Things are different Down Under

Let's face it, the Handsome Australian and I are raising a multicultural family. Not only do our children have one Australian parent and one American parent, but they have an entire extended family that is Lebanese and well, there are the Texans on the other side. Yes, a very rich heritage indeed. Given the various influences on their language and diet, I think our children move between these worlds (as I like to think of them) quite seamlessly. They've been lucky enough to be surrounded by a very interested and involved network of family and friends--each one imparting the best bits of their culture to our little sponges. Their vast knowledge of these various worlds came to light recently when their American cousins came Down Under for a visit.

We've been fortunate enough to make annual trips back to the USA since the birth of our first child five years ago. So fortunate, in fact, that our daughter made her sixth trip to the USA just before her 5th birthday. This means that our children have had significant exposure to all things American, and more so, all things Texan. Our daughter figured out long ago that Americans use different words for some things than what we use in Australia. When she is in the USA, she does a good job of converting her vocabulary so that she can be understood by her American cousins. Such a good job in fact, that I don't think her cousins really picked up on the fact that things in Australia are quite different to the way things are in the USA. Lots of words are different, food is different, weather is different--it's all really, really different.

When our Texan cousins came to visit a few weeks ago, I watched as my daughter acted as their unofficial tour guide in this strange and wonderful land. I overheard things like:

My girl: "My Dad's going to take us to the Milk Bar to get an icy pole."
My nephew: "What's an icy pole?"
MG: "Oh, in America you say Popsicle. In Australia, we say icy pole."
MN: "Y'all call Popsicles 'icy poles'?"
MG: "Yep that's right. We do. We also call ketchup 'tomato sauce'"
MN: "Y'all do?"
MG: "Yep, we do. We say a lot of things differently here."
MN: "Why do y'all say those things differently?"
MG: (Authoritatively) "That's just the way they planned it."

Yes, I never said she understood the reasoning behind the differences, I just said she recognised the differences.

It was really fun to see Australia through the eyes of a five year old American boy for two weeks. This kid has a lot of Texas pride and was making constant comparisons between things here in Australia and things he knows in Texas. Australia came out ahead in two areas--my mother-in-law's freshly squeezed lemonade was, "better than my Mommy's lemonade" and the bacon from our local deli that the Handsome Australian fried up one morning was, "better than Houston bacon." Other than that, he pretty much resolved that we should just move to Texas because things are generally better there.

His most surprising observation, after watching my toilet training two year old run around pant less for the good part of two weeks, was, "Mommy even the penises are different here. They are pointy." His mother just quietly agreed and left the whole circumcision discussion for another day. Ah yes, things are different Down Under.

Settling In...still

Wow. Where has the time gone? It's been nearly 8 weeks since the little people and I returned from 2 months in the good old USA. After an initial week of jet lag and self imposed quarantine (seems everyone was convinced we'd brought the swine flu back with us from the USA) we returned to our usual activities...for a week or so. Then school holidays came along and some of our American relatives turned up for a visit. Two weeks went by and another set of American relatives turned up. We've been busy, busy, busy!

Why so many American relatives and why all at once? Well, it turns out that both the Handsome Australian and I have siblings that reside in the USA. In the same Texas city in fact. Yes, it's true. Wait, how did that happen? My sister lives in Texas because well, she's always lived in Texas. The Handsome Australian's handsome brother lives in Texas because, he's married to an American girl too! What can I say? Good taste runs in the family.

So it was the Handsome Australian's handsome brother and his gorgeous little family that arrived first in Australia (two weeks after we returned from the USA). Much like our annual pilgrimage to the USA, they generally make an annual trip here to Australia to visit with the Handsome Australian's family. This makes my inlaws tremendously happy and it makes their extended family even happier. A festival atmosphere begins and there is night after night, day after day of large family gatherings. There is lots of food, plenty of drinks and heaps of laughs. It's a good time. We always enjoy their visits. This year was no different. We had the little ones up late night after night as they spent time playing with their cousins. Bedtimes seem irrelevant when you consider how precious these moments are for these two families living so far away from one another.

As the two weeks with the Handsome Australian's brother came to a close, my sister arrived from the USA with her husband and family in tow. They overlapped the Handsome Australian's brother by one day. So we said goodbye to one set of cousins and geared up to entertain another set. This was my sister's (and her husband's) third visit to Australia and the second one she's made with her children. The children were very young the last time they came, so we had plenty of ground to cover. There was much to see and do in the short time they were here. Here are a few highlights of what we got up to:

*A visit to the Melbourne Aquarium where we saw a very lame performance by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

*A visit to Scienceworks where we saw the special Star Wars exhibition. Star Wars loving brother-in-law was pleased with this.

*A trip to the Tivoli Theatre in Malvern to see a production of Jack and the Beanstalk.

*A trip to Chadstone...the Fashion Capital.

*Swimming at the local indoor pool

*A self guided tour of the Queen Victoria Market in the City.

*Greville Street and Chapel Street walking tour in search of music stores.

*Visits to the many local parks

And because I wanted them to have a complete tour of Melbourne, I also took my nephew to the Emergency Department at Cabrini hospital one weekend at 2am. He was released three hours later without too much drama and was almost as good as new the following day. For his parents, it was an interesting peek at the Australian health care system. What can I say? We like to offer the full package.

This second set of American cousins departed for the USA last Tuesday. So now it's just us here in Australia again. Back to normal....whatever that is. It's been so long, we can't really remember. Time to find our feet in Melbourne again...

Tour de Texas

During 2009's Tour de Texas, we've done a lot of driving. As Texas is an enormous state, we generally opt to fly. This time I had plenty of internal flights booked with only a few short driving segments. When swine flu first hit the USA, there was a media frenzy and heaps of hype. As a result, I opted to cancel a few of our internal flights and make the same trips in a car instead. This seemed a sensible precautionary measure at the time. As more became known about the flu and the hype died down (and you could finally purchase antibacterial hand gel in the stores again) my choice to drive rather than fly seemed extreme. Some might say, stupid (especially given the long distances and the two small children factor) but in the end I'm glad it worked out the way it did.

By taking to the roads, my kids saw more of Texas than they ever would have from a plane. If you ask them, they probably saw more of Texas than they ever cared to or would ever care to see again. I, however, take comfort in the fact that one day when they are sitting around and complaining about what a lame job I've done as a parent, they'll recall with particular disdain the time, "Mom dragged us across Texas in Pop's car and we saw nothing but tumbleweeds for five hundred miles." It was really only 300 miles, but they'll exaggerate for effect. Teenagers do that. "Yeah" the younger one will reply, "That was so BORING!! What was she thinking?"

Maybe I'm giving their little 2 and 5 year old memories too much credit. Perhaps they'll never remember it at all. I guess that just means we'll have to repeat the exercise annually until they reach an age of awareness. Guess that sorts our holiday plans for the next five years.

Seriously, I think we all enjoyed our drive even though the scenery was at times, repetitive. You know, for like 300 miles. Personally, I grew up making the long drives across Texas to visit relatives, although it's probably been a good 10 years since I've done such a long road trip across Texas myself. I'd forgotten the vastness of this state I so fondly called home for most of my life B.A. (Before Australia). I'd forgotten how the landscapes are so varied and extreme from one side of the state to the other. I'd forgotten the names of the little towns that dot the long highways between the metroplexes. Gems like, "Van Horn", "Welfare", "Ozona". I'd forgotten how I could rely on these towns for their Dairy Queens. I'd forgotten all about the blizzard and the Hunger Buster.

In 10 years, not a whole lot had changed along a stretch of road I traveled with great frequency during my younger days. Same gas stations, same arid landscapes--although I was pleased to see a new massive wind farm perched on the mesas that give some texture to the barren far West of the state. Finally, I thought, something useful in this sandy, wind prone bit of desert. The giant windmills were a welcome distraction for the little people in the back seat as well. It's truly a pity the Handsome Australian wasn't with us to witness them too--he LOVES a good wind farm. Even took me on a tour of one in Australia once. Yes, I'll tell you all about it one day or perhaps you could just have a root canal--it might be just as interesting.

I don't know if it's my age or simply the time I've spent away from Texas, but I really soaked in so much during these drives. I took note of things I'd never noticed previously. I wondered things I would never have thought about in my youth. I appreciated the simple beauty of the landscape--I stopped to smell the flowers. Okay, so maybe I didn't stop for the flowers, but it's been my experience that cactus isn't particularly fragrant--that and can you imagine the first aid disaster that would be two little people covered in cactus prickles?

I did stop for a coffee at the McDonald's in Van Horn, Texas. I ordered a latte from their new coffee menu. As we drove away and I sipped on my latte from Macca's (as we call them in Oz) I thought to myself, "Wow. This is a good coffee." After which I immediately thought, "Wow. I've been away from Melbourne for far too long."

I guess time away from "home"--wherever that may be--makes you appreciate it all the more when you return and sometimes, you might even see things in a different light.

Easter in Texas

I realise Easter was a month ago, but this is the first chance since we've been on the road that I've had a chance to sit down and put some thoughts together.

One of the holidays I miss the most living in Australia is most certainly Easter. It's not that the Aussies don't celebrate Easter, because they do. It's also a pretty big deal in Australia and in some ways bigger than Christmas with the shops closing and people having public holidays on Good Friday and Easter Monday. It's just the way that Australians celebrate Easter that strikes me as uninspired. Well, hang on a minute, I love the idea of a public holiday and will gladly take those, but after that, the Aussies have a lot of chocolate and that's pretty much it.

I've never seen Easter Egg colouring kits in Australia and I've never known any of my Anglo Aussie friends to actually colour Easter eggs since I've lived there. We've had friends and family who are part of the Orthodox church share their tradition of colouring eggs and then playing this game where you try and crack each other's eggs. Whoever has the last egg that isn't cracked wins the game. It's fun and light hearted, but in my experience their eggs are only one colour--red or maybe blue. They used regular food colouring to colour them and don't have any fancy swirls or glitter or anything remotely fun like that.

We've had the fortune of spending the last three Easters in Texas with my family. All of these occasions have been filled with heaps of fun and my children will have many lovely memories of sharing this special holiday with their American cousins.

What makes our Easter so special each year? A little something called, cascarones. Historically a Mexican tradition, our proximity to Mexico has seen this endearing ritual spill over the border and into our hearts and minds. Like anything worth doing, cascarones take a lot of time, love and care.

Here's how we do it...during the year, my Mom will start saving eggs for us to colour. Each time she uses eggs for cooking, she cracks them a special way (using a knife to break off one end) and drains the egg out keeping the shell mostly in tact, except for a hole on one end. She then rinses the egg shell out and puts it aside to dry. My sister -in-law does the same at her house.

When Easter weekend rolls around, we pull out all the egg shells that have been put aside. Then on Good Friday, we have an Easter Egg colouring session. We get out several long tables and set the kids up outside with aprons on and colours galore. They spend the next several hours colouring the egg shells beautiful colours. Because the shells are empty, they are a bit more delicate--there are always a few casualties, but with 18 dozen or so to work with we can afford a few mistakes. The kids are surprisingly gentle with the eggs and have a great time creating lots of different colours with them. We put the eggs back in the cartons to dry.

They dry overnight and then sometime on Saturday afternoon, we have another egg preparation session. This time we give each kid their own bowl of confetti and they begin to fill each egg with a small handful of confetti. The holes at the top of the eggs are pretty big so it's not too hard for little hands to accomplish this task. We usually direct them to hold the egg over their confetti bowl so that any confetti that doesn't make it in the hole just falls back in the bowl ready for the next egg.Once the eggs are filled with confetti, they are placed back in the carton to await the next step.


I don' t know about you, but I can already see the fun brewing in these eggs!


While the kids are busy with the confetti, the adults generally sit around and start the sealing process. This involves small squares of tissue paper, some glue, a toothpick and a bit of patience. First, we take the glue (your Elmer's variety is fine) and spread it around the opening of the egg with a toothpick.
Then we carefully place a piece of tissue paper over the hole and smooth it down over the glue. This acts as a seal to keep the confetti on the inside of the egg.


Here is a carton of eggs with their seals waiting for the glue to dry. We leave them overnight.

On Easter Sunday, the Easter Bunny comes along and hides all these gorgeous eggs in the garden. This is when the fun really begins...

One down, one to go

We've now been in the USA for a month. Well, I say the USA, but I really mean Texas. Texas, as we say here in Texas, is like a whole other country. I can honestly say that this saying rings true for me now more than ever before, because when we come to visit Texas we do feel like we are in a whole other country.

It feels as if we've been all over the state, but we really haven't. We've crisscrossed it once now and will repeat this insane behaviour two more times. We've spent time in the wilds of West Texas in the dusty but charming town of El Paso. We've been to the concrete jungle that is Houston and we've spent a week in the absolutely stunning Texas Hill Country (a beautiful area just outside of San Antonio). We've seen family and friends and have gotten up to all sorts. The Handsome Australian was here with us for the first three weeks but has since returned to Australia and the daily grind. We miss him terribly, but there is more fun to be had here and our flight back to Australia doesn't leave for another month. What's a girl to do? Seek out more tacos perhaps? I'm down with that.

I'm attempting to put together a few stories/observations from the trip so far so stay tuned for those in coming days.

If you are reading this in Australia, run out and drink a latte for me will ya? Have some vegemite for my oldest and someone go and ride my son's fire engine at his Australian Grandma's house--he's been banging on about that thing since we arrived here. Who knew a kid could miss a fire engine so much?

The Journey

Late last week on an unseasonably warm Melbourne morning, we left the comforts of home in a bright yellow taxi headed for Melbourne Airport. This was the beginning of our annual pilgrimage to the USA. The cab driver arrived at our house about 10 minutes before we had requested. Initially I was annoyed because I don't like feeling rushed out the door--particularly when I'm going to be away for 8 weeks. There could be any myriad of things I'm leaving behind if I leave too quickly. When I looked around the house, I noticed that 10 minutes early we were actually ready to depart. I took a moment to pat myself on the back for being so organised and prepared especially given that in the days leading up to our departure my youngest had been very ill and required much of my attention, taking me away from other important tasks--like packing. Somehow though, things had worked out and here we were leaving 10 minutes early.

As soon as we had the cab packed, the cab driver began asking us for directions to the airport. He indicated that there was a large accident on the freeway that had brought it to a standstill and recommended that we consider an alternate, if less direct, route. We put our heads together and came up with something and off we went crisscrossing the outlying Melbourne suburbs slowly but surely making our way to the airport. We had plenty of time to arrive at the airport still, but the fact that the ride there was taking so long didn't help me feel less nervous about arriving on time.

Once at the airport we waited for a short time in the queue and were told by the lovely lady at the Qantas counter that we weren't seated together. She directed us to a service desk where this problem could be hopefully rectified. Another lovely Qantas employee did manage to scrounge together four seats--in the very, very back of the plane. Not my favourite place to sit, but I suppose together was better than being split up.

Customs and security were hassle free and we were amongst the first people to board the plane. The children were excited and so were the Handsome Australian and I. We waited patiently as all the other passengers made their way on to the plane and all the seats around us filled up. We were probably 5 to 10 minutes away from departing when a huge thunderstorm filled the sky over Melbourne airport. The pilot indicated that all the grounds crew would have to go indoors as there was lightning in the area and it was no longer safe for them to be on the tarmac. He told us we could expect a 20-30 minute delay. 20 minutes of driving rain, lightning and thunder that shook the plane and we were still on the ground. The pilot updated us and told us we were looking at another 30 minutes or so before the ground crew would be allowed to return to the tarmac. So we sat there for well over an hour before the whole storm finally blew over and services at the airport could return to normal. In the meantime, our 2 year old had a severe case of ants in his pants. I was wishing they'd turn on the inflight entertainment so we could appease him with some Wiggles, but that simply didn't happen. Personally I was thinking about how in all the years I've lived in Melbourne I think I've only seen lightning there two or three times and I've certainly never heard thunder like that thunder. Of all the days to have such a storm it had to be this one. I was also thinking long and hard about the tight connection we had scheduled for ourselves in LA that was seeming to get tighter with each passing minute. Would we get stuck there? Not the best way to start a flight.

Once we were ready to go, the pilot indicated the flight would be a bit bumpy on the way out of Melbourne as we'd be passing through some of the residual weather from the storm. He'd asked the flight attendants to remain seated for an extended period. It wasn't particularly bumpy or as bumpy as I'd expected given the ferocity of the storm we'd just witnessed on the ground. Of course my oldest needed to pee. She had to hold on for quite awhile. Also, they didn't start the inflight entertainment because presumably that means getting up and turning it on which they couldn't do--so the two year old was a wormy, squirmy mess as well. Only 13.5 more hours to go! Great.

Finally the fasten seat belt sign was turned off and we were free to move about the cabin. The children settled in with their videos and activities I'd packed to keep them busy. Before long the meals were served and it looked like the flight was going to be uneventful after all...or so I thought.

At some point during the flight I stood up to go to the bathroom. While I was waiting in the queue, the woman sitting directly behind me held up a bottle of wine in my general direction. She was just waving it at me. Her mouth was moving but I couldn't hear her. I moved in closer and she slurred, "Open. Open." So I worked out she couldn't open her bottle. I opened it for her and handed it back. Then I looked at her in the darkness and could see she wasn't 100%. Must have had some wine already I thought.

As the flight progressed, the woman sitting behind me exhibited more and more concerning behaviour. She continually ordered more drinks from the unwitting flight attendants until they finally twigged she was off her face and decided not to serve her. It was shortly after that (with about three hours left in the flight) that she vomited all over herself and her seat. The person next to her rang for the flight attendants who came back and endeavoured to clean her up. She stumbled to the bathroom and locked herself in there. The woman next to her indicated to the flight attendant that she'd seen the woman consume at least four mini bottles of wine plus some spirit as well as several pills. The flight attendant grabbed her bags and searched through them to find out what pills she'd taken. What did she find? Sleeping pills. So this woman was on a cocktail of sleeping pills and alcohol and we were three hours from civilization. Very unsettling.

It was at this point that the flight became extremely turbulent. The kind of turbulence that shakes the plane around and knocks unsuspecting people over. It wasn't pretty. So if having the crazy drugged out woman behind us wasn't enough, we now had to watch as the whole episode unfolded with the plane jumping up and down. (I'd also like it noted that the entire flight was turbulent from beginning to end. There wasn't a single moment when the plane wasn't bumping around. It was most annoying.)

Our children had only recently fallen asleep and I was sure all this commotion would wake them. Luckily, it did not. I tried turning up the volume on my headset and pretending I was somewhere else, but that didn't seem to reduce the stress levels too much.

So about an hour after we were due to arrive in LA, we touched down. We had to wait on the tarmac to be towed to the gate and of course as we were seated in the back of the plane, we were amongst the last people to get off. We hurried down to Customs knowing we had a very tight connection to make. We cleared passport control with relative ease and then went to wait for our bag at the carousel. The carousel wasn't moving. The whispers among the staff were that it was broken and in the process of being fixed. Then there was an announcement apologising for the delay. A nice sentiment, but an apology wasn't going to get me to my next flight on time. Finally after what seemed like FOREVER, the carousel began to move. Bags passed by, but none looked familiar. Finally two of our bags came down together. The third bag couldn't be too far behind right? No. We waited an additional 10 or 15 minutes while the carousel started and stopped and then our third bag showed up. At this point, we had about 50 minutes to make our next flight--which required us to travel to a different terminal (three terminals away), recheck our bags and pass through security. I didn't think it was going to happen.

We finally cleared Customs, who thankfully didn't send us to have extra x-rays on our bags even though I was sure that would be on the cards for us given our luck for the day. We maneuvered our way out of the International Terminal and told the kids that we'd be running full speed to the next flight. So there we were, the Handsome Australian pushing a Smart Carte loaded down with all of our bags and me pushing a pram loaded down with our two year old and our four year old clinging to one of it's handles for dear life. WE RAN.

It was at this point I was thankful for my renewed dedication to my personal fitness and could really see the many hours of aerobics classes paying off. I was also astounded that the four year old managed to keep up and I didn't end up dragging her on the ground at any point. She's a trouper.

We entered the domestic terminal and waited patiently in the queue until it was our turn to check in. The lovely agent asked me to sign a disclaimer because we were late checking in and he couldn't guarantee our bags would be on the flight. I told him the sad tale about our delayed flight and our recent arrival from Australia and our lightning fast terminal change (which hopefully explained why we were all dripping with sweat wearing what must have appeared to be our pajamas). I told him bottom line was I didn't care about the bags as long as we made the flight. I wasn't prepared to sit at LAX for the rest of the day waiting for the next flight. So he directed us to the security check point and off we went.

We made it to our domestic connection gate about 15 minutes before we were due to depart. Just as we arrived at the gate, they made an announcement that the flight would be delayed by 15 minutes which I thought was great because that meant our bags had a higher chance of getting on the plane as well.

So just under two hours after we touched down in LA, we were making our ascent over the Pacific and turning back inland on our way to Texas. The Handsome Australian and I were delirious from lack of sleep--we'd each managed under an hour on the first flight and the children were holding up remarkably well for little people who'd both had under five hours of sleep. I think they were just really excited.

We relaxed into the domestic flight and a lovely couple with a 1 year old baby traveling on their lap asked us how old our children were. "Two and nearly five." the Handsome Australian responded. The woman indicated she was asking because she was wondering at what age she could expect her daughter to sit quietly in her seat on a plane like ours were doing. When we told them we'd just arrived from Australia no more than 2 hours ago and the children had very little sleep, they simply couldn't believe it. Looking back, neither can I. I think if it had been any other way, given all the other hurdles along the way, the Handsome Australian and I might have genuinely lost the plot.

So the moral to the story is it doesn't matter how prepared you think you are, you never know what's going to happen along they way and just when you think all the chips are down, things have a funny way of working out. Or they did in this case anyway.

The Pilgrimage

In a week's time, our family will embark on what has become an annual pilgrimage. Since the birth of my first child, I've returned to the USA once a year to visit family and friends. There was even one year when I went twice (a family wedding--couldn't miss that!). My first born is now just shy of turning 5 years old and this trip will count as her 6th visit to the USA. I sat down recently and did the math. She's spent a total of 27 weeks in the USA which is approximately 6 months and about 10% of her life thus far. These annual trips are adding up. We generally spend six weeks stateside when we go, but this year we'll spend 8 weeks. My children have many lovely memories of these trips. They get to spend time with their American grandparents, Aunties, Uncles and cousins. They get to eat food that we don't have in Australia or in some cases, food we don't let them have in Australia. They learn plenty of American words while we are there and even come back with slight American accents. The maturity and personal growth I've witnessed in both my children as a result of these trips is mind boggling, given their relative ages. It's such a truly rich experience for them. We are blessed to have the opportunity.

Of course these journeys have their down sides as well. The first being the distance. It takes so bloody long to get to the States. 14 hours on a plane is a really, really long time when you are a small child. It's a really, really, really, really long time when you are the parent of said small children. Of course the 14 hours just gets us to Los Angeles and then we have to connect to Texas. I'm not a real fan of Los Angeles, but sometimes I wish my whole family lived there. It would make the trip a little bit shorter each time.

As the children get older, making the trip is easier because they understand where we are going, what we are doing and who we will be seeing, but on the other hand they know what they will be missing from here while they are gone. Like any young preschoolers, they've got plenty of things they do each week--preschool, swimming lessons, dance lessons and play dates galore. All of these things must be organised before we depart. The list of people we need to notify and arrangements that we need to make before we go seems to get longer each time.

It's not just the activities the children miss, it's the people too. The neighbourhood we live in here in Australia is filled with children of similar ages and our children are in constant contact with many of them. I knew I was in trouble when my then 2 year old daughter burst into tears during one of our USA trips and began saying, "But Mommy I miss my friends!!" Was she serious? She was only two!! In hindsight, I think she was serious and she certainly does miss Australia when we are away. At the same time, she has a real fondness for America and often gets emotional about missing family members that live there (emotional attachments that she wouldn't have if we didn't make these trips).

I think the transition between the two countries is another element of these pilgrimages that is sometimes difficult. It's almost as if you have to put your life completely on hold in one place and then try and slot yourself in when you arrive at the other place (where you haven't actually been for an entire year). The same is true on the return...you've got to remove yourself from your new found comfort zone and return to your "regular" routine (that you've been missing from for 2 months). It's enough to make your head spin.

Good and bad, we continue to make the journey. I can't imagine it any other way.

The Olympics...

Watching the Olympics here in Australia has been quite an eye opening experience for me.

Firstly, I've noticed the coverage here tends to favour sports that the Australians are actually competitive in (ie have a good chance of medalling) and that these are not the same sports that are emphasised in the USA. It makes sense doesn't it that each country would have a handful of sports that are preferred and played with more frequency than others. There are also certain nationalities that seem to dominate particular events. The Australians seem to put a lot of their emphasis on the swimming. The Australian swim team is very competitive and is a tough rival for the USA.

After the swimming, Australia's Olympic performances are pretty hit or miss. They've medaled in a variety of sports, but haven't dominated any. The Australians love their sport so much though that each and every medal is celebrated and cherished. There isn't a single medal that has gone by uncelebrated by the Australian media and public. There have been a few hard fought silver medals that have almost captured more media attention than some of the gold medals.

In fact, the entire Olympic Games coverage here has been pretty Australian-centric. That is to be expected I suppose, but even in the USA, I remember the networks doing profiles of athletes from other nations and really explaining who were the top contenders in each sport. That seems to be missing here. So much so that I'm not even sure who any of the US athletes are. It's all Aussie all the time and as a result, I'm all Aussie all the time. I find myself barracking (that's Aussie for supporting or rooting) for the Australians even in races when they are competing against Americans. I've been questioning this behaviour for two weeks now and have finally come to the conclusion it's because I don't know the stories of the athletes from the USA. I didn't get to experience a media build up to the Olympics that let me know who these people were--I only saw the Aussies. Well, that's not entirely true. Michael Phelps has gotten quite a bit of media coverage here, but I'd say he's the exception to the rule and the exception is made because he's 1. a swimmer 2. EXTREMELY GOOD and 3. 8 GOLD medals are hard to ignore.

Other than Michael though, it's been hard to keep track of Olympic athletes from other countries. This strikes me as very odd because normally I'd say Australians are very outward focused. They are quite interested in what's going on in other parts of the world and are very knowledgable about other places. I guess the Olympics are one of those times when their competitive spirit takes over and they see it as "us against them".

Whatever the motivation, I haven't enjoyed the coverage as much as I used to in the USA. I say, give me Bob Costas and a sappy athlete profile any day...(does he still do that? anyone? anyone?)

The Snow

During the winter of the very first year I spent here in Australia, the Handsome Australian insisted that we make a trip to "the snow". The what? The snow. My initial reaction to this suggestion was, "What? There is snow in Australia?" and secondly, "Where is this singular place where they keep 'the snow'?" I mean the way the Handsome one spoke about it, it seemed like there was only one place that had snow and that is why it was called, 'the snow'. Upon further questioning, the Handsome Australian couldn't really explain why 'the snow' was referred to in that manner other than the fact that there is really only one Alpine region in Australia and so if you want to see snow in this country, then you have to go to it. Australia's Alpine region lies in North East Victoria and crosses the border into Southeastern New South Wales. So it is indeed a region and not one singular mountain or hilltop covered in snow.

From what I can tell, snow is a big deal for the Australians. Or maybe I should say, a little bit of snow is a big deal for the Australians. The Handsome Australian did manage to convince me to make a trek to 'the snow' during my first year here. We went to Mount Hotham which is one of Australia's premier ski resorts. The weekend we went, there were heavy snowfalls and everyone on the bus on the way up the top of the mountain was buzzing with the knowledge that this was the best snowfall of the season. This resort was, in their words, awesome! And to have the fortune to be there on a weekend where there was plenty of fresh powder. A girl should be so lucky!!

Now, here's where I'll admit I'm not an avid skier. In fact as a sport, I can take it or leave it. I've had good times skiing, and I've had bad times. The good column probably equals the bad column. The point is though, that I've been skiing enough times in enough places, that I know a good ski resort when I see one. I was completely non-plussed when I saw Mt. Hotham in all it's glory that weekend. I remember thinking, "This is it? This is 'the snow'? Who are they kidding?" When I questioned the Handsome Australian about it, he said, "Look, it's not Vail, but it's three hours away from home and it's snow." So what I learned from this was Australians love their sport so much, that they are happy to ski on mountains (read: hills) that are covered (read: lightly dusted) in snow. They also don't seem to get bored with the same three runs over and over again. Good for them, I say. You gotta make the most of what you've got right?

Today we took our children to 'the snow'. We didn't go to Mt. Hotham again and we didn't go skiing. Instead, we went to Lake Mountain. It's a two hour drive from Melbourne and you can cross country ski there or you can go tubing or tobogganing. You can also build snow men, have snow ball fights, etc. It bills itself as "Melbourne's closest Alpine Resort". I'd say they use the word, "resort" very liberally here. Again, I was unimpressed with the size of the place--it simply pales in comparison to any resort I've been to in the USA, but our kids loved it. When you've never seen snow before, a little snow goes a long way!



Here is a picture of the Australian snow man constructed by the Handsome Australian and our brood. He's got Eucalyptus branches as his hair and Eucalyptus leaves for his eyes. He also has bark from the Eucalyptus trees as his nose. Have you ever seen such a thing?

This is what a snow covered Australian forest looks like--snow on the Eucalypts! Not a pine tree in sight!

So there you have it...the snow!

Moving up in the ranks...

In early July, I wrote a post (Sticker Shock) comparing a basket of goods in Australia compared to the same or similar goods in the USA. I wanted to see how the cost of living in both places stacked up. I'll admit, it was a very unscientific study and contained questionable data sources. Today however, the good people at Mercer have published a survey which confirms my theory. Life in Australia is expensive, but not as expensive as Moscow apparently.

Moscow was ranked number one. Sydney was the most expensive Australian city and was ranked number 15 in the world. The most expensive city in the USA was New York City which ranked 22. The next most expensive US city was, you guessed it, Los Angeles. Los Angeles ranked 55th. Our hometown of Melbourne, Australia ranked 36th. So that means it's more expensive to live in Melbourne than it is in LA. Not only that, but Melbourne moved up significantly in the ranks this year from 64th last year to 36th this year. That's 28 places. Wowsers!

It's not that things in Australia or Melbourne in particular have become tremendously more expensive over the last 365 days, it's that the value of the US Dollar in comparison to the Aussie Dollar has decreased.

So that's bad news for the Americans amongst you who are hoping to have a cheap holiday to Australia. You should have gotten on the plane 8 years ago when the US dollar was buying 2 Aussie dollars and everything was essentially half price.

The good news is, America has become a lot more affordable for Australians. The even better news is I can now shop at Banana Republic instead of Old Navy during my next visit to the homeland.

You have to look for the silver lining right?

Starbucks, we hardly knew ya...

Today, Starbucks announced that it would be closing 61 of its 85 Australian locations in an effort to boost profits and shed under performing outlets. That's 71% of their Australian stores to be closed within days. Why am I sharing this little tidbit with you? To make the following point, Australians take their coffee very seriously and Starbucks simply doesn't cut it.

Coffee is a very large part of the Australian cafe culture. Nearly every restaurant or cafe here in Australia serves coffee made with an espresso machine. That means that you don't need to go to a special coffee outlet to get your Cafe Latte. Most any typical Australian cafe would have more ambiance and atmosphere than the cookie cutter feel of a Starbucks outlet. I've only visited Starbucks one time here in Melbourne and that was because it was literally the only shop open where we were at the time. Otherwise, I can guarantee you, the Handsome Australian would cross the street and walk in the opposite direction if given any other options.

That's right, there is no love lost between the Handsome Australian and Starbucks. Theirs is a love-hate relationship. The Handsome Australian loves coffee, but he hates the way they make it at Starbucks. How does he know how it's made there if we don't patronise their stores? Well, each year I drag the Handsome Australian back to the homeland--my homeland that is--and he is subjected to Starbucks because there are only a handful of other places to get an espresso coffee in the parts of the USA we seem to visit.

Starbucks simply can't be avoided in the USA. It seems like there is literally one on every corner. (Perhaps less true now as the same article announcing the Starbucks closures in Australia also mentioned the company had recently chosen to close 600 under performing US locations...I'm guessing there is still a bloody lot of them though). It was the Handsome Australian's American holiday pastime to find a Starbucks that could actually produce a coffee he would deem drinkable.

The main problem the Handsome Australian has with the Starbucks coffees is the size. The smallest size at Starbucks, which I think is tall is approximately double the size of a coffee cup here in Australia. So it would seem as if you are having two coffees at one time just by ordering the tall size. The Handsome Australian loves coffee though so a double serve wouldn't be a bad thing except for the fact that while the tall coffee at Starbucks is twice the volume of a regular Australian coffee, both contain the same amount of espresso. This means that the Starbucks coffee makes up the rest of the tall cup with warm milk. What does this mean? It means a weaker coffee and a very cranky Handsome Australian.

During our last visit to the USA, the Handsome Australian tried endlessly to get the nice folks at about a 100 different Starbucks locations to prepare his coffee the way he likes it. After about 99 failed attempts he finally came up with a winning combination. The problem with the winning combination is it requires the Handsome Australian to explain the process step by step to the barista amid confused looks and dazed expressions.

So what's the secret combination? The Handsome Australian advises to get a drinkable coffee at a Starbucks outlet you must ask for a Cafe Latte with a double shot of espresso served in the espresso cup. The espresso cup is smaller than the tall cup. So this means there is more coffee and less milk. A nice strong coffee, just the way he likes it. Well sort of...he still prefers the standard Australian version.

What can I say? You can take the Handsome one out of Australia, but you can't take Australia out of the Handsome one.

Where am I again?

The first time the Handsome Australian and I traveled to the USA together, we were on our way to a family wedding. The Handsome Australian had managed to get a bit of time off of work and so we thought we'd make a bit of a holiday out of it. So instead of heading straight to Texas for the wedding, we stopped over for a few days in Las Vegas.

I'd been to Las Vegas several years earlier and had experienced the circus like atmosphere and the over-the-top architecture and decor of the various casinos. The Handsome Australian had never been to Vegas. This was his first time and it was very interesting to see this unique American city through his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the people. He said, "I didn't expect there to be so many people here. I can't get over the crowds." I thought that was a bit of an odd observation, I mean this was Vegas--it's a tourist destination. Of course there are going to be lots of people around.

Then the Handsome one said, "I can't get over how many Americans are here. It's weird." Did he just say it was weird there were so many Americans here? I'm starting to think he's a bit weird. I promptly informed him that, in case the 14 hour flight, the clearing of customs in Los Angeles and the new stamps in his passport weren't clear enough, we were indeed in America. Then I asked him who he had expected to see in Vegas? If not Americans, then who? He told me that he thought there would be more international tourists.

Most of the major Australian cities have one large casino. Just one. In Vegas there were dozens and dozens. I was living in Melbourne when they finished building the casino here and it was a big deal. People couldn't believe how big it was and what a massive entertainment complex accompanied it. When we went down to check it out one day, I realised that like many other things before it, it was big by Australian standards...not by my standards (I'm from Texas, don't forget). So you can imagine the awe of the Handsome Australian when he found dozens upon dozens of casinos of the same size as the "massive" one in Melbourne, lining the streets of Vegas. He simply couldn't get his head around it.

Neither the Handsome Australian nor I are big gamblers, so we spent our time in Vegas going from casino to casino checking out the decor. The Handsome Australian couldn't get over how fake everything was and how much he felt they were trying to channel the feeling of Europe. He finally surmised that this is where Americans must come to instead of Europe. Why would you need to go to Europe when you have the Eiffel Tower, and the Canals of Venice just a short walk from the Statue of Liberty. Only in Vegas.

I often think back to that trip each time I arrive in the USA after a year away (we tend to visit once a year). When I arrive in the Los Angeles Airport, I am always struck immediately by the multitude of people around me. I always wonder where the crowds have come from. There are suddenly so many people everywhere. There is rarely anywhere in Melbourne that ever feels this busy.

The next thing I notice is that they are all American. All I can hear is American accents everywhere. Much like the Handsome Australian was in Vegas, I am surprised. It just seems odd to hear so many American accents. I guess it's because my ear has become accustomed to hearing the Australian accent now.

It's an odd feeling, culture shock on your own turf, but I'd say that's exactly what this is...