We're in the Immigration Museum right now in Melbourne. We're on the computer doing some supposed research on our family lineages. There isn't a line or even much demand for the computers so we don't mind using them for our own internet purposes. The museum delves into all aspects of immigration and I was quite excited by how much I have learned about Australia in the last few hours. I find the policies regarding Asian immigrants most fascinating probably because I find their recent immigration stories to be full of drama in their initial loss and desperation that leads, in many cases, to glorious and triumphant endings.
But let me take you back a few days.
On Monday, the day we left Sydney to fly here, we were waiting outside a used bookstore waiting for it to open. Our eyes were sweeping across large piles of books that we couldn't wait to take a closer look at. Across the street from us was a cafe and I noticed a head of dusty brown hair that looked awfully familiar. Upon further scrutiny I realized it was Jimmy E. Wyld! Our diving instructor from Thailand! He seemed pretty engaged in his coffee, chain-smoking, and usual running of hands through hair routine (plus he was with someone) so we didn't approach him. But it was a very strange moment indeed.
In the end the book we settled on is called Holy Cow!, and is about an Australian gal's journeys through India. Reading it has taken me back some months to the filth of Delhi and the gorgeous schoolkids riding buses in Kerala. It also reminds me of my current state of invisibility that I'm enjoying. At first not feeling like the moviestar in town was a little disappointing for the ego but now I'm enjoying not being the spectacle everywhere I go. I blend in and have come to see the effects that blending in has on a psyche. After this trip I feel like I have a little more understanding of what it feels like to be a minority (or a movie star!).
In that tune, I'd have to say I'm surprised at how diverse Australia is, at least in the two largest cities here (Sydney and Melbourne). The Asian population here is booming and you're just as likely to come across a Vietnamese or Thai restaurant as you are to see a Hungry Jack's (Australia's Burger King). Consequently I love it here... despite most restaurant's opening hours that were obviously created by numbskulls or waifs.
We have also discovered this raunchy and delightful sense of humour that Australians have. It is definitely unique despite the similarities to British and Canadian bum humour. We went to a play last night called Cloud Nine which was this incredibly raw and creative story of two generations living in the colonies. More than a few times during the performance it seemed like we were privy to an inside joke that flew over our heads. It's alright though, when I wasn't laughing at the jokes (because I didn't get it), I was laughing at the crowd of pensioners who were getting more than a giggle out of jokes most in America would see as overly perverse. This is Australian mainstream theatre and yet I couldn't help but feel that if we were watching the same play in the U.S. it would be in a small theatre with stacking chairs.
Another testimony to Australia's strange breed of people is a young man we met on the street the other day while we were waiting for the same tram as him. After asking me the time (this is a very common icebreaker here), he asked where the accent was from and proceeded to chat with us. At the end of the conversation, nearing his exit from the tram, he passed us his disposable camera and told us to use up the remaining few photos ("There's a few snaps left") and enjoy his art once we developed the film. He fancies himself an amateur photographer and told us his muse of choice is the grand ole public toilet. I snapped a goofy picture of him and then he was gone. We talked excitedly about the Aussie's love of chatting (with whomever) and then wondered aloud if the photos we are going to develop would reveal him to be a fan of kiddy porn or perhaps our stalker!
Hopefully neither.
tothesea and almost home again,
k~*