Lucky Country

Some things that crossed my mind as I walked to the train station today:

-Why are some doorknobs in Australia so high?
It’s not as if they’re two feet taller than the rest of us and need them that way. Some of them practically come up to my shoulders! How is this a better situation than doorknobs at waist level? Do they know something that we don’t know?

-I’ve been here over 6 weeks now and I’m still having trouble understanding people on the phone. The building manager yesterday, what was that? After 5 times of asking him/her to repeat what he/she had said I just quickly muttered thank you and hung up the phone. It’s bad enough that I’m calling asking for “replacement globes” (when I asked if those were indeed light bulbs everyone laughed the “well if you want to use the easy word for it” laugh at me). They all seem to know the other words for things, yet sometimes it seems they go out of their way to use something weird.

I shouldn’t complain though, because I like some of theirs better. Laid off = Made Redundant. As if they’ve installed some sort of software that can do your job just as well as you and you staying would only mean that both you and the computer would be doing the same work, and they don’t have to pay the computer do they? You’ve been made redundant, exceeding what is necessary, and so you are expendable.

It’s actually pretty harsh the more I think about it.

-Why can’t a fellow co-worker just say, “Your hair looks different. Did you do something new to it?” Those pleasantries don’t seem to be included in the Australian Guide to Social Etiquette. Instead I get an exclamation, “What on earth has happened to your hair!?” By the way, nothing had happened to my hair, I had just gotten into the office and simply hadn’t put it up yet. Although with that kind of question you would have thought I chopped it and dyed it purple!

-The strange encounter with Plant Man. He exited the elevator and walked straight to my desk holding a spray bottle about a foot away from my face. “Can I help you?” I asked, edging my face away slowly. “I’m here for the plants.” He said dryly.

To steal them? Are you using the spray bottle to threaten me and make me surrender the office plants? Because you win, take them, your spray bottle has persuaded me. Before I could finish my ok he set to work polishing the leaves of the office plants. This is his job. He polishes and spruces up the office plants. He does no watering whatsoever, just polishing. I’m as shocked as you are. He was finished quickly and as he stepped on the elevator he pointed the spray bottle towards me and said, “Until next time.” So bizarre! Is this an actual job back in the States? Someone needs to tell me if they’ve seen anything like this before.

-The major perk of walking the Sydney streets? On certain busy intersections they have a time where they stop traffic ALL ways and people can cross any way they want…even DIAGONALLY! That’s right, they actually encourage it here, unlike ticketing for it back home. It is absolutely wonderful and I feel special every time I stroll diagonally across those streets…the world stops for pedestrians and speaking as someone who will never be driving a car while I’m here, that is a truly beautiful thing!

-Sydney is humid. I’ve argued that Chicago is just as humid in the summer, but as I stand here, in the tunnel, waiting for my train and I can feel my KNEES are sweating, I gently concede. You win Sydney, you have Chicago beat.

-The humidity has forced me to seek special help in the hair department. I head straight for the pharmacy as I exit the train. I inform the woman working that I need extra strength anti-frizz serum. She points me in the right direction and I pick out what she identifies as “The Best”. I bring it to the counter and as she rings it up and is handing me my change she takes an extra moment to study my hair. “It’s rainy and windy out so don’t worry sweetheart, everyone’s hair will look funny today.”

Lovely.


Happy St. Patricks Day Everyone!