When you are born and raised in the northern
hemisphere, and then move to the southern hemisphere as an adult, it’s hard to
grasp the holiday spirit. Even when I
lived in Orlando, and wore shorts on Christmas Day while working at Walt Disney
World, it still felt like Christmas.
Then again, it was Disney, so we had fake snow and Christmas carols
playing everywhere.
Back May, before making my permanent move out here to Australia,
I came out for a one week “get to know you” visit. It was a good thing that trip went well,
seeing as I had already signed a contract and quit my job. During that trip I went to dinner at my soon-to-be-new
boss’s house with his family. His
nine-year-old twins and I got along quite well, comparing recess games,
favourite foods, and holiday traditions.
They have never seen snow except for in the movies, so the idea of a white Christmas was a quite appealing to them.
Last night I happened to notice that A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving was scheduled to air on television in the
States. I must confess that this was the
first time I actually thought about Thanksgiving, partially because we don’t
see Thanksgiving commercials or the corresponding accoutrement in the
stores. But probably also due to the
fact that as I sit here writing this blog post at 6am, it is already well above
90 degrees, hence the idea of cooking a turkey and eating pumpkin pie in
traditional Thanksgiving (i.e. Church of America) fashion lacks
appeal.
But I do have SOME thing- many things, actually- but
ONE thing in particular to be thankful for. My Thanksgiving is being celebrated in style, in my new house,
surrounded by my belongings…. wait for it…. that arrived… from the States! That’s right folks, hell hath frozen over and my ship has come in!
Last week around 2pm my apartment looked like this:
By 3pm, my apartment looked like this:
But, here’s the best part of the story. Back in February when I accepted this job I
started watching everything I could on youtube about Australia. I ran across this television series called Border Security: Australia’s Front Line.
And, let me tell you, the front line takes their jobs seriously. But in all honesty, I can understand their tenacity. Australia is very isolated and has an
incredibly delicate environment. By
being vigilant about what comes into the country, they have avoided many of the
diseases which have proven deleterious in other parts of the world.
For instance, if you typically fly with snacks, make
sure you eat your beef jerky before you arrive otherwise it will be confiscated
due to fear of foot and mouth disease. I
know, I know, it’s a processed food and can’t possibly spread that disease, but
as I said the Australians are cautious, to the point of being almost
paranoid. If you plan to come here for
diving, leave your wetsuit at home. They
don’t want to risk you bringing in any parasites that might be harmful to the
wildlife here. When I climbed
Kilimanjaro two years ago, my Australian “buddies” gave their
hiking boots to our guides and porters because they said they would be
confiscated due to the concern there might be a trace of dirt on them once they
got home. They said they might as well
give them to someone who could use them rather than having them confiscated and
destroyed.
Well, having watched Border Security, read lots and
talked to friends about what I could “get away with”, I was worried that my
bike, golf clubs and wooden giraffe from Africa might meet their demise in
Australian Customs. But it turns out
flattery will get you everywhere. I
wrote the Customs officials little love notes and put them all over my
belongings. And they even wrote me back. Here is the note I put on my golf clubs. And as you can see, they responded by
welcoming me to Australia:
As I’ve said before, I LOVE coming back into the
U.S. after being gone for a long time because the Customs officials always say,
“Welcome home!” after stamping my passport.
But, after my recent experience successfully receiving my things, I
think the Australian Customs Department may be my new bestie- at least on this
side of the (other) pond.
