The Plunge Down Under

A Quiz with a Prize

I have been turning several phrases around in my head today, wondering exactly why I continue to find language differences so fascinating in Australia.  I suspect it is because we are speaking the same language, and yet, often we aren't.  Occasionally, of course, there is the completely new word, such as capsicum for bell pepper, but for the most part, the words and phrases we hear that cause us to pause and think, and to sometimes smile and other times shake our heads, are ones that already have a place in our vocabulary.  The difference is in how they are being used.

Now that I have been writing for over a year and a half about word differences down under, I am curious as to how many of the phrases below my (North American) readers will be able to understand.  I do realize that I published a language post in the very recent past.  It seems that from the moment I do so, I begin hearing phrases and words that I wish I had included.  It is probably more than coincidence:  Likely language is at the forefront of my brain and so I notice it more, but at any rate, from the date of my last language post, I started scribbling notes for a follow-up one.  I thought it would be fun to ask my readers to guess at the meanings.  I will choose randomly from any brave enough to have a go at responding and send out a prize.  Incidentally, these are all phrases I have heard within the past couple of weeks.

1.  Did you hear the goss about Julia?  (over dinner)

2.  Is he a journo or a polly?  (on the school playground)

3.  Give the icy poles to her lot instead of mine.  (at church)

4.  I was absolutely rapt when I found that out.  (also at church)

5.  The coffee at that cafe is ordinary.  (from Ross)

6.  We have aths heats on Wednesday.  (from Katie, who was rather put out when we asked to her to repeat herself).

7.  I need some new textas (pronounced texters of course) for school. (Cameron)

8.  I ate all of my rockmelon today at fruit time. (James, reporting on the condition of his lunch box).

Go ahead and guess at the meanings of any or all in the comments section.  I'll be back with answers very soon.

 

 

A Cricketer at Heart

It was under the shade of several large gum trees yesterday evening, where we were seeking some relief from the day's high of thirty-seven degrees Celsius (98F), that we learned that Cameron's last cricket game of the season was canceled due to the heat.  Judging from the expressions on all of the faces, including those of the coach, the parents, and the players, the relief was universal.  About the best thing that can be said with respect to Cameron's cricket team this season is that they have been blessed with plenty of character-building opportunities.  Four weeks ago, for example, when the boys realized the opposing team had merely doubled their score rather than tripled or quadrupled it, there was cheering and celebration.

We had driven to the field last night prepared not only with several ice-filled water bottles, but also with the resigned determination to make the best of a difficult situation.  Cameron's team would have been in the field the entire evening had they played, as this was the second day of a two day test match.  The previous week his team had been at bat for the duration of the excruciatingly long four-hour period, and in spite of Cameron's high hopes that this last time he would finally bat well and score many runs, he lobbed one high into the air after scoring only two.  It was caught, of course, and that was it for him.  In cricket, when you are out, you are out for the remainder of the game, and that can be a very cruel thing.  There are no second chances, let alone a third or a fourth.

And so, rather than watching cricket last night, or at least pretending to watch and understand, I stood chatting with Cameron's coach and a few parents while keeping an eye on James who was rolling around in the dirt complaining about the heat.  The coach had a laugh over this classic Australian scene, and offered to take my picture if I would just climb up into one of the nearby gum trees and hug a branch.  As I was wearing a short white skirt, I declined his offer, although it might have been a good one for the blog.  The talk turned to baseball, and then to the dreaded arena of politics.  I was questioned as to the need for the lengthy lead up to the U.S.  presidential election every four years, and I countered with asking them to explain the soap opera that is currently taking place amongst Australia's politicians.

In the meantime, the boys took advantage of their unexpected freedom to race through the park playing tiggy (tag), in the process becoming much hotter no doubt than had they been playing the rather sedentary game of cricket they had been meant to play.  Eventually there were a few speeches (Aussies love to make and listen to speeches):  from the coach to the players, from a parent to the coach, and from one of the boys to the team manager.  Gifts were distributed, the tea consumed, and it was time to go home.

It is more fun to write about a winning season than a losing one, which perhaps explains why I haven't blogged much about Cameron playing cricket this season.  It has been a big part of his life for the past few months, however, and he has enjoyed watching it on the telly, and playing it in the backyard with his good friend and mentor Gus, in addition to training and playing with his team.  He throws around phrases that I can't begin to understand ("He was out for a golden duck," for example), and has absolutely loved to corner each new set of guests to our house and attempt to explain the game to them.  Inevitably they grow increasingly confused, until Ross or I come to their rescue and change the subject.

I do have some pictures of Cameron playing cricket a few weeks ago when Amy was visiting.  On that particular night his team had shown up for the second day of a two day test match already having lost the game.  The only thing that could possibly happen was the additional scoring of runs for the opposing team, a bit like having to play the second half of the ninth inning when you have already lost, except that the inning lasts for hours.  The pictures are happy ones, however, because the other team eventually declared the game to be over and gave the losing side another go at batting.  It didn't really count for anything, but it was fun practice, and Cameron managed to hit a couple of balls pretty well.  You can see the coach smiling at him in one of the pictures, and I love how excited he was for Cameron. 

Somehow I managed to capture his two best hits.  You can see the ball if you look carefully in the next two photos.

Thanks, Amy, for the last photo!

 

Street Art or Graffiti?

We know, in the Wilkin family, where we stand on this issue, and it is firmly with the latter designation.  Our children, in fact, found Melbourne's graffiti rather distressing when we moved here, and they still don't like it.  They noticed and rejoiced its absence when we visited Singapore in November of 2011.  However, it is such an inescapable part of living in Melbourne that I decided I should devote at least one post to it, and we all agree we would not trade the freedoms of Australia for the rather rigid and punitive laws of Singapore, graffiti notwithstanding.

When Gillian and I did a laneways and arcade tour last December, our energetic guide did his best to convince us of the merits of Melbourne's street art.  Occasionally, rarely it seems, it is legal.  This requires permission from the owner of the structure being defaced as well as a permit from the city.  I believe it is also necessary to gain the respect of fellow artists.

(I borrowed a couple of pictures from Amy Smith's camera card for this post. Thanks, Amy! You can read her posts on her visit to Australia here).

 

Sightseeing with the McLaggans and the Wilkins

When my good friend Amy visited us just a few weeks ago, I was pretty sure that no one could match her enthusiasm and delight for everything Australian.  It turns out I was wrong, however, as we have discovered during the past nine days.  For Ross's Aunt Marion and Uncle Barry, everywhere they go, everything they see, in short, every experience they have had since they departed from their hometown of Fredericton, New Brunswick has been even better than the one before.  Their joy and interest have been a pleasure to behold.  

Shortly after their arrival last Friday evening, in spite of having traveled for more than forty hours, our guests drove with us to witness part of Cameron's cricket game.

Saturday morning Ross drove a carload to the Queen Vic Market.

For Sunday lunch, Ross's dad treated us to a wonderful meal at Giorgios, followed by an excursion to the ever-popular Cape Schanck.

On Monday we managed to squeeze in a visit to Healesville Sanctuary in between morning drop off and afternoon pick up.  The bird show was the hands down favorite event of the day, although the koalas and dingoes were also a big hit.

We could see a four-month-old joey moving around inside her mum's pouch.

More than anything at the bird show, I love the passion and pride displayed by the bird handlers.

Shopping on Tuesday, with an al fresco lunch and a new outfit for Aunt Marion.

Since James had Wednesday off from school, we chose that day for the required trip on Puffing Billy.

It was not clear whether it was the child or the grown ups who enjoyed most the experience of riding with legs hanging over the side of the open carriages.

After the Puffing Billy, we enjoyed afternoon tea at Sky High Mt Dandenong with its views of the city and the surrounding countryside.  

Thursday was spent researching boomerangs and didgeridoos (more on that to come), bringing us to Friday at the Prahan Market.  It is now Sunday, and our travelers have returned from the Great Ocean Road full of praise and wonder at all they have seen.  "Impossible to pick a favorite," is how Aunt Marion described it, and it was great fun to look over all of the pictures with her before turning in this evening.









 

Today at the Prahran Market

Our third round of visitors for this summer season have been here in Australia for one week, and a very full and successful week it has been for them.  It has been so full, in fact, that my camera has been largely neglected, and any time that I have spent on the computer, in between playing tour guide, running four children everywhere they need to be in this new school year, and making sure that our household stays fed, clothed, and happy, has been devoted to my new role as secretary of the Senior School Parent Association at Presbyterian Ladies College.  So far I have managed to make mistakes too numerous to count in this role, and I have realized exactly why I ran unopposed for the office.  Today, however, I am determined to put aside the secretarial hat, and post at the very least a few pictures of our morning excursion. Hopefully there will be several more posts in the days to come, although a quick look at the next few days on the calendar leaves only the tiniest glimmer of hope.

Since one carload will be departing this afternoon for Apollo Bay (our Australian friends love to tease us about our many trips on the Great Ocean Road), we decided to stay fairly close to home today.  After a brief stop at a specialized mailing center to package up a didgeridoo (more on that later), we drove to busy Chapel Street, location of the popular Prahran Market.  While this market is not particularly cheap, its produce is excellent, and the sights and aromas provide a feast for the senses.  Aunt Marion and I had some fun with our cameras, and I am including several of her photos in addition to mine.

The first reports are in from those traveling the Great Ocean Road, and so far, much to Uncle Barry's delight, dozens of kangaroos were found as promised on the Anglesea Golf Course, and then a koala obligingly climbed out of its tree and crossed the road just in front of the Wilkin car as it approached Lorne.  All are in good spirits, therefore, as I tend to the fires on the homefront (fires in this case largely taking place in the engine of the remaining vehicle).

Anticipation

The beds have been made, the shelves stocked, the house cleaned, and the refrigerator filled to capacity.  Yes, we are welcoming another round of visitors this afternoon, Ross's parents and his Aunt Marion and Uncle Barry from Fredericton, New Brunswick.  We are thrilled they have agreed to travel the distance required, and I can only hope that their recovery after the arduous journey will be a relatively quick one.  It was sobering to receive a text from them when we woke up yesterday morning (Thursday) at 6am saying they had made it safely to Toronto, as we realized it would be at least another 34 hours before they would arrive at our house.

I am frequently asked whether I work, and have found myself more than once apologizing for not participating in paid employment outside the home.  While relaxing under the hair dryer at the salon today, however, I decided that I can now respond that yes, I do maintain a busy work schedule running a bed and breakfast that not only serves guests all meals, but also offers a personalized tour guide service including transportation throughout the state of Victoria with guaranteed wildlife experiences. Henceforth there will be no more apologizing from me.

Adjusting to the back to school routine (all kids doing well thankfully) has meant my camera has stayed inside of its case for several days running.  I do have one photo to share that has provided us some amusement.  I hope you enjoy it, and if you come to visit us in Australi-er, we will make sure you have the marvelous opportunity to sample vegemite (I wrote about it here).  Incidentally, most Australians we have met are genuinely shocked that we can't seem to develop a taste for it.  They love it that much.

Language Notes

We are well past the one-and-a-half year mark of our move to Melbourne, and I am thankful to report that any language difficulties we initially experienced are now a thing of the past.  For the most part, that is.  No one, not even one of the children, has developed an Australian accent, and yet we are now understood most of the times we open our mouths, and rarely have to ask for a repeat when others speak to us.  There is still the odd time, however, when we notice something different and remark upon it to one another.

Such was the case two or three weeks ago when we met up with some of R's colleagues for lunch on a Saturday.  As we arrived, they apologized that they hadn't brought their children with them, explaining that their son had "organized a mate for the day."  Cameron especially liked this expression, and has been using it from time to time, somewhat to the annoyance of his sisters.  I noticed the predilection for both the word and the action of "organizing" (spelled here with an "s" instead of a "z") during our first few days here, and wrote about it in my first language post.

Some of my initial impressions of life and culture in Australia I have had to adjust, but I think I can safely say that organize is a word we will continue to hear frequently.  One of the five mascots for J's prep class is "Oscar Organization," and indeed for school children becoming organized is something they hear about regularly.  All of our three older children have been issued school diaries on the first days of school in which they are expected to keep track of their assignments and take note of anything they need to remember.  S has taken this responsibility very seriously, carefully copying out her assignments and ticking them off as they are completed.  She still has a ways to go, however, as I noticed that she left her homework folder behind this morning, but I am pleased that she is motivated to organize all of her own materials.

Here are some pictures of their diaries and timetables:

C could not be bothered to color code his timetable, but I am thankful that this year he at least managed to provide me with a copy.

Another important quality for children here is a willingness to "have a go."  When I finally had a look at the folder sent home with J when he finished kinder, I read the commendation that he was always willing to have a go at something new.  Some of you have asked about how he fared on his first few days, and I am happy to say they have gone well.  He came home the first day proclaiming that his teacher had told him that he was very "clever," (used down under instead of smart), and his excitement for the second day matched that of the first.  By the end of the third, however, he was feeling that the school day was a bit too long, and was very pleased to have today at home.  Preps don't go to school on Wednesdays in February, which helps ease them into the school day routine, and we have also been advised to keep them home whenever they are too tired to attend school.

If a child finds a maths problem or a spelling word too difficult, you will usually hear someone employing the word "tricky" to describe it, not a word you would hear so frequently in North America, but one which our children have picked up unconsciously.  We all use the word "jumper" now without a second thought to refer to sweaters, jackets, and long-sleeved pullovers, and we had a laugh when we reminded Robert as he prepared to fly back to Canada that he had been borrowing R's jumper for the past few weeks (jumper in North America refers to a kind of dress similar to a pinafore).

Some words I find hard to remember, but thankfully most Australians we have met do not seem fussed if we use North American vocabulary.  "Torch" instead of flashlight will not come out of my mouth, for example, and I know there are others.  We are well past the baby stage in our household, but since I have remained on the MOPS leadership team, I am frequently reminded that diapers are nappies, strollers are more commonly referred to as prams, pushchairs, or buggies, and babies sleep in cots not cribs.

One other interesting difference that comes up on a daily basis is the use of other words for "thank you."  I realized fairly early that I was saying thank you, accompanied by that characteristic American friendly smile that can seem fake to foreigners, too often.  It took me ages to figure out what to say instead:  Cheers, That's alright, No worries, or most often perhaps, Ta.  The funny thing for me is that I didn't notice ta until two or three months ago, and now I hear it constantly.  It simply didn't register with me for the first year. I suppose it is an abbreviation (?), and speaking of abbreviations, I think one of the most unusual ones I have heard lately is awks for awkward.

I will end this post by sharing a new nickname bestowed upon Katie when she was at camp over the holidays:  K.T.  She seemed to be pleased with it.  

 

A Milestone Reached

To say that he was excited would be only a small part of the truth. It is true that he bounced his way down the staircase fully dressed in his uniform well before 7:00am, but interspersed with leaping jumps onto the sofa, delighted grins, and the occasional peal of unrestrained laughter were several reflective moments.  He crawled onto my lap for a few treasured cuddles, mostly silent ones, but the occasional question made me realize that he was thinking about the day ahead.

"Will I practice sport today, do you think?" for example, or, "The first day is supposed to be a really fun one," followed by  "Mom, Will you show me again how to unpack and eat my lunch?" ("Of course, Darling"), and my favorite, "I'm really going to miss you."  Or how about this one for tugging on the heartstrings: "If I don't have anyone to play with at recess, I will sit under the Friendship Tree and wait for a friend."  When I look back, it is a small wonder that I didn't hang on to him more tightly before he left.

And yet, this day was not about me. The morning was his, and I was very keen for it to be all he had anticipated it would be.  For a full year now he has watched his siblings don their uniforms, rush off to school, and then return full of stories, the occasional complaint, and heaps of new experiences. Finally, this morning, after what was for him an excruciatingly long year, it was his turn.  His siblings greeted him enthusiastically, showered him with hugs, backslaps, and lots of attention, and he in turn basked in the glory of it. His turn, finally.

Following in his brother's footsteps, quite literally, when it was time, James grabbed his scooter and helmet from the garage,  sailed out the front gate, and went flying down the street.  Pausing just long enough to unstrap his backpack and hand it over to me, he darted off again to catch up to his big brother.  I watched as the two of them rounded the corner, and I didn't catch up until we were inside the school gate.   There, I was pleased to see, his eyes sought out mine, and his little hand reached up for a bigger one as he approached a classroom door that at this moment seemed very wide and very tall.

Once inside, things went very much as I expected.  While most of the girls sat quietly at their assigned desks drawing and coloring, James and another boy gravitated toward the building blocks and were soon constructing and destroying towers.  I watched from the perimeter of the room, eventually encouraging him to find his seat and work on the puzzle that had been left there for him to discover. He gave me a smile, and a wave, then another smile, and seemed more than ready for me to go on my way.  I exited the classroom, but then returned for one last photo, one last smile and wave.  To my delight, he complied.

Outside the classroom door, the mums and dads formed small support groups, chatting and sharing stories until the principal gently moved us on.  A few struggled to maintain their composure as they clutched the little gift bags from the prep teachers.  Inside the care packages we found a tea bag, a piece of chocolate, a packet of tissues, and a poem that I was warned not to read until I was safely back in my kitchen.  I brushed off their concerns, playing the role of experienced mum of four, an old hand at dropping children off for their first day of prep.  In reality, of course, this was my first time, but it wasn't until I was walking the yoghurt aisle at Coles that the emotions found their way to the surface.

It was at this point that I realized that James would have already eaten his lunch, and I had forgotten to include the frozen yoghurt I had promised him.  What else had I forgotten, I wondered.  Would he manage his food containers on his own?  Would he need help from the teacher?  How would he feel if no one came to his aid?  Close behind these rather minor worries came the more substantial ones.  Does he truly know how much we love him?  How will he handle rejection if he experiences it from his peers?  Have we communicated to him that he has been made in the image of God, one of a kind, designed for so many beautiful things, including the pursuit of joy, peace, love, and the knowledge and worship of his Creator?  

There is still time, thankfully, to continue teaching him these things and for demonstrating our own love for him, imperfect as it often is.  I felt somewhat ridiculous falling apart in the grocery store, and yet, this day clearly marked a milestone in his life, the end of one stage and the beginning of the next.  As such, a time of serious reflection and evaluation on my part was certainly in order.  Today, I realized, was a chance to practice the art of letting go just a little, of recognizing anew that my role is that of guiding our son to maturity, to responsibility, and eventually, to independence.  We cannot hold onto him forever.  One day the good-bye will be for much longer, and I can only imagine how difficult that will be.  For today, my immediate need was to pull myself together in the dairy aisle so that I could make it back to the car in one piece, all in time for a happy reunion at afternoon pick-up.

Here are a few more photos from this day.

It's Always Good to Have a Read

Last year I adored Sophie's teacher.  She was so gentle and soft spoken, and obviously loved the girls under her charge.  She was a perfect first teacher for our somewhat shy third born, and when we bid her good-bye in December, I felt sure that Sophie was unlikely to have a better one. This year, however, I have already decided that I am going to like Sophie's new teacher quite well.  

For starters, she began the year by reading out loud to the girls while the parents were still waving good-bye and chatting in the corridor.  The very next day she shared with them her love of reading (she owns a kindle), telling them stories of when she got into trouble as a child for sneaking books to the dining room table, and concluding with the statement that "It's always good to have a read."  My thoughts exactly, and as our daughter came home inspired to start a new book and even discussed with me what different authors she should sample, I was very pleased indeed.

New (expensive) school shoes:  Both girls have inherited my narrow heels, and for this reason they have very little choice among the styles considered acceptable by their school. 

For his part, Cameron woke up this morning reasonably enthused for his first day of school in spite of his reservations over the past few days.  He has a male teacher again this year, "quite strict," he reported, which sounds positive to me.  Cameron was surprised that his class completed a full day's worth of school work, including a maths test, on their first day, and I had no complaints about that part either.

James escorted Cameron to school on his scooter (good practice for tomorrow):

James watching Cameron get settled into his classroom:

Katie could not be happier to be back at school again.  Last year she was given the opportunity to request three or four friends with whom she would like to be in the same form, and she was quite thrilled that all requests were granted.  As her form is different from her house this year, she will still have many opportunities to interact with many of the girls she got to know last year, including students from different year levels.  The various houses are already deep into the planning stages for house concerts, which will take place on the 22nd and 23rd of February.  This means that all the girls will be quite busy during the next three weeks preparing props and rehearsing.  We are thankful that Katie has learned to use the tram system, as this will cut down on the driving required by me.

I took the above picture shortly before the girls needed to leave for school.  As I was clicking away, Sophie was calling from inside the house that she could not find her blazer.  I had assumed, but not double checked, that it was hanging in her closet.  We turned the house upside down during the next fifteen minutes, to no avail, and Sophie ended up arriving slightly late, much to her chagrin, without the required blazer.  Fortunately we later discovered that it had been left at a friend's house last December (I was refusing to think about the cost of buying a new one).

Today, Sophie went to school without her P.E. uniform.  Clearly we need to become more organized around here.  Hopefully on the third day of school, all four children, including James!, will have all required items with them.