Put it in the bin - July 2016

I was recently back in the US on an extended work/holiday and got to see lots of family and friends. My sister Karen remarked that I didn’t have an accent but I used different words for things. Like when wee Gilly Bean (my 4 year old niece) and I were making cookies, she asked what to do with the butter wrapper and I said, “Put it in the bin, please” (i.e., trash can). 

I’ve often thought of the Australian use of bin as anything that you put something in, which someone will eventually take away. Last week I was at the post office mailing a package. The woman weighed the package, told me how much it would cost to send to the US ($2.70 – cheap!) and gave me the stamp to stick on it. Now as an experienced mailer of packages from this post office, I know that I have to take the package outside and put it in the mailbox myself. So thinking I was clever (and also wanting to check that I was doing the right thing), I said to the lady (who has never shown an iota of energy, excitement or enthusiasm, or eye contact on any of my previous visits to this post office, she may be descended from Norwegian farmers) – “OK, so I just put the stamp on this and put it in the bin outside, right?” 

Her head snapped up, she looked me in the eye and said, quite emphatically, “NOT THE BIN!”  

“Oh, right” I said, “The post box… is that what you call it?” She nodded and gave half a smile before she  returned to her usual state.

Apparently bins are not all purpose receptacles, they are trash or recycling or waste receptacles.("Rubbish bins" an Australian said to me when I recounted this story for her - bins are for rubbish!) 

So in case you were wondering, don’t put your mail in the bin if you want it to reach its destination.

Extroverted Norwegian - July 2016

I’ve been riding the tram back and forth to work for the past several months (thanks to my shoulder which is still not right – those of you inclined to prayer could send some my way for that), and I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon. First you must understand that trams (streetcars) can be eerily silent, even when completely packed at peak hour (which is what they call rush hour here). People are reading, or listening on their headphones, or just sitting with their eyes closed or sleeping. This is particularly true on the newer trams, which run more quietly. Some people talk on their phones, which always seems strange to me since it’s so quiet a whole tram full of strangers can hear you. People who get on the tram as a pair will often make quiet conversation – and this is what I’ve observed. They do it facing each other. And often quite physically close to each other, if the tram is full (and sometimes if it’s not).  It seems quite reasonable, that in a closed space with others around, that you might face each other so you can get visual cues and not have to talk so loud. However, it seems quite an intimate interchange in a public space. I was surprised to find that just observing this type of orientation and proximity makes me kind of uncomfortable.

Then I remembered this joke from when I was a kid.   

The first part goes:How do you recognize two Norwegian farmers talking?  

Answer: They are standing side by side, looking out over their fields, exchanging the occasional phrase about the weather or crops while either looking at their own shoes, or looking out at the fields. Never at each other. 

(FYI, I have no idea if this is actually true about Norwegian farmers, I’m just telling you what I heard.) 

The second part: How do you tell if one of them is an extrovert? 

He’s looking at the other person’s shoes. 

Apparently I’m a Norwegian extrovert.