After months and months of waiting, our furniture and things – our home really – were finally delivered to our house. Dealing with movers and relocation companies sometimes feels as a Sisyphean task but with time and a lot of patience, the shipment will arrive and life can slowly return to normal. I’m still trying to handle the culture shock that moving back to a Westernized society has provided me with. Here, I’m no longer Madam or Signora, I’m not superior to anyone - we are all equals - and my husband is no longer the obvious Head of the Family. Having moved so many times and met so many removal specialist, I was a little surprised when ALL the crew rang the doorbell and introduced themselves, greeting my husband and me by our first names. The oldest moving man, the team leader I guess, immediately started complaining about our furniture; how heavy it was (”it’s solid wood, we need to be several of us to carry”), how difficult it would be to carry the non-dismantable furniture upstairs as the staircase is not extremely wide (”it’s not possible, we’ll never get it up”), how impossible it would be to get our Californian king sized bed up (”why do you even have such a big bed”?!) and how stupid it is not to have the kitchen on the ground floor (”it’s stupid to have the kitchen upstairs”). I was very tempted to tell the man to stop complaining and put his back in to it instead. Or perhaps finding an other career instead as the business he’s currently in involves carrying other people’s possibly heavy and unwieldy furniture. I didn’t say anything to him other than in my mind where I told him off very sternly. I realized that giving him and his crew a scolding would most likely antagonize them and resulting in a refusal to work and I really wanted our things and furniture to be carried inside the house and not left on the driveway. So I closed my ears, smiled my loveliest smile and at lunchtime I even drove away to get them fresh coffee, doughnuts and lamingtons. This gesture was very appreciated and led to less complaining. The moving men said nothing about the marble table they had to be six people to carry. They did however comment as they left that we have many beautiful things and they were wondering how we would be able to fit it all into this normal sized house. And by the way, they managed to get everything upstairs without too much hassle - just like I knew they would.
Although it’s hard work to unpack all the boxes, clean everything and find the perfect spot for it all, it’s wonderful to have a home again. Fitting everything into our house will be less of a problem than we anticipated. The relocation company in Kuwait lived up to their reputation when they packed our home: a considerable amount of our things are now out of order or seem to have gotten new owners. After I’ve finished unpacking everything, I will start filling out the insurance claim form and THEN I will put up our Christmas decorations. Life in Australia can begin – for real.
Aussies have the reputation of being friendly and easy-going and I must say that it’s true too. Small talk and chit-chat come very easily to them and often the cashiers strike up a conversation with customers. At the bank, in the grocery store, in the department store; I have had very nice conversations with the sales persons, I get friendly smiles from my fellow shoppers and clients. As soon as people find out we are new to Australia, they welcome us and wish us good luck and happiness. But the minute these amicable and outgoing Australians get behind the wheel, something happens. They go from being Dr Jekyll to Mr Hyde in an instant. The chummy Australians show a whole different side of themselves. They drive fast and reckless, they honk the horn at other cars, scream through the windows and do obscene gestures with their hands. Sure, the drivers in Mexico City and Kuwait City were also aggressive, reckless and unfriendly but they were probably not very comradely before getting into their vehicle, not like the Australians anyway. Traffic is where the Australians let out all their frustration and they target other road users like some restrained versions of Michael Douglas in ”Falling Down”. Perhaps it’s better to honk the horn and show the middle finger to complete strangers than picking a fight with your loved ones, just to let some steam off? If you are planning to try this as an alternative outlet for your frustration, I suggest that you have a nice car – preferably a suv. You cannot sit in a small, old or wretched car if you plan on yelling at strangers, people will insult you right back and you’ll get even more upset. The other day a man in an old wreck of a car started shaking his head and rolling his eyes at me who was sitting in my new Volvo XC90. I rolled down my window and asked ”what’s your problem? Never mind. I think I know” and then rolled up my window again and drove away leaving the man in his junkyard-ready car to fight with the driver on the other side of him instead.
P.S: When I need to let some steam off, I bake cinnamon rolls or something else that needs to be kneaded. That is very soothing, therapeutic and it makes the family happy. Try this instead, much better!
Summer season 2012-2013 is here and it is really here, really! We live in a new development and the constructions are still ongoing around us. When the temperature gets over 20C and the sun is out, I feel like I’m living in a music video from the 80’s; all the constructions workers in their 25’s – 40’s are taking off their t-shirts and work with bare torsos! They are all suntanned and muscular and they are working like that, just outside my house where my panoramic windows are providing me with a first-class view. I’m almost expecting them to start singing ”Macho Man” like some Australian 2012-version of the Village People, except they don’t have an native American with a tomahawk in his hand and plumage on his head on their crew. Since I'm a married mother of 2, I have absolutely no interest in watching these hardworking men just outside my windows. I'm just mentioning this in case anyone was wondering what Australian construction workers are wearing during summer. That's all. Absolutely of no interest to me what so ever.
Not only construction workers feel inclined to shed their clothes this time of the year, there are semi-dressed people just about anywhere. I realize this is perfectly normal in a Western society, I just need a little more time to get used to it. I dropped my jaw to the floor when I was in the grocery store the other week. A man in his 60’s - and not with Arnold Schwarznegger’s 60-year old body I might add – was walking around in nothing but a pair of shorts and flip-flops on. He held his groceries to his bare chest and all I can say is that I’m happy I wasn’t coming to his house for dinner.
I’m going to finish this blog entry here. It’s nice weather outside and we live quite close to the beach. Walking distance actually. Cheerio!
Thanks to the Melbourne Cup, this has been a long weekend for most Melbourne residents. On Saturday we decided to go to one of our favorite places here, the Royal Melbourne Zoo. My husband however, does not qualify as one of those with the long work-free weekend. He needed to make some calls and answers some e-mails so he brought along his iPad. He found a place in the shadow, between the giant turtoise and the meerkat enclosures, where he set up his temporary office. Just as he started calling one of his colleagues, an Indian family set up camp right next to him and started changing diapers and feeding their hungry horde. They were really noisy so I did what I thought was right: I took our daughters and left my husband to deal with the loud family himself. If you decide to set up a temporary office on a bench in the zoo on a sunny Saturday, you will most likely suffer the consequences. The girls and I strolled through the zoo, finding our way to the Asian food stall where my husband also joined us several phone calls and a couple of mails later. In the little souvenir shop there, dedicated to butterflies and bugs, I found a lovely thermometer that will look wonderful out on the balcony. Who doesn’t want a thermometer with butterflies? It’s gorgeous and it made me a very happy lady. Anyone who says money can’t buy happiness simply doesn’t know where to shop. And I found happiness in the Butterflies and Bugs’ shop at the Royal Melbourne Zoo.
I did some more shopping in the weekend. I needed a new pillow, the first I bought gave me a stiff neck and it made me quite cranky. Hopefully I will sleep like a princess tonight and wake up tomorrow feeling rested and energetic. Ah yes, and I bought a sewing machine too. I found both these items at the Big Swedish Furniture Place. I cannot sew. I learned the basics in school 30 years ago and I have never evolved after that. Now the time has come to step it up a bit and maybe sew some clothes or maybe just start with a table cloth for Christmas and work my way up from there. As I said, the shopping this weekend made me one happy lady. Oh, I almost forgot, how come I keep forgetting this one?! I bought a car too. Right. I bought a car...
As the true Fashionista that I am, I was thrilled to move to Australia. I had this vision that Australia is a country of fashion, elegant women and good taste. They do have a lot of shops but so far I haven’t been impressed with anything I’ve seen. I went to a fashion show last week and I noted the following trends in Australia: neon and tights. Dresses and tights in neon colors weren’t stylish when they first came in the 80’s and that sure hasn’t changed. And black tights do not go with just about anything, it did some years ago but not anymore. But when the designer asked me what I thought of the show, I said that it was lovely and that she was indeed a talented designer. It was a white lie but hey, we could all go home happy and feel good about ourselves.
There is one accessory that is popular in Australia and in Melbourne in particular: the hat. In this case I don’t mean the sunhat, I mean the slightly ridiculous headpiece you can see female guests wearing at royal weddings. Ladies of all ages dress up in hats for weddings and especially for the horse race carnival in November, the Melbourne Cup. There are lots of fun and beautiful headpieces to choose from, in all colors and shapes and the prices are from affordable to maybe-not-so affordable. I have decided to start collecting hats, buying a new one each year in honor of the Melbourne Cup when all of the city of Melbourne is celebrating to the extent that it is a local holiday. I suggested to the Daughters that we go shopping for hats this weekend, my oldest – my Mini-Me – thought this was a brilliant idea and my youngest thought it was a lousy idea, she has a Ferrari-cap that she’s happy with and claims she doesn’t need any hat, especially one with bows, lace and feathers. I’m sure she’ll be singing a different tune in a couple of years. A lady in Melbourne needs at least one fancy hat, that’s how it is and always will be.
