G'day mate! People really do say that here! Another common greeting is “How you goin?”(to which the first day I wanted to respond “I… is goin’ good…?” That’s how unnatural is sounded.)
It's been a whirlwind since I arrived in Sydney last Tuesday to work for the BU Sydney Internship Program for a year. My work environment has taken a complete 180 degree turn from where I was this summer, i.e. getting paid minimum wage and working absurd 16-hour days.
I live in the BU Residence, and to go to work at my many jobs next door, I simply walk out of the building and into the next one. Every night of orientation last week involved alcohol, now that was something to get used to, drinking with coworkers as part of the job. The program hosts a social each night, usually with open bar that Drew and I were bartending. Drew is my counter-part Senior RA, he's just graduated from USF and did the Sydney program last fall. He's a great resource and we remind each other daily of what a sweet deal we have here in Australia. Our third Musketeer is Pascal, the residential manager, my new boss and new favourite person. We affectionately call him Fresh P and he's as laid-back as they come. I'm now on "Pascal time" which means I just come a half hour late to everything. He’s taught me much already about how to be street-smart in Sydney.
Move over Europe, Australia officially has the worst driving I've ever witnessed. Within my first three days here, I've heard more "F*#@ off!", shouting, beeping and swerving than in France, Italy and Boston combined. Pascal has pointed out a very important cultural difference here: the time it takes for a shouting match to disintegrate into punches thrown is much shorter. That's to say if you're cursing someone out in the street, watch out. You may find yourself getting a fist right in the jaw. In the States, shouting matches usually go on for a good chunk of time, enough to attract a small crowd, and end with a final “S*@# head!” and someone speeding off.
Other things to watch out for: don’t stand too close to the curb or you’ll get your head near chopped off by a bus whizzing past. Crossing the street is proving to be the hardest part of my day. As if training yourself to look right before crossing isn’t hard enough, Aussies are apparently famous for running red lights and texting while driving. Fantastic. And the crosswalks—oh, the crosswalks. If you’re not in a zebra crosswalk…you will be run over. The loss of pedestrian rights that Americans enjoy at home makes me nostalgic for India, where all pedestrians are at the bottom of the totem pole.
I live in the BU Residence, and to go to work at my many jobs next door, I simply walk out of the building and into the next one. Every night of orientation last week involved alcohol, now that was something to get used to, drinking with coworkers as part of the job. The program hosts a social each night, usually with open bar that Drew and I were bartending. Drew is my counter-part Senior RA, he's just graduated from USF and did the Sydney program last fall. He's a great resource and we remind each other daily of what a sweet deal we have here in Australia. Our third Musketeer is Pascal, the residential manager, my new boss and new favourite person. We affectionately call him Fresh P and he's as laid-back as they come. I'm now on "Pascal time" which means I just come a half hour late to everything. He’s taught me much already about how to be street-smart in Sydney.
Move over Europe, Australia officially has the worst driving I've ever witnessed. Within my first three days here, I've heard more "F*#@ off!", shouting, beeping and swerving than in France, Italy and Boston combined. Pascal has pointed out a very important cultural difference here: the time it takes for a shouting match to disintegrate into punches thrown is much shorter. That's to say if you're cursing someone out in the street, watch out. You may find yourself getting a fist right in the jaw. In the States, shouting matches usually go on for a good chunk of time, enough to attract a small crowd, and end with a final “S*@# head!” and someone speeding off.
Other things to watch out for: don’t stand too close to the curb or you’ll get your head near chopped off by a bus whizzing past. Crossing the street is proving to be the hardest part of my day. As if training yourself to look right before crossing isn’t hard enough, Aussies are apparently famous for running red lights and texting while driving. Fantastic. And the crosswalks—oh, the crosswalks. If you’re not in a zebra crosswalk…you will be run over. The loss of pedestrian rights that Americans enjoy at home makes me nostalgic for India, where all pedestrians are at the bottom of the totem pole.
The last night of Orientation we went for a lovely harbour cruise, under the famous Harbor Bridge and right to the Sydney Opera House. It was a good time to catch up with my new coworkers. I was talking with Caroline and mentioned my trip to India a few years back and how the book Holy Cow by Sarah McDonald inspired me to travel there. Let me make a note here that I’ve been dreaming about meeting this Australian author and telling her how her book opened my eyes, changed my life, and inspired me to travel, volunteer and work abroad. Truly incredible book by a truly amazing woman. And guess what? Caroline, upon hearing her name, told me she was a guest lecturer at BU Sydney this summer for the Travel Writing Program! I might actually have a shot at meeting her! She’s probably the only person in this world I want to meet and just say…thank you. Fingers crossed!
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