Soggy grumpyness

I've been catching myself feeling grumpy about things lately. Being put on hold, snippy comments from strangers, obnoxious telemarketers...all these people have been annoying me. Basically it's crankiness that the world doesn't march to my tune.

On top of this, (or perhaps the cause of it), the rainy weather has now started. It's called "the wet", and it will last until about April or May. It's hot, humid, and dripping wet. Since this is the tropics, it doesn't just sprinkle, it pours down rain. Three inches of rain in one day is not uncommon. Luckily there aren't the lightning storms like I experienced in Florida, but the dampness does get on your nerves.

In an effort to combat the general gloominess, I hit the music shop in town this weekend and bought some sheet music for the recorder and guitar. So while it's "bucketing down", I'm playing lilting Irish tunes, and somehow life seems better.

Mostly Oregonian

A good friend of mine from home keeps asking if I'm an Almost Aussie, and I guess I'd still rate myself as Mostly Oregonian.

Mostly is one of those west coast American phrases that make people here laugh. Another one is Sure. I'm not sure exactly why.

We've entered the rainy season here, and so the weather is on everyone's mind. I mentioned to a friend that the storm was a real "toad strangler", and got a strange look in response. The Australian version is to say that "it's bucketing down".

Most memorable question of the day

Working and studying at the uni, I often meet people not from Australia. Usually we trade stories about our respective home countries and go about our business. Today I got a question that really stopped me in my tracks.

I was sitting in the lunch room, talking to a friend, when a gentleman of middle-eastern descent sat down at the table.

He made a few remarks about how everything here (Australia) is geared toward fast food. I commented that my country, the U.S. is the same way.

Practically the moment I finished speaking he said "You are from the U.S?"

"Yes", I answered.

With a penetrating gaze he asked "So, is your country going to invade my country?" Whoops! How do I get into these types of conversations...

"Um, I guess it depends. What is your country?" Stupid answer, by the way.

"Iran". Gulp....hmm.

Long pause, while I scramble for the most polically correct thing to say. Nothing comes to mind.

I tried to turn the question back on him then. "So, are you afraid that the U.S. will invade Iran?"

"Yes". Dead silence. Um, lemmie outta here I'm thinking.

I mutter something about the Democratic party now having control of the country, blah, blah, blah, and luckily my Australian friend who has been watching this conversation with great interest changes the subject.

Wow! This is something that is not printed on your passport but probably should be:

Note: You may be called upon to defend or explain all of your country's actions for the last 200 years. Be prepared.

Christmas in Oz

I realize it's probably a bit late for posting Christmas pictures, but better late than never!

This year we spent Christmas at our house, and Dave's kids came down to join us. There's just something about having kids around for Christmas that makes it more "official".

Last year during the holidays we were just moving in, and it was too much work to try and have a traditional Christmas on top of that.

The first order of business was to buy a tree. Australia doesn't really have anything that resembles a pine, so an artifical tree is what you buy.

I had never bought a fake tree before, and I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing. But I found something approaching the look of a real tree and set it up. Dave told me that you have to twist the branches a certain way to make them look fuller. "But they don't really grow that way", said I, the daughter of a Christmas tree grower.

Quibbles about authenticity aside, I think it turned out pretty good.

While they were banned from actually shaking the packages, or otherwise squeezing them to discern the contents, the boys were drawn to the tree like a magnet.

Christmas Eve, the kids all went to bed early, but were careful to make a plate for Santa. Apparently by the time Santa gets south of the equator he is very thirsty, and so children leave Santa a beer, and some carrots for the reindeer.

I was asked how many reindeer Santa has and I quickly tried to remember the Rudolph the Reindeer song. Hmmm... (counting quickly "You know Dasher and Dancer and..."). I estimated 6 + Rudolph, but I later realized this should be 8. I guess since Oregon is closer to the North Pole than Australia I'm supposed to know this stuff.

On Christmas morning Dave and I awoke at 6:30 am to the sound of pounding on the door and the chant of "Christmas! Christmas!".

The kids all held up stockings full of plunder. Lollies, bubbles, Crazy straws, colored pencils and pens...I think they came out pretty good.

Next came the pillaging of the Christmas tree, and soon we were knee deep in wrapping paper. The kids received remote control cars, roller blades, racing cars, and lots of other toys.

Dave got a circular saw and a some other tools, and my packages held gold earrings and some bath stuff.

Once the general mayhem was over it was time for some serious clean-up, and Dave started cooking the Christmas roast. It was pork, his specialty. For the next few hours the lovely smell of cooking roast drifted through the house.

I made candied yams with marshmellows, but they weren't a big hit. I guess you have to grow up with them to appreciate that taste. The kids kept asking "Is this dessert?"

Holidays minus Thanksgiving

I've kind of wondered how Australians know that it's time to start up the whole Christmas thing when they don't have Thanksgiving. Turkey Day is a useful holiday because it says "Yep, Christmas is coming and you better get a move on".

For those of us who still like Christmas (an ever-shrinking group), Thanksgiving is the offical date after which we can start putting up Christmas decorations and buying presents. So, if there's no Thanksgiving, how do you know when to start?

Well, I've just discovered it's at the start of November. I decided to pick up a few early gifts at a major store today, and was nearly mauled by "happy" shoppers. The Aussie's have picked up our bad habit of fighting for those early sales.

It's very surreal to go shopping when its 90 degrees, buying wrapping paper with Frosty the Snowman on it, and hearing a mangled version of White Christmas over the shop's p.a. system.

Here's an Australian version of Jingle Bells that you might like:
(listen to it here)

Dashing through the bush,
in a rusty Holden Ute,
Kicking up the dust,
esky in the boot,
Kelpie by my side,
singing Christmas songs,
It's Summer time and I am in
my singlet, shorts and thongs

Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia
on a scorching summers day, Hey!
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut!,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden Ute.

A Chip Off the old Block

Like many houses in north Queensland, my house is made of block--cement block. It makes them very safe in a cyclone, but very hard to decorate.

Although I've lived in this house since December of last year, I've just recently gotten around to putting anything up on the walls. Needless to say, a picture nail hammered in to solid concrete will not get very far. But I've discoved, that a small nail, discretely placed in the mortar between the blocks is usually strong enough to hold up most items.

There are a couple of other houses on my block that are made of the same building materials. A house across the street is built of very nice red brick. Recently when I got home from work I noticed a work truck outside the house, and a worker was slathering what looked like stucco all over the bricks. When I asked what they were doing, I learned it's called "rendering" the brick. These sorts of houses are considered old-fashioned, and they are rendered to bring up their resale value. He was astonished when I told him that brick houses are so popular in the U.S. that fake fronts made out of tiles which look like brick are constructed. Here, brick is out-of-date, kind of like green shag carpet.

In this picture of my kitchen, you can see a few things that are indicative of north Queensland. The first is the block of course, but secondly is the stove. Although there's not much of it showing in the picture, you can see that it's very skinny. This is the usual size for a range, although it's a bit on the smallish end. The oven in the last flat I rented was even skinnier, and I had to turn cookie sheets on the diagonal to fit them in the oven.

Did somebody call a cab?

Getting around on a scooter as I do can be a lot of fun, but it's not very safe at night. In those cases, I usually call a cab. When you call, the cab company usually asks that you to give your name in case there is more than one party waiting at the place where you need to be picked up. This saves lots of arguments about "That's my cab!"

I've recently been informed by those in-the-know that "You should give your surname rather than your first name." When I asked why, I was told that people sometimes don't pay the cabbie, and this way they can track you down. So rather than dine-and-dash this would be ride and dash.

With this information in mind, I called for a cab last night, and gave my surname (last name). When the cab arrived, the driver said "Cab for Heidi?"

Greening My Little Corner

Last weekend we planted three palm trees in our front yard. During most of the winter (the dry season) our yard looks like the Gobi desert minus the sand. In our case, the soil is hard-pan clay.

Winter is definitely not the time to be digging holes. The soil was hard as a rock and the only way we could dig was to wet down the soil with several inches of water and let it soak in. It took all afternoon to dig three small holes. We added lots of good soil amendments like clay-breaker, plant food and potting soil, so hopefully the plants will thrive.

I'll post pictures later in the year if they actually grow.

Bits of Technology

I'm not what you'd call an "early-adopter" when it come to technology items. Generally I wait years after everyone else has bought into the newest "can't live without it" thing. That said, I've realized lately that my list of "toys" has rapidly lengthened.

For instance, here is a fairly typical photo of a conference. One attendee is using his laptop with a wireless modem, so that he can surf the Internet while the speaker at the front of the room is making a presentation. Gotta love the ability to look busy while goofing off. The lady on his right is no doubt making a note "Get the company to spring for a laptop before the next conference."

Another thing I put off buying for years is a cell phone. Over here it's called a mobile, pronounced "moh-byle", as opposed to "moh-beel" which is in Alabama. One thing that kept me from getting a cell phone for so long is that in the U.S. you are charged for any time spent on the phone regardless of whether you called someone or they called you.




I was delighted to find out that in Australia you only pay for the calls you make. Another benefit of the phones here is that you can get a pre-paid phone, meaning that you purchase a certain amount of minutes, and you don't have to pay anymore until those are used up. Also, the phone works anywhere in Australia, so no worry about roaming fees or phones that only work in one part of the country.




Another thing that I've become addicted to is my digital camera. I love being able to snap multiple pictures of whatever. The bad ones I can delete with no problem. Before my last trip back home I bought a memory card that will store up to 1400 photos.


There two drawbacks to digital pictures however. One is that the pictures are digital, so unless the person that you're sending the picture to has email, you're out of luck. I print some of my pictures up about once a year to send to my Mom, and although it's a pain, it is fun to pick out only the best pictures and print those.



The second problem is that digital cameras tear through regular batteries in a hurry. It's a necessity to have a battery charger, so here's another item for my list. My charger is a low-end model, and takes a long time (like overnight) to charge the batteries. It also has the unfortunate habit of cooking the batteries if you leave them in too long. Honestly, I burn EVERYTHING.

Learning to Speak Acadamese

While writing up my thesis I've been having to learn a new way of writing...academese. This is the over-inflated, bureaucratic way of speaking that has the goal of making something relatively trivial sound very important and scholarly.

Here's a quick cheat-sheet.

Was It Something I Said?

For the last two years I've been working on a masters degree in Archaeology. The major goal of the degree is to write a 50-100 page thesis expounding on some topic. Since I'm a bit of a techie my topic is about linking archaeological databases on the Internet.

I've been assisted in this chore by my thesis supervisor, a professor at the university who in addition to teaching classes and doing his own research gives me suggestions about what papers to read or interesting angles to pursue.

Note:
Unfortunately Indiana Jones is not teaching at my university.

Yesterday I received the news that my supervisor is quitting his job at the university to take a job running a museum in the Solomon Islands. And when is he leaving? Friday!

Hmmm... I guess he won't be forced to read the thesis when it's done at the end of the year.


My brother says that I have this effect on people. Case in point, when I was in high school, I decided that it would be a neighborly thing to make a bunch of fruitcakes at Christmas time, and give then to our neighbors. One particular neighbor really liked the fruitcake, and a week later he was dead.

Not from my fruitcake...coincidentally he had leukemia, and that's what did him in. However, my brother insists that I did foul play by fruitcake.

Hopefully my thesis won't turn out as badly as this one:
Heroic Computer Dies to Save World From Masters Thesis

Wedding Down Under

Yesterday Dave's best friend was married in a civil service at the courthouse, and Dave and I were asked to be the witnesses.

Dave's friend is a very gregarious, out-going fellow, and so what was supposed to be a small, select group of friends soon ballooned out to 80 or more guests, who all pressed into a small court-room to watch the service. The highlight of the ceremony came when the groom, carried away with the romance of the moment, swore to be her slave for life. I hope she holds him to that one!

After the wedding, everyone walked a block to the North Queensland Club. Drinks and some light refreshments followed, and Dave was called upon to deliver the best-man's toast. I did enjoy hearing the line "Please be upstanding for a toast to the bride and groom".

After the toast, the newly married couple cut the wedding cake. Unlike in the U.S., where the wedding cake is a fluffy mass of moist cake and frosting, this cake was made of fruitcake and was covered in a hard, smooth icing, like an ice-skating rink. It really brought to mind where the term "icing" came from. While the bride and groom cut the cake, the guests started singing

For they are jolly good fellows,
For they are jolly good fellows,
For they are jolly good fellows,
And so say all of us.

Hip, Hip Hooray! Hip, Hip Hooray! Hip, Hip Hooray!

Much nicer than the usual smooshing of cake into each others faces at an American wedding.