I'm Sorry, I Thought It Was Raining

Today I went to a full day of company mandated driving school to learn safe driving for off road environments.  Did someone say doughnuts, oversteering, understeering and emergency braking instead of excel?  Yes please!  The morning was great despite sharing a sedan with four fairly large men.  After lunch (and by lunch I mean averting my eyes while all the guys ate cold meat pies off the lunch truck), we left the training center for some off road driving. 

I took over driving the white land cruiser (sans flames, after all it is Australia, not Qatar) in a parking lot about twenty minutes from the city.  My first task was to indicate while pulling out of the parking spot.  I buckled my seat belt, adjusted the mirrors, started the engine, put the car in drive, reached my hand up to turn the blinkers on, and promptly started the windshield wipers.  Oh yes, I totally forgot that non-European cars in Australia have the windshield wipers and blinkers on reverse sides of the steering wheel.

I apologized to the instructor, explaining that in case he couldn’t tell from my accent, I’m American and used to the blinkers being on the left side of the steering wheel.  Furthermore I explained, my car in Australia is European and has the blinkers on the left side of the steering wheel.  I then apologized to the rear of the car, explaining how not only am I relatively new at driving on the opposite side of the road (left turn into near lane, right turn into far lane), I also have never driven such a large car.  Let’s just say that they all double checked that their seatbelts were securely fastened.

Luckily, it was all uphill from there and the instructor told me that I passed with flying colors, even not taking into account that I’m a newbie at driving on the opposite side of the road.  Now if only M would let me order a frame so I can display my shiny new certificate on my office wall…clearly a DTEC 6 Certificate belongs alongside my diploma.

Hello My Name is Anonymous Expat and I Am Not an Alcoholic

Today I met with my manager (M) for my full-year review.  It was going well, with good feedback, high ratings, and great ideas for next year when to wrap up the discussion, M asked how I’m doing in Australia as a ‘work widow.’  He asked if I have a good support network here and wanted to make sure that I’m not keeping company with a bottle of gin?!?

Maybe this is a weird Aussie way to show interest in employees’ personal lives?  Maybe I should have said yes, but it’s not my husband’s work / life balance that drives me to drink, but my own poor work / life balance due to the ridiculous hours my group is demanded to work.  Perhaps that would have gotten me some time off?

I’m just trying to figure out why M would ever think that unless it was just him being awkward talking about something not work related.  Especially as I:

• Didn’t put forth as a safety share what a good idea pocket breathalyzers are to check whether or not you should be driving home from after work drinks (as another manager in my group actually suggested).
• Didn’t attend the group holiday party where I was told that all of my colleagues drank near their body weights in cheap tequila and danced on the pool table by the bar en masse, in front of the company CFO.
•  Have never come to work hung over or smelling of alcohol (per some Australian colleagues).  Actually, I have never even been hung over in Australia.
• Haven’t come back pissed (aka drunk) from a work lunch with external participants (per some Australian managers).
• Never have more than one or two beers at work happy hours.  Clearly if I don't drink in excess with my coworkers on a weekly basis, it must mean that I drink in excess by myself because no one in WA can drink in moderation.

Maybe you’ve been watching too many episodes of Packed to the Rafters M but my name is Anonymous Expat and I am not an alcoholic.  And if I was, my drink of choice certainly wouldn’t be gin.

Australian Headlines

Every week at work we have a meeting that starts with a series of safety shares.  Through these I have learned about some of Australia's deadliest animals, including snakes, spiders and sharks.  Some safety shares are about the latest beach to be closed from a shark spotting while others talk about the latest deadly insect that they've been seeing an abundance of in their gardens.  One share involved my manager telling everybody how he had steered slightly out of his way to run over a snake in the road.  He thought he was doing his town a favor, since he was driving by a playground.  A lengthy discussion ensued as to whether or not he had helped or harmed the community as other snakes might fight over the new territory and become more aggressive.

Stories like these aren't uncommon, as evidenced by some of the latest local headlines:

• A Darwin schoolgirl reached into her backpack to find a snake, luckily a non-venomous variety.
•  A man working on his computer at home, barefoot, was bitten on his toe by a western brown snake and killed.

No wonder we see signs like these everywhere: 

That photograph was taken during my recent visit to Cape Leeuwin, a lighthouse on the most south-westerly point of Australia, where the Indian Ocean meets the Southern Ocean.  After paying admission for the grounds, the groundsman pulled out a series of photographs of snakes that can be found on the property, including the deadliest snake in Australia.  Great way to kick-off the visit!

That's Our Bandicoot

Yesterday while walking to the door of our bed and breakfast in Margaret River, we heard an animal scuffling through the landscaping and a low growl.  We checked in and were shown to our room where we asked the proprietor if they had a dog, explaining what we had heard.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "that's our bandicoot."

"A bandicoot?  What's that?" we asked.

"Well, it kind of looks like that," the proprietor said, pointing to this terracotta pot that was standing in the garden.  "It has a wide body and a pointy face."

All I can say is she must have had a few too many tipples before lunch because although we never saw the bandicoot, google showed us that this is what one actually looks like...

Name That Animal

Yesterday I got to stroke koalas and feed and pet kangaroos which was absolutely amazing.  I also discovered what may be one of my new favorite Australian animals....

I'll drink a tipple of Margaret River wine in honor of anyone who guesses correctly.  Imagine seeing one of these in your backyard!

One Bad Apple and a Naughty Nut

Australia is extraordinarily focused on defending its borders against pests and diseases found elsewhere in the world and out-of-state.  Customs exist for both interstate and inter-country travel and customs dogs abound searching not just for drugs but also for contraband food.  The last time I was in the domestic airport, I picked up one of the below customs notices:

Turns out that it's just one in a series.  At least someone has a sense of humor...

One Bad Apple and a Naughty Nut

• "Next time you travel into Western Australia, plan your trip and supplies so that all your fruit and vegies go into your tummy instead of a bin!'

When Honey's Not So Sweet

• "Next time you travel into Western Australia, please don't bring honey or, if you do so accidentally, bin it or declare it.  Please consider our healthy, busy bees- you don't want to be the person responsible for turning their buzz off."

Hear It On the Grapevine

• "Please help us in protecting Western Australia by not carrying quarantine risk material- and we'll drink a toast to you."

Don't mess around with customs; you don't want to be like one of my friends who got pulled aside in customs in Australia for not declaring the shell necklace she was wearing.  She was served with an official notice and was told that she is now on some kind of customs watch list.

Just remember to declare or beware!

Aloha Australia

My Mom arrived in Perth and is busy taking in all of the Western Australian sights.  She is:

• Counting the number of visible nipples through men’s button down dress shirts
• Marvelling over the variety of choices in high visibility workwear
• Being in awe about the high frequency of occurrence of viewing high visibility workwear in all types of places including so-called nice restaurants
• Being amazed that beer o’clock is actually every o’clock
• Exclaiming over the cost of everything in WA; did someone say $12 pre-packaged sandwiches, $20+ sit-down lunches and $7 coffees?
• Learning about, watching and enjoying Junior MasterChef; not yet enjoying the viewing pleasure of RBT and Border Security
• Noticing the frequency of shark spotting in the news

She has already decided that she is:

• Not setting foot in any body of water except an enclosed pool
• Not purchasing any clothes in Australia
• Not eating kangaroo

I’ll have to see if I can talk her out of any of the above.  After all, she will be visiting the Great Barrier Reef.  Still to come is some real Australian wildlife viewing and I am not talking about the kind that involves barefoot people in public spaces including malls, restaurants and bathrooms or large men in very short high visibility shorts with high visibility knee socks.  I’m thinking more along the lines of kangaroos, koalas and quokkas.  And maybe somewhere along the way we’ll squeeze in a meat pie tasting along with enjoying the local wines.  

What's For Lunch?

Apologies to everybody at work for putting this in the fridge today:

Don't worry H, this is not what I had for lunch.  Anyway, these vaccinations can't be that harmful as I have to drink two doses of one and swallow four pills of the other.  What can I say?  I'm getting ready for vacation and it's not all guidebook reading and hotel booking.  Some destinations actually require preventative medicine measures.  Who would have guessed?  At least my welcome cocktails will taste better than my first of two doses of the oral cholera vaccine...

Just Say No to Daylight Savings???

In case you were wondering, Western Australia will not be turning its clocks back an hour tonight.  The referendum to introduce daylight savings to Western Australia was proposed and rejected four times, in 1975, 1984, 1992, and 2009.  Lengthy papers exist on the case against introducing daylights savings to Western Australia.  I'm honestly a bit taken aback by how strongly people feel about this.  Facebook groups exist for "Perth People Who HATE Daylight Savings" as well as "Perth People Who Love Daylight Savings."  Who would have thought it would be problematic to have an extra hour of sunlight in the evening?  I would much prefer it to my 5:00AM wake-up courtesy of the sun streaming in brightly through my shut blinds.  As much as I hate to say it, I miss something else about Doha: the blackout curtains.

Vivre la France, Vivre les Etats-Unis!

I'm saddened to report that on Tuesday I only spotted one fascinator at the office.  However the streets of Perth were full of people in full on fancy dress, hats and fascinators in honor of the Melbourne Cup.  Apparently the bars were overflowing at lunchtime with people dressed to the nines in honor of the race.  I however wasn't privy to this site as I was celebrating the Melbourne cup in a conference room, with the race getting projected in on the teleconferencing system, and a horde of colleagues with an even larger horde of race bets laid out in front of them.


My manager?  He had 16 bets laid out on the table in front of him, and a few other people had a stack of betting tickets that surpassed him.  But he did quite well for himself betting on Americain, an American born, French trained, Australian owned horse, a horse he chose to bet on courtesy of having an American in his group.  And Americain beat the favorite, So You Think, and provided his supporters with quite nice winnings.  I think I should have gotten a round of drinks for that bet....

The Race That Stops a Nation, Literally

Tuesday is the Melbourne Cup, Australia’s major horse race.  It’s held on the first Tuesday of November every year and from what I can gather is like the Kentucky Derby but on an even larger scale.  Talks of hats and fascinators abound everywhere and you can pick up either from everywhere from Target to a custom milliner (or even get a DIY kit).  Did I mention that this race literally stops a nation?  It’s a public holiday in Melbourne which means no work and no school, because of a horse race.  Yes, you did hear me correctly.

While a holiday for a horse race may not ever take hold in New York, the Aussies may unintentionally be on the edge of a fashion trend.  As headbands appear in fashion adorned with bows, flowers and tulle, it isn't much of a step to the fascinator…

Is this the next Blair Waldorf trend?

XOXO,
Anonymous Expat

Redefining First World Standards

Apologies for the long absence.  I would love to say that I’ve been busy enjoying the start of summer in Perth, lounging alongside the Indian Ocean with some good books and a Little Creatures Light Ale or Pipsqueak Cider (or two) in hand but alas I’ve just been busy with work.  This morning my trip to the bank to place a wire transfer has definitely jumpstarted me back into posting though because I have found something else to add to my list of things that Qatar is better than Australia at doing:

1.        Reasonably priced food and services.  I’ve gone from $27 pedicures at the Four Seasons in Doha to refusing to pay $60+ for no name hole in the wall salons in Perth.  Forget $25 entrees at Spice Market and $7 dinners at Thai Snack in Qatar because in Perth, Chinese takeaway will set you back $15 a person (excluding rice, an extra $5 per serving).  Slightly nicer but still casual restaurants in Perth will set you back a minimum of $25 per person excluding drinks for average food.

2.        Internet.  I could go on about this all day but I’ll stick to the basics of set-up and service.  Not only did ridiculously slow to get anything done Qtel in Qatar beat Perth’s Telestra at setting up my internet (about one month versus almost seven weeks) but my internet speed was significantly faster in Qatar versus Australia which you would think would be a more developed country.  Not only that, but after seven months of service, I finally got a correct bill from Telestra.  I only had one incorrect bill in Qatar.

3.        Mobile service.  In Qatar, I could be out in the absolute middle of the desert and still have full service on my phone.  Ok, perhaps my cell phone didn’t work well in my house, but all those concrete walls must have blocked the signal.  In Australia, we lose cell phone coverage all of the time, even in populated areas.

4.        I saved the best for last: banking services.  Today I went to place a wire transfer from my Australian bank to my bank in the U.S.  I arrived at my bank and was told that they couldn’t do it, unless I could figure out how to use their website to do the wire, since all the bank can do is use the same website I use at home.  After realizing that an international wire would actually require the bank employees to do some work, they then told me it was impossible (despite the fact they advertise forex on tv/internet quite heavily).  The coup de grace was when they suggested I go to Western Union if I wanted to send money overseas.  New item on my to do list: ‘find new bank.’

Australia, you might be absolutely gorgeous but your service sucks.  You might want to rethink your ‘fair go’ philosophy because it may be responsible for contributing to such crappy businesses and service industry employees that you don’t even compare to less developed countries like Qatar, in all of their frustrating bureaucratic glory.  I can’t wait to see how your economy does when there is a pull back in natural resources prices.  You export your raw materials, and import nearly all value added products despite your massive tariffs.  Isn’t that what a third world country is supposed to do?

Bottoms Up for Classiness

Sometimes Western Australia is just so classy that I don’t know what to do with myself.  Take this conversation I recently overheard at my office for example:

M talking to A, a colleague who had just returned after a year of maternity leave, “So, what kind of birth did you have?”

A, “It was totally natural.”

M, “Wow, you’re brave.”

A, “Actually, I just got to the hospital too late for an epidural, I was begging the doctors for one.”

M, “Why were you so late, was it a quick labor?”

A, “No, my husband was drunk.”

Apparently the beer was just too tempting to A’s husband, despite her being nine months pregnant and bursting to give birth.

I told H about this conversation when I got home from work that day and he told me that I had already told him the story.  Impossible I told him, I had just overheard the conversation a couple of hours ago and I hadn’t talked to him since then.

Turns out H had heard a similar story at work, from yet another Western Australian colleague.  This guy was wondering if his wife had the right to be angry at him when he broke her no drinking during the last two weeks of her pregnancy rule.  He went out and got drunk one night during this period but she didn’t go into labor so he thought no harm was done.  She on the other hand felt just a little bit differently… 

Only in Australia

My parents are coming to visit us in Australia and are in the process of planning their itinerary.  My Dad e-mailed a company about a snorkel trip:

Dear Anonymous Snorkel Company,

I am interested in booking a snorkel trip in December.  Can you please advise what the weather conditions are in December and what stinger suits are?

Thanks,

Anonymous Dad

The Anonymous Snorkel Company’s response:

Dear Anonymous Dad,

The conditions in December are lovely.  Stinger suits are lycra suits that we provide to keep you protected in the water from stingers. 

Looking forward to your booking,

Anonymous Snorkel Company

Looking forward to our booking?  Yeah right.  This is Australia, doesn’t anybody remember Steve Irwin?  Time to look into some land based activities.  Or perhaps snorkelling in a different body of water.

Dear Australia,

You are brilliant.

XOXO,

Anonymous Expat

And the Winner Is

In honor of the Emmy Awards which aired live in Perth at 10 o’clock this morning, I’d like to take a minute to recognize some of the weirdest television shows that I have ever seen in my life, all of which are shown on Australian TV.  To be fair, some of these shows originate in the U.K.  Drum roll please…

Border Security- Both the Australian and UK versions are aired here and the show is exactly what the title proclaims it to be: a behind the scenes look at Customs, Immigration and Quarantine departments’ day to day happenings. It films angry people in airports getting screened and arrested for potential drug smuggling, people getting fined for bringing in fruits etc. without declaring it, people getting their tourist visas rejected because it’s feared that they will work illegally and thus they get sent home on the next plane, drugs being uncovered in stuffed animals in mail rooms, illegal immigrants getting busted in housing above ethnic restaurants, and bugs being found in shipping containers (all taken equally seriously).  The show is a serious train wreck, I can’t turn it off once it’s on.  My personal favorite incidents include: the woman caught smuggling drugs in her hair weave, the woman arriving to meet her internet boyfriend after dating him for two weeks online, and the Lebanese couple who tried to bring two suitcases full of fruit, herbs, and spices (some of which was crawling with bugs) into Australia crammed into every square inch of their suitcase, including the insides of their shoes.

Grumpy Old Women- All I can say about this show is WOW, is this for real?  To be fair to Australia, this show comes straight from BBC which summarizes the show as, “a group of middle-aged women grumbling about various aspects of modern life.”  H and I found this while channel surfing and again, train wreck, couldn’t turn it off.  While looking for a clip to attach to this post, I found that this show is a spin-off of Grumpy Old Men AND that the two shows joined forces for Grumpy Old Holidays in which they talk about the irritations connected with holiday making.  Do a YouTube search for this show, please.  You need to see this with your own eyes.  It’s absolutely ridiculous.

RBT- This entire show follows police officers as they pull people over for random breath tests.  I kid you not (although I wish I was joking).  Highlights from the show include the middle aged man who was well over the legal limit the (late) morning after a night of drinking and the guy who when asked if he has ever used illegal drugs said no and when the police officer said that illegal drugs can remain in your system for days after ingestion said well, I might have done some meth yesterday.

To round out my list with a much less trashy show:

Edwardian Supersize Me- This comes straight from the BBC (although perhaps from a few years ago) and has a British comic and food critic ‘going Edwardian’ for the week.  They eat typical Edwardian meals, dress in typical Edwardian dress, and participate in typical Edwardian activities.  At the end of the week, the food critic has gained a significant amount of weight and has done some damage to his cholesterol etc.  Who would have guessed when breakfast included an array of sardines, curried eggs, and cutlets and lunch and dinner had over six courses each (about half meat, half fish and then dessert).  This show was actually incredibly entertaining and I’m going to have to look for the Victorian, Elizabethan, and Roman episodes.

Honestly, I had to stop myself because this list could have continued (Police Dogs, anybody?).  While Australian TV may be bizarre, it sure beats the TV show spread in the Middle East: MTV Arabia (airing shows from well over five years ago on repeat multiple times a day, everyday of the week), French news, Italian news, Arabic news, and U.S. sitcoms from 5-10 years ago.  Good thing I like to multitask while watching TV, otherwise I could be at serious risk of killing brain cells.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have some trashy TV to watch (and a huge stack of books to read simultaneously).

Morning Tea... I'm Still Hungry

Call me crazy, but even after two years of being pork deprived in the Middle East, I still didn't find the latest morning tea offering to be at all appealing...bacon and cheese muffins...

Perhaps it was the fact that they spent two days unrefrigerated in the kitchen at work before they made it to morning tea.  Or maybe I just can't call myself an Australian food connoisseur.

Into the Wild

Over the weekend, H and I went hiking about 30 minutes outside of Perth at John Forrest National Park.  It was absolutely stunning and incredible that although from the peak of the climb we could see the city not too far away, we were immersed in what really felt like the outback.  We can't wait to go back!

Meat Pies, Take Two

It’s not often that I get asked whether or not I have ever eaten camel.  Today during another morning tea at work, that precise question was posed to me, as a trick.  As discussed in an earlier entry, meat pies can contain camel (as well as kangaroo, goat, etc.) and one of my colleagues thought that he could shock me into learning that I had indeed eaten camel, although unknowingly, through my consumption of meat pies, the national favorite food.

But the joke was on him when I shocked him by stating that no, I have never eaten a meat pie, and yes, I did in fact know that they can contain camel (as well as snouts, ears, tendons, blood vessels, etc.).  So appetizing, especially at ten o’clock in the morning!  That definitely wasn’t the best lead in to the rest of my colleagues attempting to goad me into finally trying a meat pie.  They even offered up the vegetarian option but I refused to trust that they would actually point me towards a vegetable one since they all look the same to me and my colleagues all act like it is a grave offense to never have tasted a meat pie.

And then the vegetarian of the group arrived and immediately plucked a vegetarian pie from the plate.  Trusting her (and being overwhelmingly hungry), I caved and sampled a vegetarian pie.  It was fine, but I definitely prefer Middle Eastern and Greek versions of the same.  Particularly when half an hour later it had me running to the bathroom.  Could this possibly account for the popularity of pies here???  So just to combine two Australian favorites, how about: meat pies, they give bowels a fair go! 

What Do You Want? A Fair Go!

Something must be in the water at H's office because a huge number of his colleagues' partners (or former partners) are pregnant.  Moreover, the majority of these pregnancies are accidental, out-of-wedlock, may or may not have maintained a relationship with the to-be-born child's mother pregnancies.  We're not quite sure if the Hollywood trend of children before marriage is making its appearance in Australia or if there's a more casual attitude for parenthood here.  Or maybe it is a side effect of Australians' attitudes of just wanting a fair go. 

In surveys of what Australians value most, the right to a fair go is at the top of most citizens' lists.  This right to a fair go extends from everything including rights, social responsibilities, welfare, education, environment, work, health, housing, and social services to the ability to get what one wants during the course of day to day life.  There is a commercial on tv for a pawn shop type store where someone wants a new flat screen tv but doesn't have the cash to buy it.  He is asked what he wants and he says, "a fair go."  He is then asked when he wants it and responds, "NOW!"  Obviously it's an intrinsic right for everybody to have the latest largest flat screen tv available on the market.  There seems to be a blurred line between necessities and luxuries in Australia.   

H and I wonder if it's this desire for a fair go that is leading to all of these unplanned pregnancies.  Because when you think about it, it's clear that contraceptive devices don't give sperm a fair go.  And in Australia doesn't everybody and everything deserve one?

Pass Me the Binoculars, New Careers Await!

At a BBQ last night, I learned about a slew of Australian career opportunities:

Waugal Watching: 
A Waugal is a snakelike dreamtime creature that Aboriginals consider to be responsible for creating waterways and landforms around Western Australia.  When works are undertaken in these places, “Waugal Watchers” are employed to make sure that no Waugals are hurt or disturbed in the process.  The proper set-up for Waugal Watching includes lawn chairs and beer (or another alcohol or drug of choice) by the water.  Intoxication is required.

Marine Mammal Observer:

Marine Mammal Observers (MMOs) are charged with looking out for marine mammals near the area of offshore oil and gas exploration, particularly during seismic studies.  MMOs must identify the marine mammals they observe and pause the use of air guns while the mammal is in the area in order to minimize noise pollution.  One to three day courses are available to become a certified MMO.  It’s almost like going for a paid whale watching tour.

Native Animals Who Have Been Mortally Injured by Heavy Mobile Equipment Killer With Rocks:
Certain places in Western Australia have unique animal wildlife in areas that are used for oil, gas, iron ore, and other mineral exploration and production (ex. Barrow Island).  These animals are protected and monitored by environmental specialists but often get struck by heavy mobile equipment traversing the roadways at night.  When these animals are mortally injured, they need to be put out of their pain.  For some reason, medication is not available to do this with.  Thus someone is called in to deliver blunt blows to the animals’ heads using large rocks.  Lovely!

I may need to consider a change in careers to take advantage of all of the new job opportunities that Australia has to offer!

Excerpts from My Outbox

These are the e-mails that I had to refrain from sending out today.  If only I had decided to risk a Steven Slater style departure from my job, I could have actually sent the following:

Dear Patto,

Thank you very much for submitting your five year plan.  I am happy to see that your site is planning on ceasing operations commencing in 2012, despite a posted operations plan to the contrary.  Otherwise, you must plan on having free labor and materials because I can’t see any other reason for you forecasting zero spend for 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2015.  Nice work with the one year plan, it’s much appreciated.  Too bad you missed the crucial five in the five year plan title.

Thanks and regards,

Anonymous Expat

Dear Dick,

I deeply appreciate you creating your own template for your five year submission despite repeated detailed instructions to use the provided excel workbook.  I understand that you were unable to change the actual monthly costs in the provided template because the cells were locked.  This is because that information cannot be changed.  Actuals are actuals regardless of whether or not they paint the picture you desire.

Sincerely,

Anonymous Expat

Dear Sammo,

Thank you very much for your submission five days past the required deadline.  I understand this was because you couldn’t review your submission with your managing director until yesterday however did you understand that you had the deadline of five days ago five weeks ago and should have scheduled your review session accordingly?

Regards,

Anonymous Expat

Dear Pinky,

No you cannot change your final submissions from one week ago.  Those were called final submissions for a reason.  I don’t care if you have discovered new things that you want to add/remove.  You have had a year to determine what you wanted to submit.

Best,

Anonymous Expat

Dear Kippy,

Yes I really do require your submission by the requested deadline.  I did not pull the date from a crystal ball or decide upon it in order to inflict as much pain as I possibly could on you.  I need your submission by the requested deadline so that your boss’s boss’s boss can review your submission when HE requested it.

Thanks,

Anonymous Expat

Dear All,

Thank you for proofreading your submissions. I am impressed to see that the same cost item for the same year can be shown on one page with three different values.  Obviously I learn something new everyday.

Cheers,

Anonymous Expat

Kangaroo Crossing

I have endless stories to post about my visit to site earlier in the week once I recover from my 4:00AM departure to the airport.  In the meantime, I'll leave you with this snippet from the trip:

Manager (M) driving the totally pimped out rental SUV (flashing light, flag, and snorkel) down the absolutely empty, 100% straight road through the outback:  Have you seen any kangaroos yet?

Me:  Only in the zoo; I'm waiting to see one in the wild.  Although C (my colleague who was sleeping sitting in the backseat) told me that he ran over a huge kangaroo last weekend.  Or rather, that he ran over a huge kangaroo that the car in front of him had hit and then run over.

M: Yeah, 'roos are pretty stupid.  They'll hop into your parked car.  There are a ton around here though.  When I was living out here I hit three in one night.

Me:  Three?  I would have abandoned my car and walked after hitting the second one.  Wait a second, why are you the one who is driving with that kind of a track record?

My company is so obsessed with safety that I can't drive a rental car on site visits until I complete a safe driving course and learn to drive a manual, but M is deemed fit to drive with a track record of hitting three kangaroos in a single night.  And did I mention that he didn't realize the car had a sixth gear until he tried to reverse it about three hours after starting our drive?  Good thing I was decked out in head to toe PPE.  And I have to laugh because Western Australia might not have any semblance of style or designer brands but I was given Bollé safety glasses for my trip.  H might have been slightly jealous when he saw them.  I know what someone is getting for his birthday...

Bali Dreams

On Monday I will be putting my new PPE to use with a visit to a few of my company's sites.  I asked H if he wants a picture of me in my flame retardant work pants, high visibility personalized shirt, steel toe boots, hard hat, and safety glasses.  H's response?  Not only does he want a picture of me in my extraordinarily awesome PPE, but he wants a picture of me in my extraordinarily awesome PPE on site.  Because as he put it, how else can he determine whether or not I swapped my flight to the field for a flight to Bali?

Umm, H, what would you do?

Gross Me Out

Last night, I was putting my dishes from dinner in the dishwasher when a flat brown inch-long bug came crawling over the edge of it.  I screamed and grabbed the closest shoe I could find (H’s flipflop, sorry H) and while continuing to scream, began swatting at it trying to crush it to death.  It quickly scuttled up the side of the dishwasher and took refuge in a crack between the top of the dishwasher and bottom of the kitchen counter.  I continued to try to stab at it but the flipflop just wasn’t small enough to get into the crack to do any real damage.  At that point my phone rang,

H: “Hi AE, how are you? (insert my scream)  Are you ok?  What’s wrong????”

Me: “H, there is a HUGE bug hiding above our dishwasher and I can’t get it out to kill it and it’s HUGE!  I can’t use bug spray on it because it’s our kitchen counter and I don’t want to poison us but, wait, I know, I’ll spray it with disinfectant.”

H (laughing): “AE, you can’t kill a bug with disinfectant.”

Me: “But I can try!!!”  

At which point I began squirting away at the crack, hoping to drown/poison the bug.  And let me just say, this morning when I went to check on the crevice, I saw the bug’s little antennae poking out of the crack and smashed just how I left them.  Hopefully it’s dead!

I am totally grossed out.  I got to work today and told one of my co-workers about my night and she kindly explained to me that the bug I saw last night was a cockroach.  She confirmed this by showing me a rather graphic Google image, DISGUSTING!  I e-mailed the realtor to get an exterminator in ASAP and she said what everybody at work has said: that they’re really common here, especially this time of year (flashback to our ant infested hotel room when we arrived in March?!).  And the realtor said it’s not the owner’s responsibility and that I should go buy some traps which I left work to purchase immediately.  

Of course the first kind of exterminating traps/spray I found in the grocery store was a rack full of rodent poison with quite realistic images on the boxes.  Being petrified of rodents, I stood there shuddering attempting to look through the boxes for bug poison.  Finally I located a rack of bug sprays, traps, gels, etc. and let’s just say if the quantity and depth of selection is any indicator, bug invasions are truly a problem in Western Australia.  As I examined the products to see which I wanted, I may have started to feel bugs crawling over me.  I am not cut out for do-it-yourself-exterminating!  

This evening, when I left work, I told my intern that if I don’t show up at work tomorrow, it’s because I accidentally poisoned myself with my DIY exterminating and that she should come to my apartment to find me.  We both had a good laugh about that but not good enough for her to volunteer her assistance, despite her skills from exterminating her own bug problems at home.

Let’s just say my apartment is now trapped and sprayed and I’m on high alert for any insect movement.  And now I have something to add to my very short list of things I miss about life in the Middle East: the wonderful compound maintenance men who sprayed the perimeter of my house multiple times a week (without being asked) resulting in ZERO unwanted insect/rodent/other animal life guests.  For you, I am forever grateful and wishing you were here to do the same!

We're Happy Little Vegemites

Dear H,

I know that you must be enjoying eating kangaroo, crocodile, and oysters on the rig, but I think that you might really want to come home soon before we run out of what may be the best snack invention ever:

I am really tempted to buy a few boxes of these and leave them out on the table at work where morning tea meat pies are served to see how quickly they disappear.

XOXO,
Anonymous Expat


Vegemite is a dark brown paste made from yeast extract that apparently has a salty, slightly bitter and malty taste.  It was introduced to Australia in 1919 and grew so popular by around the middle of the century that it was even included in army rations.  Vegemite is a rich source of many energy giving B vitamins leading Kraft to advocate its consumption by children, those with active lifestyles, and women who are 'thinking of falling pregnant.'  I've been told that vegemite is such an integral part of Australian life, that the Happy Little Vegemites jingle is like Australia's second national anthem.   Check out the original commercial here: Happy Little Vegemites

Australia is so obsessed that you can go to Kraft's website to take part in a vegemite census asking if you're a nudist, streaker, dunker, wormer, slapper, tiger toaster, vegecadoer, scrambler, edger, redback, or crumpeter in how and where you spread your vegemite.  You can even see the current results proclaiming Australia to be a nation of footy-loving streakers.  See what awesome and ridiculous activities you could have time for if you were to work 37.5 hours or less a week?  The possibilities are endless!

And if you're interested in making your own vegemite pizza, vegemite and beer marinated steaks, vegemite and scrambled egg sandwiches, or vegemite frijole dip (just some of Kraft's plentiful vegemite recipes), have no fear, it's Amazon to the rescue with an at home delivery of, drum roll please...

And if you do partake, please don't forget to share how you spread your vegemite.  The world is waiting with bated breath for your answer...

Flame Retardant Fashion

My Dad was extraordinarily entertained to hear that I purchased steel toe boots and asked if I got any diamonds to go with them.  Haha, very funny Dad.  Since you asked, I did buy something else to match my new footwear: PPE work pants, also known as drill trousers.  The first pair I was issued at work barely went past my knees and were so big in the waist, I would have needed suspenders to hold them up (which probably would have been the most fashionable part of the whole outfit).  The second non-refundable pair that was ordered for me buttoned about five inches above my belly button and umm, how to say this delicately, had such a small distance from the end of the inseam to the waistband that they went majorly up my ass.  Enough was enough, I determined that I would go to the store and novelly, try some pants on before buying them.


Given that I am notoriously hard to fit in normal clothes that have much more variety in terms of size, shape, and cut, I didn't have high expectations for my PPE pants.  All I wanted was a pair that was not comically short and that did not cause my butt serious grievances.  The saleswoman looked me up and down, grabbed a pair of pants from the rack and said, "here, try these, they're new, low rise."  Did I hear her correctly?  YES, low rise PPE pants.  Music to my ears!  Needless to say I got two pairs; they may be navy blue, flame retardant, and have a couple of inches missing from the length that are unnecessarily added to the waistband, but they're low rise and boot cut to accommodate my steel toe boots.  Man am I going to be the best dressed person on site or what?  Speaking of which, when did I even agree to trade in my stiletto heels and pencil skirts for high visibility workwear???

Western Australian Retail Therapy

Yesterday H graciously went shopping with me for some new shoes for work.  H had heard of a good shoe store from some colleagues so after breakfast we set off for some Western Australian retail therapy.  I had been asked by my boss to pick up some new shoes for work with the following restrictions: above the ankle, lace-up, and steel toed boots.  Not even having above the ankle socks, I put on a pair of H's and scanned the shelves looking for something mildly attractive.

"Anonymous Expat (AE)," H said to me, "you can't choose steel toed boots based on what they look like, they have to be comfortable."

"But H," I responded, "those Blundstones are actually nice and people wear them with normal clothes too."

"AE, you're not allowed to get those," H responded, "you need lace-up boots."

"But H, all the lace-up boots are ugly..."

By this point a very nice saleswoman had come over to ask if she could help.  I explained that I needed steel toed, above the ankle, lace-up boots.  She started to describe the merits of each different pair and seeing that I was still focused on the pull-on Blundstones, offered to bring out multiple kinds of lace-up boots for me to try on.  I accepted and sat down with five different kinds of boots in front of me.  At least I got to choose between ugly, uglier and ugliest in various shades of black, dark brown, and tan.

The first four boots were men's and way too wide on my feet, leaving the least umm... fashionable pair as my only option.  

"H, can you feel my toes to see if these boots are too big?"

"AE, they're steel toed, I won't be able to feel anything."

So out came the next smaller size so I could confirm that the boots that my feet were swimming in width wise, albeit less so than in the previous four pairs, were the correct length.  After determining that they were I tried to walk, only to have my heels pop out.  So H sat me down like a small child trying to put a pair of ski boots on (cough, me) and laced my boots up nice and tight.  After a short stroll around the store to determine if they were comfortable I asked H if he had seen a mirror so I could what the boots looked like.

"AE, I don't think there is a mirror in here, and that's on purpose."

So with that, I took my boots off and checked out.  And then the corporate card I had been given for this task was rejected!  When I called the credit card company to determine why, I was told that my card was blocked for use at apparel stores.

"Apparel stores," I laughed, "I'm buying steel toe boots."  So now do I not only have to wear my lovely new boots and break them in, but next I have to figure out how to claim them back on expenses to the company.  I know I was told not to buy Jimmy Choos on my corporate card, but come on...

A Day in the Life of H

Due to lack of planning or lack of qualified people or lack of Australians with any sort of work ethic, H had to jump from one job site to another job site on the other side of the country in under 24 hours.  Australia still has some rather remote areas so it is not a trivial trip to do in one day.  

To get to the nearest airport from his first job site, H arranged for a cab to meet him on the side of the highway.  To get to the highway H begged a ride off a cook from the trailer camp that was set up as ‘housing’ at his first job site.  The cook dropped him off on the side of a dirt "highway".  Fortunately after a few minutes, a camper van from a local Taxi/Tour/Courier/Excursion company showed up and took him on a two hour pre-dawn drive to the nearest airport.  Now I use the term "airport" fairly loosely, this place is more accurately described to most urbanites as a runway with a small building next to it.  H told me that it's not the smallest airport building he has ever seen (that honor belongs to an airport in Kazakhstan that he describes as having the same size and decor as a ski rental shack).  However this airport lacked one crucial feature, security.  Due to a bit of an exhausted mental haze, H didn't think much of it at the time, but when the flight landed and he strolled into the security area of the Perth airport, and got stopped due to a large wrench in his briefcase, he realized he hadn't cleared any security at his first airport of the day.  

The second flight of the day was your standard run-of-the-mill cross-country flight, and following that was a taxi ride to the train station.  Because of the late hour of H's arrival, there were no more trains that night to his destination, so he took a train to a nearby town and was going to catch a cab from there.  However when H went to the train platform there was only a single train car there.  Apparently the train was only to be one car long (for a two and half hour trip).  Shortly after the single car pulled away from the station, an announcement came over the speaker of the car that due to construction work on the tracks, the service would only go about half way to the station, and the rest of the service would consist of a "road coach" (bus).  

After traveling to the end of the tracks and getting on the bus, H had drifted off to sleep, only to wake up with the bus stopped on the side of the road.  The driver was talking on his two-way radio asking dispatch to clarify what type of blood they were looking for.  Apparently someone had put the local hospital's blood transfusion supply on the train, and when the train came to the end of the tracks, no-one checked which bus it was put on.  So H sat on the side of the motorway for about half an hour while the bus driver crawled all over the bus trying to locate the missing blood.  After being unable to locate it they were on their way again.   Finally they arrived at the station about an hour late.  Fortunately the taxi driver H had called to pick him up was still there.  

As they drove the last leg of the journey H was just about to drift off to sleep in the cab as the obese male cabby started talking.  "You know, I got me a pretty good side business I sell things on E-Bay" he continued, " I buy outfits for dogs from wholesalers and then I resell them on E-Bay."  He proceeded to explain the inner workings of reselling dog clothes on e-bay.  "You have to cater to people who want to make dog's part of their events.  Want your dog in your wedding?  I have a package for that, bridesmaid dress or groomsmen's suit, you choose.  Want to take your dog out in the rain, I've got raincoats and boots."

After a lesson in reselling on e-bay, H finally arrived at the hotel for the night from which he would go to the job site the next morning/four hours later.  No one seemed to notice H’s arrival because the next morning, the hotel called H's company and told them he had not checked in.  This raised some concern among the staff at H’s company, however they later admitted that they didn't even know where to start looking if he was lost...."besides" he was told, "you survived worse places..we knew you could take care of yourself in Australia."

God Save the Queen

Today I decided to go wine shopping, specifically sparkling wine shopping.  H is away working and I thought that wine shopping would be a good activity to take advantage of not being in the Middle East.  First off, I walked to the wine store and walking anywhere in Qatar was nearly impossible due to the lack of sidewalks, the heat, and the insane drivers, many of whom would actually speed up on the rare occasion that they saw a pedestrian or cyclist crossing the road in front of them.  Secondly, I can actually buy wine here.  In Qatar there was one liquor store which you needed a license to shop at and our license was in H's name.  Thus wine shopping was an activity I couldn't do alone.

After breakfast this morning I set out in beautiful, sunny, 70° spring winter weather for the wine store.  And what did I find?

Queen Adelaide Sparkling Wine.  I had to get it.  I've found that Australians are on occasion more nostalgic for all things British than actual British people are and this wine exemplifies that.  Google Queen Adelaide and you'll find that she is best remembered in Australia, specifically Southern Australia, which was founded during the brief reign of her husband, King William IV, and where the capital city of Adelaide is named after her.  You'll also find that once his marriage to Adelaide was arranged, the future King wrote to one of his 10 illegitimate children that, "Adelaide is doomed, poor dear innocent young creature, to be my wife."  Tell me, is this really something to toast to?

Who Wears Short Shorts?

Multiple colleagues have asked me about American Football.  Not being a huge fan myself, I understand their thoughts that it's not the most fascinating sport in the world to watch.  However, I don't understand their declaration that American Football players are wusses for wearing helmets and pads.  All  I can say is, have you not seen the uniforms for Aussie Rules Football?  Can their clothes be any tighter and can their shorts be any shorter?  And American Football players are wusses for wearing pads?

Don't Australians realize that such short shorts haven't been stylish in sports since the late 1970s/early 1980s?  Short shorts in sports have gone the way of acid washed jeans, permed hair, scrunchies, and shoulder pads.  Needless to say, in Western Australia, those things haven't gone very far.

Winter? In Perth

In Qatar, I always laughed at how in ‘wintertime’ when the temperature dipped below 100˚, people felt the need to dress like it was cold.  Out came the warm jackets (leather was extraordinarily popular), wool hats, sweaters, and scarves because obviously it gets a bit chilly when it’s only 80˚ or 90˚.  Granted in pre and post sunrise hours, it occasionally got a bit nippy, but winter apparel was worn all day, even during the peak heat of the middle of the afternoon.  And of course, the air conditioning was never turned off in houses, hotels, offices, shopping malls, or cars.  So while I was out sun bathing at the pool in a bathing suit in ‘winter,’ others would be going around town all bundled up and relaxing inside in air conditioning spaces, also all bundled up.

But I have been observing that the 'it’s time to wear warm clothes because the calendar says it’s winter but the thermometer says it’s 70˚' phenomenon, happens not just in the Middle East, but also in Western Australia! 

The official start of Perth’s winter (characterized in guide books as consisting of rainy days and mild temperatures) is June.  Already this week I have seen people out in wool coats, hats, gloves and scarves.  People at work are wearing turtlenecks and tweed and women are wearing heavy opaque stockings with their skirts.  And me?  Well, it feels like what I would classify as East Coast spring weather and except for the addition of a rain coat or umbrella, I'm still dressing in short sleeves, capris, and other appropriate spring apparel.  But please don't think I'm the only one out in the city in shorts.  Although in the MIddle East, people were at least consistent in their 'winter' weather wear, here in Perth, people seem to be a bit confused.  And I'm not talking confused in an Ugg boots and mini skirt combination way.  Because just this week, I have spied  the following weather contradiction wardrobes:

• Women in short sleeve shirts and gloves (winter gloves, not Michael Jackson break dancing gloves).  At first I noticed this trend on the bus, and thought people just didn't want to hold on barehanded, but then I started spotting this trend all over the streets of Perth.
• Men and women in shorts and winter jackets (wool and leather).  I really have nothing to say about this, I'm just confused.
• Women with scarves bundled around their heads like Russian baboushkas when it's 70˚ and sunny.  And generally, the rest of their outfits don't lend themselves to the it's frigid outside effect.

I wondered if people are just preemptively preparing themselves for winter but according to some colleagues, this is it.  Those I know who have grown up here are finding this 70˚ weather cold enough and are already itching for spring. I'll have to see how the next few months go, but it seems like H and I have been sent to another winter (as we know it)-free location.  But I'm left wondering, which is odder?  Wearing a full winter ensemble in warm weather or mixing and matching winter and summer apparel?  Western Australians, maybe you just want to help yourselves to another beer to warm up?  

When Life Sometimes Feels Like Fiction

Last night, H and I went for drinks with a few of H's colleagues.  Sometimes I wonder where the hell I am, not just geographically speaking.

My first pint of beer was accompanied by the following conversation:

B, "I'm going to Duri* (Indonesia) for days off to visit my boyfriend but he'll be working."

Me, "What is there to do there?"

R, "Drink cheap beer and hire prostitutes."

B, "Well, the prostitutes won't do me much good." (B's a woman)

R, "But you can hire them to do things for you, like paint your toenails."

*Duri is an oil town in Indonesia in the middle of nowhere.  Travel sites say, "There's no reason to visit Duri except for business."  Traveling from a reasonably first world country to Duri on your time off requires real devotion.  Often outside women are viewed as unwanted "competition" by the local umm..talent.  

Next conversation (still during pint one):

Me, "Hey, T, nice to see you.  How are you?"

T, "I'm doing well, just got back from the rig a couple of days ago."

Me, "It must be nice to be back."

T, "Not really, they had great food there.  All you can eat ice cream, oysters, and one night they served kangaroo, it was incredible."

Note, T is not Australian, and honestly who would trust seafood cooked by a man with marginal hygiene that more likely than not has spent some time as a ward of her majesty's correctional institutions.  

By this point, I was in need of another pint.

R, "Have you been to a cricket match yet?"

Me, "No but I'm looking forward to experiencing that unique cultural phenomenon.  As Bill Bryson says In a Sunburned Country, in what other sport can you dress in white from head to toe and end the game just as clean as you started it?"

R, "It's great fun, you sit in your blow-up pool all day drinking overpriced beer and eating meat pies and occasionally glance over at the game."

Me, "Wait, did you say blow-up pools?"

R, "Yeah, everyone in the lawn area brings them."

(Break for me to physically close my gaping jaw.)

R, "So you heard I got transferred to Saudi Arabia?  I'm trying to figure out what I can do to be barred from entering the country.  I'm thinking that maybe I'll bring in a load of pornography."

H, "Nah, they'll just confiscate it (and be silently thanking you for providing it)."

R, "Maybe I'll get fake breasts, they won't let a lady man in."

Me, "I think a quick trip to Israel to get your passport stamped would be easier."

After a visit to the bar, for another round, we started talking about R's time in Oman when he got invited to a camel race in the middle of the desert.

H, "You know camel racing has changed a lot.  They don't have child jockeys anymore, they've been replaced by robots."

R, "Yeah, people were putting up a big fuss that all these kids were stolen and forced to work in dangerous conditions for little if any pay."

S, "The kids weren't stolen, they were bought."

H, "But now it's more of a Land Cruiser race than a camel race because all the owners all race beside their camels to control their robots with remotes and they all try to cut off and distract the other drivers to make them drop their remotes."

Where am I and is this the real world or some kind of backwards flushing toilet alternate universe?