Australia Paper

Traveling briefly in Sydney and surrounding areas offered a cultural experience different than what I am comfortable and familiar with in the United States—not that Australia was uncomfortable—as well as a different experience from what I am now having in New Zealand. While there are many little things that are slightly different than in the mid-western United States; like where cars drive, the infrequency that I heard English being spoken, a connection to the Pacific Ocean, etc, there are three main things that I felt I could flesh out an essay discussing--Australian foods both in what I consumed and what was available for consumption, attitudes towards indigenous peoples, and city hygiene.
Australian food is like looking in a funhouse mirror--it's familiar and recognizable, but something is slightly off. Many foods, like spaghetti, milk, and beets, are very commonplace things in my life; however, in Australia they were presented in an entirely different context. Other things, like coffee and pre-mixed Alco-pop drinks proved to be nothing but awful. Then, there were a few items that proved to be new and unique to this neck of the woods, if not Australia itself—kangaroo and vegemite.
At Dunmore-Lang, spaghetti was served for breakfast. I like leftovers for breakfast and there isn't anything quite as wonderful as cold pizza in the morning, but spaghetti as an institutionalized breakfast proved to be a bit surprising.
Milk should be refrigerated or it will curdle and become quite nasty. This is something every little Wisconsin girl knows shortly after birth. It is ingrained into us. It is a foundational part of how our world works. Imagine, then, my shock when I was wandering around a Sydney Woolworth’s and came across a shelf of milk. This shelf was not on the edge of the store, as I am accustomed to. This shelf of milk was right in the middle, tucked in between jams and cereals. I examined the milk—who did these Aussies think they were having on?! It seemed like ordinary milk, it didn’t appear to be curdled or rotting or in any other way, shape, or form unfit for consumption. It was just room temperature. Having had this former foundation of my world shattered, I put it down and spent the rest of the day in a kind of a haze—shell-shocked. I later came to find out that the milk in Australia (and New Zealand) is all rendered into powdered milk and then reconstituted for the stores. However disgusting and abhorrent this may sound, and is, it makes sense. China and the rest of East Asia, imports a lot of its milk and powdered milk is easier and safer to transport than whole, holy, liquid milk. As a dairy-state girl, though, I still think it’s gross.
Beets were a small surprise to see in the salad bar each day at Dunmore-Lang. Beets have never before been a staple part of my diet. I’ve nibbled at them here and there at family holiday events, but they never really caught on. However, in an effort to pump myself full of vitamins to stave off jet lag, I began eating them regularly. They are a wonderful thing and go well with most every meal. Even spaghetti on toast.
I was delighted to enjoy a kangaroo burger in Katoomba, though found it strange. Even taking away all of the laws, regulations, and dangers that could be associated, I do not think that American's could take a liking to Bald Eagle breast as a meal. There is something a bit strange about eating one's national symbol, but, in the case of the kangaroo, there could be advantages. Dr. Pemberton mentioned in his lecture on Australian Environmental Issues that there was a “Kangaroos not Cows,” movement in Australia. Because Australia developed without any hoofed mammals, cows, deer, horses, pigs, and sheep are having a detrimental impact on the native flora, fauna, and land. Kangaroos, however, are native and are “meant to be there.” While the movement never really caught on as Australians are resistant to eating their national symbol on a large scale, the idea most certainly has some merit.
Though I have worked as a barista, and am familiar with the joys of fine coffee, I have found that I am not picky about my coffee. I enjoy a variety of gas station coffees and find that a burnt cuppa from South Point in the middle of the night when you know that the grounds have been used two or three times, can't be beat. I am not a snob, but Australia has awful coffee. Though I only broke down once, it seems that Starbucks was the only place that served coffee that met any reliable standard. The college provided vending machine coffee, and I may have been better off drinking fetid toilet water and unfortunately other establishments didn't seem to do much better.
I am not an alcohol drinker in the United States, nor have I truly become one while traveling abroad—bar the odd glass of wine or pint of beer. However, I was surprised to see pre-mixed Rum and Cola’s sold in twelve packs a long with a variety of other drinks sold in cans. I did a little investigating and found out these are often called Alco-pops, and are taxed differently than other alcohols. There is some controversy over this as evidenced by the advertisements that showed up on my sidebar on Facebook while visiting Australia. I learned from my co-travelers that Alco-pop does not exist in the United States, nor are they delicious.
I must admit, I was introduced to the wonders of vegemite by a friend who visited Australia during high school. I was pleased to find that Australians do in fact find Vegemite to be a staple. I enjoyed it every morning with a bit of butter on toast. I am told that it has other applications as well, but was not bold enough to explore much further.
Groceries stores and anything but fast food are not a part of the mall experience for me. In the Macquarie Center, I found at least one grocery store, a fish market, and a green grocer. I am surprised that there would be such a variety of seemingly quality fresh food in a mall. Granted, because I am from a town that is not exactly known for the quality of its mall, this may be commonplace in larger American cities. If it is not, maybe it should be. Long gone are the days of the little independent grocer, now grocery stores are big box stores with enormous parking lots that can only lead to issues with toxic runoff. At least in a mall setting, the parking lots, and other issues are centralized.
While staying at Dunmore-Lang, I met two people who I believe can represent the spectrum, or at least a decent chunk of the spectrum of the attitudes that Australians hold towards Aboriginal Folk.
Junette, a proud, well spoken, out spoken aboriginal woman joined our crew for lunch one day. She stands at one end of the before mentioned spectrum. She was with a group from Wara Wara who regularly visit Dunmore-Lang as a part of a community certification program. Junette believes that more radical action is necessary on behalf of her community and the Australian Government to rectify the injustices and social inequalities in her community.
Kate, a residential advisor, joined a few of us for dinner outside one evening about the same time that we met Junette. Kate warned us that the women from Wara Wara were dodgy, drunk, and had incredibly long armpit hair. Kate went on to talk about the injustices that she as an upper-middle class white girl because she didn't receive as much financial aide as Aboriginal students. She leans toward the other end of the spectrum. We quickly changed the topic to McDonalds and globalization--it was much less uncomfortable.
Both of these attitudes are reminiscent of what I saw when I lived in Minocqua, briefly. At the wildlife center where I worked, we had many people bring in injured hawks from the Lac Du Flambeau reservation and I learned about many injustices and inequalities there. However, many people brought in animals that they claimed were injured by tribal members and went on racist rants about how the world would be better off without them. In a sense, I am relieved to know that these issues are not localized, but are instead the same all over. In another sense, I am disappointed that these issues are the same all over.
The sweet smell of stale urine, neon glows of green, pink, and blue erasing the moon and stars, the musical crunch of glass, and the gentle rustle of potato chip bags blowing in the wind--this is the picturesque urban landscape. As it turns out, this only seems to be true of American cities. Sydney, much to my delight and surprise, was immaculately clean, free of the plethora of odors offered by human excretions, and had no obnoxiously bright and flashy advertisements! I was also impressed at how well homelessness was hidden and how efficient the public transportation was. I also noticed a difference in how water was used—though it was not at all what I had expected.
Litter is an issue that plagues most places. It seems to be a result of fast food chains and careless kids. Many of these careless kids, I am sure, grow into careless adults, and towns, cities, and roadsides end up looking neglected and ugly. However, in Sydney, there was noticeably less litter and the city seemed well looked after. This leads me to wonder why it is so clean. Have there been city initiatives to keep the place looking good? Are the people free from the chains of apathy? Or do Australians simply produce less waste and litter is obsolete? I don’t believe that the latter can possibly be true, and I don’t know abut any city initiatives, but I did see store owners sweeping their walks throughout the day and people—probably as an aspect of community service—scraping gum off of the sidewalks. I am interested to know though, how Sydney’s system has become so much more effective than say Milwaukee’s or Chicago’s.
Though I looked and looked, I only saw one person who very likely was homeless. I was not accosted by people looking for change nor was I approached by any vagabond, rapscallion street performers. I cannot imagine where homelessness and extreme poverty are not an issue, however, in Sydney it was hidden. I would like to imagine that this is because there is a wide net of soup kitchens and other support networks for those down on their luck as well as government assistance to keep people off of the streets. However I know that this may not be the case. Thankfully, the buses, trains, and ferries of Sydney did not smell like vomit and urine as did the metro of Washington D.C and the Trolleys of pre-Katrina New Orleans. The operators of all of these transport modes were friendly and helpful, and unlike in New Orleans, I was happy to not have any of my limbs shut in the door by an inattentive operator.
I most often used the bus while in Sydney, and was impressed at how courteous the other patrons were as well. All hollered a, “Thank you!” as they disembarked. Once, when our bus driver took a wrong turn off of the route, instead of shouting things like, “What are you doing moron?” as I would expect anywhere in the United States, one woman piped up and said simply, “Bus driver, you are going the wrong way,” and the situation was rectified with dignity and without humiliation. The buses, unlike those of Stevens Point, deliver people to useful locations and are quite accurate time wise.
In Australia, because it is mostly a desert nation and has limited access to fresh water, I expected much more water restrictions. Things like, “If it’s yellow leave it mellow,” water faucets that aren’t leaky at least as a matter of culture if not actual policy. This wasn’t the case, however, as I found no signs in the Dunmore-Lang facilities advising me to leave anything mellow, but I found plenty of leaky faucets and highly inefficient showerheads and toilets. Fortunately, though, I learned that there are restrictions on when a hose can be used, to prevent evaporation during the warmest parts of the day. I also learned, in Dr. Pemberton’s lectures, that rain barrels are growing in popularity as a means to water one’s lawn and the Australian government even offers subsidies to those who follow this trend. Ultimately, this leads to cleaner cities.
Despite the differences I have discussed, Australia, as a westernized former British colony isn’t all that different from the United States. The simile I used when discussing food is quite apt, Australia is a funhouse mirror reflection of the United States in a lot of ways, and as a result, I did not experience too much culture shock. That isn’t to say that Australia is not a unique and valuable place on this planet—it is. However, I am finding as I begin to explore the world, that people, places, and culture—in British colonies at the very least, may not be as different as I originally thought. There is some logic that isn’t unique to North America, but may in fact be a human trait.