of a triathlete version of Bill Nighy. He's ram-rod straight, dignified, Melbourne born and bred, and a hard core scientist. He was part of the team that invented the bionic ear. We've met a few times. (He is keeping count of how many times, I think because I didn't come to see him my first week here, as I had been instructed to do. In my defense, he was on leave.) I quite like him. I invited him to sit next to me, which he did. He had a bagel sandwich, which looked like it had the potential to be messy. So I said, "Do you want me to grab you a napkin?" As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I remembered my uncle who lived for years in Papua New Guinea saying to me, "Never say napkin. Say serviette." And I thought to myself, "Did I just offer to fetch the dean a feminine hygiene product?" This might explain the slightly longer than necessary pause before he said, "No. I'll be fine...Oh, look they gave me one with my sandwich." I thought about asking him if I had just asked him what I thought I'd asked him, but thought the better of it. I think if we hadn't been in a room full of PhD students who are supposed to think I'm venerable enough to supervise them, I probably would have. Probably good not to put a second nail in the coffin when I'm still inside my first month. Look, Dad, sometimes I DO make the right choice.

Bucketing Rain, 27 Nov 2012

Yesterday morning it was BUCKETING rain when I got up. I heard later from others that there had also been a loud and bright thunderstorm, which I completely missed. My little apartment is on the ground floor so the only thing I've heard at night is Aggie the yowling cat. (I think she's sad the undergrads have all gone for the summer.) Someone at work said she (this person, not that cat) was walking down the street and there was a crack of thunder so loud it set of all the nearby car alarms and lightning so strong she could feel it crackling in the air. Time to look for cover in the nearest building?

I decided I'd wait for it to let up a bit before I walked over to the dining hall for breakfast because the rain usually doesn't last that long here (in my 3 weeks of experience). This would also be why I haven't bothered to buy an umbrella. Well, that and they don't seem to keep my that much more dry than a rain coat. It let up, I went to breakfast, came back, and more buckets of rain.I started to think maybe an umbrella would be a good idea. Since I didn't have a meeting until 1030, I just worked at home and waited for it to let up. And waited. And waited. Finally when I set off to work about 10a it had settled to a few drips here and there. When I got off the elevator at work, this is the sight that greeted me:
Maybe it's time to take the hint.

The Transporter 2, 26 Nov 2012

So I had another walkabout weekend - Saturday looking for places to live on the north side of the city, Sunday looking for where I'm moving to at the end of the week on the south side of the city. I'm sure you'll all be relieved to know that I've gotten the hang of the trams, AND the buses and trains. (Trains are the easiest.) I actually made it to all the places I wanted to see, and a couple extra because one of the real estate agents gave me a ride in her car after I saw her at two different places in an hour and a half. Who says Aussie realtors aren't the helpful type?

Since the trams run in the middle of the street they have an ad campaign to get cars and pedestrians to PAY ATTENTION. Usually this consists of a poster at the tram stop of a rhino on a skateboard. But I saw this on Sunday:

"In anyone's language, a tram weighs as much as 30 rhinos."

 Not as fun as this advertisement that's sweeping the web:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJNR2EpS0jw&sns=fb
but still attention getting.

The Transporter, 25 Nov 2012

I decided before I moved here that I would not buy a car, at least for the first year. Everyone is driving on the opposite side of the road, I'm investing a huge chunk of my savings to pay for the move (even though I'll eventually get reimbursed), and Melbourne has pretty good public transport. And I've always wanted to be one of those people with a small carbon footprint and the physique like I bike to work everyday. Mostly I've been walking (my bike and the rest of my stuff won't be here until January).

Last week I went out for dinner with John and Janet (husband of boss and boss). We took my first ever tram ride out toward their house and found a restaurant. When we were done, they told me I just had to hop on the tram (which runs on rails like a train and uses electricity) outside the door, ride back into town two stops, and then hop on the 19 tram out to where I'm staying. No problem. Janet walked me out to the tram (which stops in the middle of the street, so it feels a bit tricky to get on), and waved me off. She looked concerned. I thought, "how hard can this be?"

I made it back to where John, Janet and I started out with ease and hopped off the tram.  While I was waiting for the next tram, I thought, "Well, I could walk home from here, but it's about time I learn how to do this tram thing. I'll download that cool app John and Janet have to track the trams while I'm waiting." So I'm tinkering with my phone, and the tram comes, and I hop on. Now it's a straight shot from that station up to where I'm staying. The train goes two stops and then takes a big left turn and heads out into the night. It's 10:30. I've been in town for 9 days. The trams don't say anything inside them to give any indication of which tram you're on (should you happen to be one of those folks who apparently got on the wrong tram), or to tell you what the next stop is, so you can look at the map inside the tram and figure it out. Fortunately, I had figured out the map function on my phone, so I pulled it up, found the little blue arrow that was me, and figured out I could hop out at the next stop and walk home 8 blocks or so. It was a lovely night, and a quiet neighborhood, and I just made sure that little blue arrow on my phone stayed headed for home.

Since then, I have waited on the wrong side of tram stop (because they go the opposite direction, just like traffic) at least once a day. A nice woman on the tram showed me how to get the card reader to see my card when she watched me fiddling around for 2 minutes (at least there wasn't a line behind me). I have gotten on the wrong tram 3-4 times because I forgot to look at the tram number, or didn't remember which number I needed.  I keep trying to go to house inspections and missing them because I miscalculate how long it will take, or get on the wrong tram, or get off the tram and then go the wrong direction. The blue arrow is not always helpful. And so far the only life I've put at risk has been my own - which definitely would not have been the case if I were driving.I have gotten to see a lot of the city, though.

By the time I get visitors, I should have this figured out. Well, maybe by the next visitors after Jean...

The First Thanksgiving, 22 Nov 12

My first Thanksgiving in Melbourne didn't feel much like Thanksgiving - sunny, 65 degrees, leafy trees, blooming gardens, green cricket ovals. And I have a total stuffy head all the time (if I don't take allergy meds) because of all the pollen in the air.

In the spirit of the day, the American and 3 Scots went out for gelato from Brunneti's Italian on Lygon Street a 15 minute walk from where we're staying. It was delicious. And a lot easier than turkey and dressing. :) They asked me how thanksgiving started, I gave a pretty poor answer involving Abe Lincoln (who made it an official holiday). Susan said, "Deedn't it have to do with the Meyflewer?" So I added the pilgrims. It's been awhile since elementary school...

 Tommy (red hair) and Peter have been my breakfast companions for the past few weeks, Susan I met that evening. Tommy said to wish all of you a good thanks giving. Oh, and I added one of me at the end. :)

Whingeing Pom, 21 Nov 12

Almost every morning, I get to eat breakfast with a Scotsman who's studying here in Melbourne and also staying at University College. Part of our conversation often involves me asking him to explain some phrase he's used that I don't understand. Sometimes it's the accent. Sometimes I just don't get it. Yesterday morning I was talking to him about a colleague who had complained to me about the new building our offices are in. (They are very corporate, I'll post a picture). In response, the Scotsman said, "Oh, ee's a whingeing pom."
"A what?"
"Whinge-ing pom. P-O-M"
"I don't know what that means."
"Hmmm, weill, whingeing - that's liek whining or complaining."
"Ok. But what's a pom?"
"Pris-o-ner a' her Mehjesty" or "Pris-o-ner a' Mether Angland."

I laughed out loud - it's such a suitable phrase for so many academics, whether they are Brits or not. (Turns out it's also the acronym they used to put on convicts' clothes back in the days of the British Empire.)

We continued our conversation about moving and new buildings and how they often have a whole set of new problems, and how the architects ask what you want and then completely ignore it. He was describing how that happened at his work back in Scotland, and then said, "Weill, now I'm a Whingeing Tom." For the life of me I couldn't figure out what acronym TOM could possibly stand for.
"Whingeing Tom?"
"Yeh, yi know, bicause that's my name. Tommie."
"Ah. yes. I did know that."

A self-deprecating Scotsman and a slow, slow, American. This feels like the start of one of those jokes...

Australia's Natural Born Killers, 19 Nov 12

When I got offered the job here at Melbourne Uni, I was in Cambridge, MA doing some training. I hit the COOP (the Harvard bookstore) and picked up a copy of Bill Bryson's In a Sunburned Country. I read it cover to cover. He starts out by listing all the various reptiles, jelly fish, fish, spiders, and other creatures that are deadly. Apparently Australia has more than any other continent. My bro-in-law Steve, who lived here for two years, chimed in with other creatures, like the dangerous drop bear, that I needed to beware of on my adventures. In honor of those two wise men, I thought I would include pictures of the two deadly creatures I see on my way to and from work.

Aggie the cat lives at University College. She enjoys laying in the sun on parked cars, relaxing in the mulch pile, and guarding the garden shed. We tend to have a Mexican stand off (or maybe its an outback stand off) on the sidewalk in the evening when I am coming back to my flat, with only three results so far. 1) She will sniff my hand when I offer it, and then stalk off. 2) She will give me the evil eye, and then keep moving a few steps ahead of me. 3) She will let me scratch her head while she ignores me. She does not respond to "Gato!" She also doesn't respond to "Aggie." I did see one of the undergrads cuddling her, so apparently she likes some people. Just not me. Cats.














I haven't learned this fellow's name, but he has a prime spot right next to the sidewalk along Royal Parade (one of the main streets near campus). He doesn't bark or whine. Just hangs out in his corner waiting for his friends to stop by and give him a scratch. He usually has the undergraduate girls, cute elderly couples, and newly appointed senior lecturers lining up to give him some love. (Don't tell Maxx.) Yesterday, this mellow fellow gave a hearty tail wag when he saw me, which made me glad. A happy-to-see-me dog is one of my favorite things in the whole world. Speaking of, if you haven't read "Because of Wynn-Dixie" I recommend it!.

In$anity

The first Monday I after I arrived I set up a bank account. That Friday I got my debit card in the mail and that night I set up my PIN. Saturday, I went on a tourist adventure involving the free bus around downtown. (FYI, this is a terrible choice on Saturday afternoon if you like air. Being tall, and having only room to stand, I could at least see out. But there were lots of people who could only see various parts of other people's anatomy. I rode the bus 3 stops and by the way south side of town I'd had enough, got off, and proceeded to walk back through the bustling downtown to home.)

On my walk, I saw an ATM for my new bank, and thought I'd give the new card a test run. Mind you, this is not the first time I've used an ATM in a foreign country (unlike my dad, who has yet to use an ATM in any country). I understand how they work. Or so I thought. I put in my card, entered my PIN, took a moment to congratulate myself for remembering my PIN, pushed "cheque," chose the amount, waited for the cash and instead got: "This account is not configured for ATM access." What? I tried again, same result.

Monday I am cruising on campus to hit the bike shop and whatnot, and I remembered that one of the times I was lost on campus I saw a branch for my bank. After a bit of hunting, I found it again, used the ATM inside and same result. Two lovely young gents who work for the bank were loitering around waiting for customers. So I said to them, "I've just opened an account, got my card, set up my PIN, and I keep trying to get cash, but it's not working. Clearly I am doing something wrong."

"What button are you pushing? Savings or cheque?"

"Cheque" of course. I'm thinking, it says 'DEBIT' right on it. What else would it be?

"Well, if you only have one account with us..."

 "I do"

"Then it's a savings. That's the day to day account all banks use."

I marched right back over to the ATM, pushed savings, and viola. It hadn't even occurred to me that it could be opposite. The 22 year old banking gents were mildly embarrassed. It may have been on my behalf. Insanity, I've heard, is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Learning apparently involves more experimentation, and the possibility of minor humiliation...

Sin Here

A bit of a translation incident at the chemist's (pharmacy) on campus the other day. I was purchasing a tram pass, and using my bank card. Now sometimes bankcards are accepted, but many times it's cash only here. The cashier and I had just settled that I could use my card, so I swiped it and the cashier said, "PIN or sin?"

"Did it not go through?"

"Yeeh, it did. PIN or sin?"
  

I thought, "Is sin some kind of other Australian way of using your credit card? What kind of sin is required?  Does it have to match the size of the purchase? If I'm loading my card with $20 what kind of sin would be appropriate?"

I said, "Could you say that again?"

"PIN or sin?"

"Ok, I just arrived here from America, and I don't always understand the Australian accent."

"I'm from Ireland." 

Long pause...

"PIN or sin?" 

Me, furrowed brow, still confused. 

Seemingly a bit surly now she said, "Enter your PIN or sin the form?"

"Oh - SIGN. I'd like to sign, please." 

 Turns out yes, it's just like in America - it's PIN or SIGN. No sinning required.

Opposites 2: Scaregirl

When I walked past this garden near my apartments (trying to find a back way out of the fence around the place) I thought, "Why do they have a crow as a scarecrow? That's backward." Then I remembered I'm Australia and most things are opposite. Then the bird blinked, turned his head, and looked right at me! Turns out down here the birds do the scaring.

Opposite of Attract

Yes, the automobile traffic in Australia is opposite of that in the US. But that's not all. When I first arrived at the Melbourne airport, I had my suitcases in one of those large, sort of unwieldy shopping cart-like things. I made it away from the baggage carousel and through customs without difficulty, but when I got out into the airport proper, I just couldn't seem to make any headway. I had this very salmon-like feeling - the whole world was upstream. And then I realized I was on the right and going directly against the Australian foot traffic. I switched to the left and suddenly the whole world was just carrying me along. I thought this would carry over to sidewalks, but that doesn't seem to be the case - they're sort of a free for all.

Here's something else I discovered was opposite by trying to go the the American way (i.e. up is on the right). (If you're getting this via email, you might have to go to the actual blog to see the attached video: g4ceinoz.blogspot.com)

Altogether Lovely, 8 Nov 2012

A stateside friend asked me today if Melbourne is as beautiful as the travel ads say. While there are fewer attractive, shirtless men than a single straight girl might desire, it really is beautiful. Perhaps because it is spring and I just left fall behind. Or perhaps because it just really is just lovely. Here's some pictures from around where I'm staying to give you a sense of it.

this is the circular drive entrance to university college, where I'm staying in one of the visiting faculty apartments. In the middle of the roundabout there's a sundial. I get to walk past it on the way to breakfast and supper each day. Plus, University College has gardens and green spaces throughout. Below is the view I have at breakfast out of the dining hall window.

Speaking of breakfast, another other beautiful thing about Melbourne is listening to people talk. My usual breakfast companions are two Scotsmen. Sometimes we're joined by a British fellow. And then I go to work and listen to Australian accents all day. They're so musical. I was just wondering today if I would think that was true even if the accent was yelling at me. I'll let you know if I find out. I suspect it will coincide with my first attempts at driving.

I've been taking different paths through campus home from work, and stone archways are a typical and lovely sight. Lots of greenery and flowers, too.

The weather here is also pretty lovely. In Michigan and Minnesota, the weather mantra is "Don't like it, wait 10 minutes." The Melbourne weather mantra is "All four seasons in one day." If this is the case, their version of winter is A LOT different than what I'm used to! The temperature can get chilly, and it seems like most days it can change from sun to rain to sun quickly. So far the rain showers are short lived, even when they are fierce, and the sun, rain, sun means more rainbows. Tricky to capture in photos, but I tried below.




 Oh and under the rainbow is the park across the street from my apartment. Tonight it rained a bit more thoroughly, and it's the first night the trail around the park hasn't been a steady stream of joggers and walkers, and dogs, and baby carriages and bikers, and the fields aren't full of rugby and cricket. Single lady friends, I'm keeping an eye out for the shirtless guys. None so far. But summer's coming.

 It really is ridiculously lovely here. The Melbourne ads may not be just shining you on.

Dumpster diving? 6 Nov 2012

On my second day of work, I thought I'd venture through campus rather than around. It's a bit of a maze made out of a crazy mix of aged, new, and half-new buildings, not unlike university campuses in the US. But this was a puzzler:

In the middle of campus, next to what seemed to be a lecture hall, a huge group of students was waiting around. Occasionally a few of them would go into what looked to me like a giant dumpster. The kind that they use for scrap metal at Oshtemo dump day, or what I thought I would need to get moved out of my parents' place, or what will sit in the yard at my parents' house when they are dead and I am cleaning out the house. (The parents and I have already discussed this.) Anyway, the students always came out of the dumpster... and they looked lighter, somehow. Then I remembered:

It's exam month at University of Melbourne. So all those kids were queuing up for an exam and dropping their bags off in the dumpster because they weren't allowed to bring them into the test. The dumpster even had little cubbie hole shelves built in for bags. Pretty ingenious, assuming they get their bags back after. Differently ingenious if you're the guy with the dumpster moving truck, a blow torch, and a penchant for larceny. Although I think it would be difficult to sneak off with a 20' container.

For All the Saints, 4 Nov 2012

4 Nov 2012

 Saturday on my walkabout, I passed a sign that said "Choral Mass first Sunday of each month, 10 am. Other Sundays, Spoken Mass." Since the next day was the first Sunday, I thought it would be worth investigating. The next morning, 5 minutes before the service, when I was the only person in the congregation under the age of 65, I wondered if I was mistaken.

Turns out many younger folks (and some not quite as old folks) were in the choir. I caught glimpses of them out the side door as they prepared to enter the sanctuary. The men were in white robes, the women in blue robes with lace collars - kind of goofy looking Elizabethan collars. Then the organ fired up with "For all the saints," the choir began to sing, and I started to think it might be worth the goofy collars to sing in the choir.

  The choir processed around the fairly tiny chapel and folks from the congregation stepped out of their seats to join in the parade. Plus the organ was HUGE and LOUD and I got to sing all the verses, in harmony, at the top of my lungs. Fantastic. I had totally forgotten it was All Saints, but it was another perfect welcome to Melbourne - the assisting minister even mentioned all the victims of Sandy and the upcoming US presidential elections in the prayers of the people. We sang several other of my all time favorite hymns, and enjoyed a few fabulous offerings by the choir. I'm sure by the end of the service folks were staring at me, because I was  grinning like an idiot.To top it off, on the page next to the last hymn we sang in the service was a hymn titled "For Absent Friends" - just in case I'd missed the "you're in the right place for the moment" message.

Turns out the folks I worshipped with are Episcopal, and it's not their building. The University of Melbourne has several colleges - I'm staying at University College, and this chapel is in the Trinity College section of campus, and so it belongs to the university. These folks just meet there for morning and evening services on Sundays. And have tea, coffee and snacks after in the courtyard. Evensong is always sung. If you are planning to visit, and love choral mass (Ted and Abby) you should plan to be here for the first Sunday of a month. And perhaps it will be a beautiful sunny day, like this one was. Thanks be to God. :)

First Day in Oz, 3 Nov 2012

Arrived safely in Melbourne, greeted by John Hattie (my boss' husband) and, an hour later, my boss, Janet Clinton. John had bought me groceries. A sweet welcome to the land of Oz. They dropped me off at my home for the next month (above).
 


I called the parents at home, which promptly led to the first ever G-family skype. I had voice (but didn't know it) but no video; they had video but no voice. So I was Skype instant messaging them, and Dad was sticking post-it notes on his forehead with messages for me to read.... there was a lot of laughing. We finally got it sorted out so I could at least hear them and I started talking so they could hear me. It was so good to see them after my hectic last few days and a long flight. Now I have to figure out how to get my webcam to work, and they have to figure out how to get Grandma and the dog upstairs so I can see them, too!

Using my MELBOURNE ENCOUNTER lonely planet guide (a timely gift from a Kalamazoo friend), I went for a wander around the giant park near where I'm staying, then wandered around the campus, and hit Lygon street to check out the shops (right). The whole thing went much more smoothly when I realized an hour into the walk that right side up for the book was actually upside down on the map for me. Seemed fitting for my first day down under. Also solid inspiration to learn how to use the GPS feature on my tablet.