tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216604972024-03-14T20:06:32.071+10:30Suzer's Expat Adventures"Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveler, belonging no more to one place than the next, moves slowly, over periods of years from one part of the earth to another." -Paul Bowles
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<img border="0" src="http://tickers.TickerFactory.com/ezt/d/4;10732;6/st/20070903/e/Our+Marriage/dt/16/k/0280/event.png"></a>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.comBlogger424125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-10817256182231171542021-12-24T07:42:00.001+10:302021-12-24T07:42:27.686+10:30Covid moments<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNBz5ZpsXERbQOXQtnLHY5bCGOWEtxdYXG_qQ8FCgnSwJanfKPmCx0SCYQOQsXO5jkPFBaAH6vp49pVBlUQkfmN-ItdiviHqMcKXpePQXxGpuQ9atD8Cq5O_nhPRHmJ48yOpTG5eyf0HMeOgq159SfB1quD1GkwmRT9Gow4-8yrPN0xFtr8A=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNBz5ZpsXERbQOXQtnLHY5bCGOWEtxdYXG_qQ8FCgnSwJanfKPmCx0SCYQOQsXO5jkPFBaAH6vp49pVBlUQkfmN-ItdiviHqMcKXpePQXxGpuQ9atD8Cq5O_nhPRHmJ48yOpTG5eyf0HMeOgq159SfB1quD1GkwmRT9Gow4-8yrPN0xFtr8A=s320" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />I went to get a coffee the other week, and waited outside for it to be ready. While I was waiting and listening to music, I was probably doing a bit of a sidewalk dance. Suddenly, I noticed the barista waving me down. My coffee was ready. I walked up to the window and said, I'm sorry but I was miles away. He looked me in the eye and said, isn't it wonderful to be miles away. The funniest part was recounting this to a friend while we were hiking. He thought some random guy walking past was waving to me because he wanted to join in my dance. We nearly fell down with laughter on the hiking path. </span><p></p>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-31821642160190570292015-06-26T22:50:00.001+09:302015-06-26T23:02:19.761+09:30Is there anyone out there?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Does anyone ever visit this old blog anymore, I wonder, ten years on. I'm just a few weeks back from a 3 week solo holiday in Europe. It's the second international holiday I've had in the past year, and I've visited 7 countries in total amongst the two trips; 6 of them were on the latter of course, the former being to the States, where I visited the magnificent Powell's in Portland. One of the many countries I visited while in Europe or thereabouts was Iceland, and I highly recommend a hike to the hot springs in the Reykjadalur Valley. That little platform in photo one is where you toss off your clothes and pop on your bathers, after an hour long hike through the hills. If you're lucky, it won't rain on your all the way back, where I learned for the first time that wearing glasses in the rain stinks. Almost 40, wearing specs, I'm going to become my own old favourite soon. I recall when a 40+ year old man was an exotic novelty. Now I'm married to one. We both loved our separate trips this year. The 25 year old I met in the hostel bar in Copenhagen (also from Chicago) thought we must be an 'awesome' couple.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-51105844636959781252014-02-06T16:01:00.001+10:302014-02-06T16:01:12.393+10:30Here for Life...I thinkToday's post is a query: would you move to another country after this? Sounds exhausting. I've already lived in 5 countries, and it's hard enough to pack up and head out with a couple of suitcases and a few extra boxes of stuff. I can't even imagine moving house, much less to another country. Sure, it would be nice to experience a new place for more than a few weeks at a time, and if I had a chance to live and work somewhere for a few months, I might leave my husband to his own devices for a short while, but another proper move just wouldn't happen, unless there were very extraordinary circumstances.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-65131540588673247242014-02-05T15:33:00.000+10:302014-02-06T15:33:32.598+10:30Meanwhile, at the airport...I used to put pictures of my travels up on the blog. Now, they end up on Facebook instead. Instead of a handful, there are hundreds, and it's where I go to look first for my holiday pics. This past weekend, I headed to Canberra for a couple of days. When I first asked people for recommendations of things to do there, I was told to 1) watch the traffic lights change 2) check out Costco and 3) see if the Rex Hotel is still around and whether they do break in those little flower pots still (Bill Bryson reference and on a sidenote, if you haven't read his book about Oz and live here, it's a must read). I'm glad I've paid attention over the years to the one or two people I know who went to Canberra and loved it. It's definitely a museum nerd and wino's paradise. There's even some spectacular food and beer, so I'm not sure what there is not to like. Anyway, this is how we felt about Canberra.<br />
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Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-49745830987393666602014-02-04T16:40:00.000+10:302014-02-04T16:40:17.240+10:30In Hindsight...Today's post is meant to be a reflection; looking back at my <a href="http://suzerblog.blogspot.com.au/2005/09/laundry-and-petrol.html" target="_blank">5th post ever on this blog</a>, over 8 years ago, I can't believe how quickly the time has flown. I can vividly remember all of the experiences I describe in that post, and how exciting all of the mundane elements of life were, my first week living in the UK. The individual bits and pieces aren't as important as the overall experience, and the small things were key. This is probably why my writing has slowed down. All of the little new experiences have just morphed into the everyday. The expat experience isn't as exciting to write about anymore, as it's just normal life these days.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-65226986254927343242014-02-03T19:23:00.000+10:302014-02-04T12:17:30.116+10:30An object that makes me feel at home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mentally walking through all of the rooms of my house, and at the same time reminding myself that the word home doesn't necessarily mean the place of my origin, I settle on my bookshelf. It's one item that contains many. I spent years after moving abroad looking through second hand adverts online for a bookshelf with character; my antique barrister bookcase back in Chicago, which may or may not eventually make a trip to Australia, still contains many of my most beloved books. I bring a few back with me every time I visit the US, and am amassing a collection on this end as well in the meantime. They needed a home, preferably one with glass doors, and nothing too new. It took me 4 years to find a bookcase I liked, and when I did, it took us two trips to collect it from an hour away (it didn't fit in the truck the first time around) and a lot of manpower to get it into the house. It's now a solid, sturdy home for many of my treasures, which include more than just my books.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-7160379422129728832014-02-02T09:00:00.000+10:302014-02-03T09:29:13.856+10:30"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. TolkienThe theme for today reminds me of a quote I keep on my blog home page, by James Baldwin: "I met a lot of people on holiday. I even encountered myself." In some ways, I feel like I've grown into my adult self since moving to Australia; becoming a wife, homeowner and permanently settling in my forever home has not only been confronting, but stabilising. I always knew I wanted to live somewhere other than Chicago, even if just for a trial period. As much as I wanted to experience living in another country, I also wanted to escape the bitter cold of the Midwest winters, which keep you inside for months at a time. Add that to my love of travel, and it was a given that I'd end up somewhere else. In the beginning, it's all an adventure. Then one day, years down the road, you look up and realise...this is it. The adventure is over, and it's just plain old life. Same shite, different country, but you're all grown up. The past 10 years have blown by, your greys are getting well and plenty, and people back 'home' say you talk different now.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-53488331709455858782014-02-01T09:00:00.000+10:302014-02-03T09:29:20.657+10:30The View from Where I Write<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This month I'll be attempting to keep up with the Expat Blog Challenge. 28 days in a row seems a bit ambitious, given my lack of writing over the past few years, but a kick in the pants never hurts. The theme for each day will be in the subject line of the post, and today's topic is the view from where I write.<br />
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Whether I write in my cosy office at the back of the house, or sitting on the sofa in our front room, when I look up, I see eucalypt (gum) trees soaring overhead. They tower over the neighbourhood homes, constantly dropping nuts, leaves, and sometimes even branches as thick as a body builder's leg and longer than a pick-up truck. The interesting thing about gumtrees is that no matter how big they get, whether they threaten to fall on your house or person, you cannot cut them down. They're protected, and once they get to a certain size, as beautiful as they are to look at, they can become a real pan in the arse. I could spend hours every week cleaning up after these monsters, clean the gutters three times a year, and have enough kindling to last all winter. It's a love hate relationship, similar to expat life. Something to enjoy the beauty of, you never quite get over the uniqueness, but the labour of it all can be exhausting at times. <br />
<br />Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-87124748075434639312013-04-13T08:14:00.000+09:302013-04-13T08:14:11.449+09:30Getting Ready for WinterSat around the table on a Friday at 4:30pm surrounded by my co-workers, my Mom, who is visiting for 3 weeks, was surprised by how many people don't have proper climate control in their homes here. I've been telling her about it for years, but I think hearing it from the locals, and so many of them, drove it home. It is that time of year in Australia when, despite it still being 29C out, we turn our thoughts to the cold weather coming. In addition to the actual weather conditions this year, I'll also be thinking about my health during the long, wet season, and not just my physical health. Whilst seasonal depression is often thought of as a Northern hemisphere problem, it can just as easily creep up on you in the Antipodean region. While the months between May and September creep by, the dark comes upon us early, and the rains keep coming, nights at home without heat (either because you don't have it or you can't be arsed to start a fire in your combustion heater) get long and exhausting, even if it is only 14C/60F in your house most evenings. I generally crawl into my waterbed with my dinner, and watch TV from about 7pm onwards. That doesn't help keep me motivated and active enough, so this year, I'm making a few changes, particularly as winter will show it's face soon after one of my international visitors leaves. I plan to use my 3 month old gym membership at least twice a week, and I have a stack of books to read. I've also joined a few interest groups and am actively trying to meet more people and get out of the house more. That combined with a few practical heat savings tips around the house, sealing up gaps in the walls and completing a big ensuite reno with a nice new shower...and heat lamp, and this winter should be mint! I'll let you know how it all goes. If you see me blogging more, that's a first indication it's all working.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-9628301558492319382013-02-27T19:31:00.002+10:302013-02-27T19:36:36.503+10:30The 5-year mark<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am a very firm believer that Facebook and other social media outlets are literally shortening our attention span. Someday there'll be research on this. The fact that I haven't blogged in over a year is evidence. Why write a paragraph when I can just as easily shout out a line or two that gets more of a response and greater (instant) interaction. Seeing my nieces and nephews with iPhones and other devices makes me cringe. I want to buy them a plug in phone or a book...or a passport. There's nothing like a good read or some overseas experiences to broaden your mind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I started out just wanting to travel, then wanting to live abroad for at least a short period. As we know, meeting a sexy foreign dude sometimes changes the path considerably. In a little over a month, I will have lived in Australia for 5 years as a permanent resident. I've gone from provisional permanent, to completely (independently) permanent, to a proper citizen. Knowing from Day 1 of my (2nd) arrival in Australia that I was here for good hasn't always been a pleasant thought. Thankfully, those days are over. Although my other half still gives his workplace too many hours of his life, I've had time to develop my own interests, and I can say without a doubt that I'm happy here now. Hmmm, maybe Kafka was right when he said there's no point to writing when you're happy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today, I got home from work, checked the mailbox, and saw an envelope from the Department of Transport. Knowing full well my car rego wasn't due for a few months yet, the only other thing I could think of was a speeding ticket. Before I even opened it up, I thought I might have to run to the JP at the local council to pass it along to the old man, as he's been driving my car quite a bit, and we all know who the creeper is in this little family. But lo and behold, it was my driver's license renewal. Who would have thought I'd been living here long enough to need to renew my license. What a thing - times flies, when you'e enjoying your life.</span>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-64672354618282801192012-01-11T21:06:00.001+10:302012-01-11T21:06:25.000+10:30Integration, Part 2<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The other day it was suggested to me that I shouldn’t allow locals to join the Expats in Adelaide group. I hesitate to even post this, to be honest, as I don’t want to risk anyone not joining on this basis. It was a one off and to me, bizarre complaint, which ended in my apologising to the person that the group was too inclusive for her, at which point she removed her membership and advised me she’d be letting people know how awful I am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then this morning, I got an email from an expat web site that stated that it was too restrictive to call themselves an expat site any longer, citing that these days, there was a need to be more inclusive, and that expats need to integrate into the wider culture, hence they would now be focusing on the greater community as an audience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Aussies who return home from overseas, and even those who move states within Australia often join up to the expat group. They’ve been away and come home to find that they’ve changed and they need a little something more than their high school friends, they miss the international atmosphere, or they come to Adelaide from Melbourne or Sydney and just want to meet more people, Aussie or not. We even have some Adelaidians who’ve always been here but are keen to try something new. One of the most difficult things for expats here can be meeting locals, so I encourage them, and am pleased when I see an Australian join up. The more the merrier I say!</span>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-15961456679278959942012-01-10T21:25:00.000+10:302012-01-10T21:27:59.582+10:30In Support of Integration - A Letter to the Editor<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Who knows if they'll publish it, but here's my letter to the editor at The Australian:</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While reading the article in The Australian, </span><a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=web&cd=5&ved=0CFcQFjAE&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theaustralian.com.au%2Fnational-affairs%2Fimmigration%2Fhygiene-lessons-will-help-migrants-integrate-coalition%2Fstory-fn9hm1gu-1226240326959&ei=JRgMT7bYOau6iAfR_P38BQ&usg=AFQjCNHUAP-DpAgkTkjrKob5iqYZUYl6ag&sig2=TaWQSjz5CU8yoyQZnrwG2w"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Hygiene lessons will help migrants integrate</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">, I was reminded of my orientation day at university in England, where we were given a list of English customs we would not be familiar with as newcomers. This included topics such as queuing, health care and tenants rights, amongst other things we had no knowledge of. Had I not been given these helpful bits of information, it's very possible I might have done exactly what I was used to doing in Chicago - standing around then going straight to the front door of the bus when it arrived, easily offending those lined up patiently. Knowing the right thing to do in a new place is not common sense, and even coming from an English speaking nation originally doesn't prepare one for the many cultural differences in everyday life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Teresa Gambaro raised an important issue in relation to immigration; that of integration and the fact that the Government is failing to assist new migrants on how to fit into Australian culture. Taken out of context, one might easily judge Ms Gambaro. I'm dissappointed to see migrant advocacy groups take immediate offense, rather than seeing that Ms Gambaro might actually be an advocate herself for new migrants. Diversity training in Australian workplaces is not only a good idea, but a necessity, for both current and new Australians, so that we can learn about each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Look at the bigger picture instead of grabbing the most negative aspect. Perhaps Ms Gambaro should not have included a potentially offensive topic such as body odour, but her overall message of doing more to assist new migrants to integrate into Australian culture is something we should all pay attention to. Long term, what will the future Australia look like if we stick to ‘our own’ and don’t work harder on integrating cultures. We have an opportunity right now that will pass us by.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>And to read what Teresa Gambaro's message actually was (back in September), look </em></span><a href="http://www.liberal.org.au/Latest-News/2011/09/07/Socially-Skilled-Workers.aspx"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>here</em></span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>.</em></span>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-48087053948868391072011-12-08T18:11:00.001+10:302012-02-27T21:09:05.077+10:30My Aunt Lydia Shelf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I got a fantastic package in the mail yesterday, from my Mom and Aunts Liz (& Lydia). I really should have taken a photo upon opening it up - everything was secured in bubble wrap, and with absolute care and attention to detail, which was no great surprise, as that care and attention are all I saw when I went home on my last visit. For the past 15 years, since the death of my Aunt Rose, my Aunt Lydia has lived near us, and I think her last few years were some of the happiest in her life, due in part to her own wonderful attitude towards life, and the presence of her two sisters being nearby. Aunt Lydia could teach us all a thing or two, about being not only open but enthusiastic to new situations and people, always keen to make a new friend, and content with living in the moment. I was lucky to inherit all of her White Sox memorabilia, and found a nice spot to display it proudly.</span><br />
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<br />Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-59834475798842227282011-12-06T18:35:00.004+10:302013-11-05T19:47:59.530+10:30Sunny with a Chance of Storms<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tomorrow is my Aussie work team Christmas day out. The weather is forecast to be sunny and 34 (or 92 for you Camericans). We'll be sailing, or catamaraning, to be more exact, then having a nice lunch, followed by some cricket or perhaps another drink or two, for those of us who can't drag ourselves from the pub to the dry zone. Add to this the fact that after over 4 years in the Southern hemisphere, I finally feel settled in and am looking forward to the holiday season in the heat, and I should be totally stoked. My bag is packed with sun tan lotion, a hat, a scarf, and a mango slicer, but I've lost my enthusiasm. A little after 9am perhaps, a sound such as that you might hear coming from a local mosque started to grow louder. Slowly, my co-workers gathered at the window. (Keep in mind that I've seen Australians march in the streets every few months these past couple of years that I've had the privilege to work in my current job.) The men went first, and then the women all joined hands and gathered onto the road, slowly beginning their own chant, and helping to hold up hand made banners, giving name to Imam Hussein. Apparently, he was a martyr killed in 680AD and this walk was part of the traditional Ashura commemorations, a Muslim holiday season of sorts. Unfortunately some of my co-workers decided it was an appropriate time to vent their personal opinions. The Muslims must be protesting, it was assumed, and perhaps because they had not yet turned Australia into a Muslim state. Traditional festivities in local schools are no longer going ahead, and it's the fault of the foreigners. Dear god, this is Adelaide, and we certainly wouldn't want any changes! If you've seen the world headlines today, you'll know that </span><a href="http://www.adelaidenow.com.au/news/breaking-news/iraq-bomb-attacks-kill-shiite-pilgrims/story-e6frea73-1226214729375"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">not all marches went on peacefully today</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, with only background noise. One wonders if any of those out on King William Street today might have been out in the crowd of which almost 30 people were killed today, had they not been given refuge here in South Australia. Don't get me wrong; I love coming into work and seeing a Christmas tree and reindeer on display, but I'm not always sure it's worth the trade off. I think we foreigners need a catch phrase. We're queer, We're here! is already taken but the simple fact is, we're here. We're here to stay. We're here and we all need to be accepted. We're here and we need to be able to bring our traditions with us, and celebrate who we are. If we aren't accepted, we can't integrate, and if we can't integrate, what does the future of Australia look like. Pretty bleak, I think...</span></div>
Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-75078366985402064332011-11-17T17:58:00.002+10:302011-11-17T18:16:29.532+10:30Virgin, You've Failed MeMy consideration turned to intention, but the experience didn't come near to meeting my expectation. Not considering the fact that online check-in and airport kiosk didn't work on my reservation, or that the pilot never announced that we would be 20 minutes late to our destination on the outbound flight, or that we were welcomed onboard 30 minutes before landing back in Adelaide on the return flight, Virgin did not do it for me. The reason why would be the flight attendant's reaction upon hearing my accent when I ordered a ginger beer. The conversation went like this:<br />FA: "Are you on your honeymoon!?"<br />Me: "No."<br />FA: "Oh, ummm....well it's just that...your rings are so sparkly."<br />Me: "Ok."<br />FA: "So how long are you travelling in Australia for?"<br />Me: (becoming annoyed) "The weekend."<br />FA: "Oh, but how long in total are you travelling around?"<br />Me: "I'm going to Perth for the weekend."<br />FA: "Yes, but where are you from?"<br />Me: "Adelaide" (thinking - you dumb %#$@ I live here)<br /><br />End of conversation. Expats - do you hate this the way I do?Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-9805952169245918602011-08-03T14:30:00.003+09:302011-08-03T14:36:54.386+09:30Why Don't you Tell me What you Really Think?Remember the last time you broke up with someone and suddenly, your friends started telling you what they really thought about that person? He/she wasn't good enough for you, was boring, loud & obnoxious, or just plain lazy and irresponsible. (Not that I've ever dated anyone like that.) I sold my car last month. Remember <a href="http://suzerblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-time-for-new-car.html">this car</a>? This is the car I used to make excuses for, was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">embarrassed</span> to drive, and secretly wondered how long was going to be around. My acquaintences used to comment that its flaws weren't that bad and that it was perfectly reliable for my needs. And then I sold it. Suddenly, people wanted to know how far I thought the new owners would get on their road trip to Darwin. Comments started coming along the lines of "This new car is soooo much better. We were worried about you in that car. That car was bad!" I wonder what they all think of my husband...and my house!Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-52899707714355964452011-06-28T19:03:00.000+09:302011-06-28T19:05:26.707+09:30Are you a Trailing Spouse?The trailing spouse is often defined as one who makes the move abroad to follow a partner on a work assignment and due to visa restrictions, is prevented from seeking employment for themselves. These spouses are often seen as either living a luxurious, carefree lifestyle, or being bored and neglected. It's a narrow definition and one that I think should be broadened. Many of us end up expats out of circumstance rather than choice. While I wanted to live abroad, Australia wasn't on my radar. Now that I've settled here I like it, but I definitely followed my husband, and I have often felt that the term trailing spouse applies to me. Did you ever consider yourself a trailing spouse, and if so, why?Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-19337332057279076392011-06-20T12:15:00.013+09:302011-06-20T12:42:16.843+09:30Singapore<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9LULTDkaQw/Tf65s-2dH6I/AAAAAAAABSE/pCSK_jr2o0o/s1600/DSCN1795%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620133567441739682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9LULTDkaQw/Tf65s-2dH6I/AAAAAAAABSE/pCSK_jr2o0o/s400/DSCN1795%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKA8Ggbx_Qo/Tf65O7s-mDI/AAAAAAAABR8/comH2V6-OH8/s1600/DSCN1991rs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620133051200608306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKA8Ggbx_Qo/Tf65O7s-mDI/AAAAAAAABR8/comH2V6-OH8/s400/DSCN1991rs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ggabHA6so40/Tf64ysCRtlI/AAAAAAAABR0/RuQbtfGCQAU/s1600/DSCN1955%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620132565958637138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ggabHA6so40/Tf64ysCRtlI/AAAAAAAABR0/RuQbtfGCQAU/s400/DSCN1955%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tri228pKSKI/Tf64fCuecGI/AAAAAAAABRs/0QYZeqE3Cus/s1600/DSCN1814%2Brs%2B%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620132228452216930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tri228pKSKI/Tf64fCuecGI/AAAAAAAABRs/0QYZeqE3Cus/s400/DSCN1814%2Brs%2B%25281%2529.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XThCRvNRElo/Tf64Z0_j_ZI/AAAAAAAABRk/gmiRcHUnWEU/s1600/DSCN1814%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620132138866441618" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XThCRvNRElo/Tf64Z0_j_ZI/AAAAAAAABRk/gmiRcHUnWEU/s400/DSCN1814%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bcpeUpJaleg/Tf64Frnb7QI/AAAAAAAABRc/vUMQo5HHlzY/s1600/DSCN1843%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620131792751947010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bcpeUpJaleg/Tf64Frnb7QI/AAAAAAAABRc/vUMQo5HHlzY/s400/DSCN1843%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VW29GfzCOYs/Tf633xQejsI/AAAAAAAABRU/TdxQQVR6PQg/s1600/DSCN1837%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620131553748094658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VW29GfzCOYs/Tf633xQejsI/AAAAAAAABRU/TdxQQVR6PQg/s400/DSCN1837%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EoV3bOkuAUE/Tf63pozh05I/AAAAAAAABRM/eGVjV_E5fNI/s1600/DSCN1844%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620131310961021842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EoV3bOkuAUE/Tf63pozh05I/AAAAAAAABRM/eGVjV_E5fNI/s400/DSCN1844%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2wlwVhzOozU/Tf62v-IY77I/AAAAAAAABRE/aP3L983s4C8/s1600/IMG_0488%2Brs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620130320253251506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2wlwVhzOozU/Tf62v-IY77I/AAAAAAAABRE/aP3L983s4C8/s400/IMG_0488%2Brs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-icc6AuBVeuA/Tf62exvQoUI/AAAAAAAABQ8/sjRv3Luoc20/s1600/DSCN1860%2Brzs.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620130024868847938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-icc6AuBVeuA/Tf62exvQoUI/AAAAAAAABQ8/sjRv3Luoc20/s400/DSCN1860%2Brzs.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>It's true - the more I use Facebook, the less I blog. It's as though short, brainless utterances are replacing proper writing. On that note, let me tell you about Singapore. One of the best things about living in Australia is work life balance, and over Easter, we had a 5 day weekend, so we added a couple of days and off we went, on the shortest international flight we'd been on in over 5 years. This was our first international trip in just as long (that didn't involve seeing family or moving) and was well deserved. I was looking forward to going to a new place that had a diversity of cultures and a reputation for amazingly varied cuisine. We did eat well, see a lot of new and old architecture, and experience a variety of culture, but there was something I didn't love about Singapore. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the place almost had a Disney like feel. It was just too touristy for me, or perhaps we just had too much time there, but it felt like there were too many expensive little alcoves built simply to relieve visitors of their cash. That being said, I'd recommend Singapore for a stopover, or a 3 day stop on a visit to Asia, and perhaps, while I'm slogging through Thailand on one of our next trips, Singapore will look heavenly.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-87618603973266508812011-04-10T18:11:00.005+09:302011-10-11T11:26:24.968+10:30Coffee Anyone?One of the differences between working in the US and Australia is that, working as an Executive Assistant, I'm expected to do menial tasks for those above me, such as getting the coffee...and occasionally even being sent to pick up lunch. I can remember only once being asked to go get lunch for a boss in the US as he was running late for a meeting, and he apologised profusely for asking. Nowadays, I'm very often asked to come into a room, take drink orders, then go make the teas and coffees. I keep my mouth shut because I like my workplace, and I know the culture is different here, but I still find it a bit off. I don't think secretaries in the US have gotten coffee since the '80s, or perhaps it began in the '70s with Iris Rivera's <a href="http://womenshistory.about.com/od/feminism/a/coffee_protest.htm">protest.</a> If you're an admin, do you make the coffees, and where do you live?Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-68782163153375444412011-02-23T18:23:00.001+10:302011-03-23T19:18:51.797+10:30The Rest of my Life -or- Now What?!<p align="center">2002<br />Paris, France (March)<br />England & Ireland (Aug/Sept)</p><p align="center">2003<br />Ireland (March)<br />Montreal (August)<br />Ireland (Aug/Sept)<br />Northern Ireland (November)</p><p align="center">2004<br />Northern Ireland (June - Sept)</p><p align="center">2005<br />Scotland (March)<br />Wales & England (May)<br />Ireland (December)</p><p align="center">2006<br />Amsterdam (February)<br />Paris (April)<br />Prague (April)<br />Northern Ireland (July)</p><p>The above is off of the last page of a blank book I've used for recipes for over 10 years. I have listed trips, from 1998 to 2007, at which point I moved 'Down Under'. When I pulled it out the other day, I realised I hadn't added anything since then, and then I realised aside from travelling around Australia and going home to the US a couple of times, I haven't really been anywhere in about 3 years. When I say I haven't been anywhere, I mean I haven't been outside of the country, which for me is a big deal since, as you can see, I used to do a lot of trips overseas. In addition to that, I'd lived in 5 different countries since 2004, so being in the same country for the past 3 years has felt rather stiffling. I decided to do a bit of a google on settling down after travelling. While I don't remember exactly what words I used, I came up with blogs such as the <a href="http://www.groundedtraveler.com/">Grounded Traveler</a>, the Rest of my Life, and one where I found this quote: "After so many years in perpetual motion, it's difficult to accept settling down and staying put." Ain't that the truth, I thought! After years of thinking about where I wanted to end up, putting some plans into action, and seeing some outcomes, I'm grounded. I'm married, I own a house, and I live very far from anywhere I can get to within a reasonable amount of time and in a cost efficient manner. Add to that, there are only 3 countries Adelaide Airport has flights to directly, and there goes my habit of doing a quick trip abroad on the weekend. So, the question is, now what? How do I avoid being a boring married homeowner? How do I keep life exciting? And how do I continue to do often what I love best - travel, particularly while I'm still paying off my grad school fees and renovating a house? I haven't quite figured it out yet, so I'll have to check back in later. This, right here...this blogging, is one of those things I do that makes life a bit more interesting. I may do it less frequently, and my voice may have changed over the years I've been doing it, but it somehow helps me to touch base with that part of myself that is always forward looking, thinking about what may be still to come.</p>Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-86543917804062689372011-02-04T13:36:00.001+10:302011-02-05T17:33:32.172+10:30Turning Wine into WaterToday marks one year and one day at my current job (well, when I began this post a few weeks ago anyway). Last year, at my first staff meeting, I was called upon as a newbie and asked a few introductory questions. I'm not sure my new boss liked either of my answers. In addition to coming up with the Big Rocking Horse as my favourite South Australian tourist destination, I answered that I never make New Year's resolutions. It's true. I find it pointless to make a resolution simply because it's expected based upon the time of year, particularly since most of those resolutions deal with the same old tired things people typically aspire to but never achieve. I'm making an exception to my rule this year, however. Two things spurred me to action. One was seeing a magazine advertisement for <a href="http://febfast.org.au/"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">FebFast</span></a>, which is the idea to give up alcohol for the shortest month of the year. Similar to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Movember</span>, participants usually donate to register, and collect donations from supporters, but I'm too cheap for that, so I'll simply cheer myself on. I'm going to replace all that alcohol with water and see if it makes any difference to my newly acquired allergies and the frequent dehydration I feel living in South Australia. Would love if it made a difference to my waistline as well! The second thing that made me realise I needed to make some changes was finding out that a new friend was moving away. The truth is, Expats move more often than others, and since I hang out mostly with expats, some of the friends I make are not going to stick around. I'd grown a bit lazy and complacent, not getting around to planning a monthly Expats in Adelaide meet up, but realise it's a good idea, no matter how many friends you have, to keep meeting new people. So far, I've gone 4 days without any booze, and the 2<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> yearly expat meet up is this week. Perhaps I'll call these my Australia Day resolutions since I'm a month late!Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-67973710506288343262010-12-30T18:48:00.000+10:302010-12-30T11:14:27.794+10:30I Have ArrivedAn epiphany is described as having a sudden realisation. This happens when you can all of a sudden see the larger picture, or find the missing piece. I had an epiphany the other week. I realised that I finally have enough friends that more than one are sometimes free on the same night. It may sound like something small, but when you come to a new place and start out knowing no one, this is huge. I'm almost 3 years into life in Adelaide, and it did take well over 2 years to get to the point where I've felt as though I'm not so all alone. We often take our relationships for granted when we live in a place our entire lives, so to suddenly be without any (aside from our new spouse) can be extremely isolating. I've often compared making new friends as an expat to dating - we meet up with new people, in public places, for a drink or a meal, and see if we have anything in common other than the fact that we're looking for someone else to relate to. If we get along well enough the first time, we try again, perhaps adding in a movie or other such social event. Often times, after a few months of getting together, we realise we just aren't that into each other, and we move on. If we do find that we have some things in common, we spend a year or so getting to know each other better, until we're comfortable enough to just ring up one day out of the blue to meet up for lunch. It's work, which is probably why, after going through the dance a few times and securing some friends, we stop trying to make new ones. One thing we should learn from the expat friendship quest is that working on new relationships should be ever present and ongoing. In addition to the fact that expats move on much more frequently than those who live in the place they've grown up, and we'll lose everyday friends due to this, we become more aware (or should do) that meeting new people enriches our lives. I never ever make new year's resolutions, but I'm going to start this year by making it an active goal to keep meeting new people, at a time when I could become complacent simply because I do finally have some mates.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-6980171551543180172010-12-15T20:32:00.001+10:302011-06-23T18:28:39.429+09:30I Feel EmasculatedI just realised that I've begun this post twice, in draft form. I only got as far as the subject line, but an interaction with my neighbour just now reminded me that I wanted to write about the topic. In my 3 years of living in Australia, I have realised that, much moreso than in the US, it is difficult to get men to acknowledge, listen to and communicate with you if you are a woman. One example - our neighbour has been using our driveway to get access to his own backyard, in order to install an inground pool. As a result of doing so, we need to organise a new fence. Here in Australia, both neighbours on the side of the fence being put up have to agree to the type, size and colour of the fence, and split the cost. (This means you have 3 different sets of neighbours you have to work with to get the fence done around your house, by the way.) In the beginning, M_ next door would come over to chat to us about the fence, but only communicate with hubs. He barely looked at me, and he certainly didn't ask my opinion. Granted, hubs lived here a few years without me and M_ doesn't really know me, but it is obvious I'm the wife, which means the fence is my fence as well. It's taken over a week to get any acknowledgement. When hubs went next door to talk to M_ about the fence, he simply advised me he was going, but didn't suggest I come with. Had I not insisted in being involved in the discussions taking place, I'm not entirely sure my opinion would have been requested. This seems to happen a lot with Aussie men; you have to work harder to be heard. Never before living here have I realised that there is not a feminine equivilant to the word emasculation. There should be.<br /><br />P.S. In this instance, the title should perhaps have been, <a href="http://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/frost-mending.html">Good Fences Make Good Neighbors </a>(and that's with a <em>u</em>, as Robert Frost was American).Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-29538881420763177242010-10-19T19:33:00.005+10:302010-10-19T19:57:27.604+10:30DevastatedI had my braces taken off today, 6 months after they were put on, and approximately 1 1/2 years after <a href="http://suzerblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/two-grandmas-and-3-teeth.html">the fall</a> that caused me to eventually need orthodontics. While I was explaining to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hygienist</span> who I'd never met before (because that's who takes the braces off and fits the retainers here) about the fall, she asked how I felt when it happened. I paused, and then said...devastated. I never thought about how I felt when it happened specifically, and people have never asked; they only say "well that must have hurt." I thought all the time about 'if only' it hadn't happened, and was upset about it, but never put a particular word to it. But, it was devastating. Here I was, one year into life in Oz, not really having a good time of it - house <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">renos</span> sitting undone, husband working late, hating my job, and there I go and literally fall on my face, and my dentist 10,000 miles away. There were dental appointments, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">endodontist</span> appointments, splints, bonding, very sore teeth, a bite that was off, not able to eat certain things (only graduated to being able to eat a sandwich without being in pain a couple of months ago), and then braces, for the 2<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> time in my life. It has absolutely sucked. The end is in sight however, with just some major and minor cosmetic work to be done, fingers crossed. It felt good to say out loud today..."I was devastated." So I'm glad that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hygienist</span> asked me how I felt, even if she did then proceed to crack the bonding right off one of my teeth, but then that's another story.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21660497.post-55969839617178751122010-09-15T14:50:00.000+09:302010-09-15T20:00:50.895+09:30The Siren Song of 'Home Leave'The expat going home for a visit doesn't typically term it a holiday or vacation, but calls it home leave. We take time off to visit family and friends, and if we're lucky we also get to relax and refresh. In order to do both the former and the latter, we need an employer that will allow appropriate time off, because you can't quite do it in a week or two. I'm lucky enough, finally, to have a boss who didn't blink an eye when I asked for 5 weeks off. And at the end of the day, I'd leave a job that wouldn't allow me time to spend with my family. But that's getting off the original topic.<br /><br />Generally, expats feel a pull between two identities - that of the person he or she was in our homeland, and the person we have become in our new home. At no time is this feeling more present than in the midst of home leave. I left Australia, as a (finally) proud South Australian, and landed in Chicago wanting to raise my arms up and clap upon landing in my home town. Here in Oz, I am a wife, a homeowner, and sometimes, an outsider. In Chicago, I feel like a diva. I whip around on expressways (on the right side of the road), I stay out late and challenge the bouncers at my regular drinking establishments, I know the customs... I can shop late, request an apple martini with Absolute Mandarin without the bartender looking confused, and ultimately, just feel like I belong. To be honest, I was afraid to leave - knowing that confidence wouldn't quite follow me back to Adelaide. There are always tears in the airport, and the relinquishment of the Chicago Susan. And there is the feeling that the confidence, power, and ease that comes from being in one's own environment isn't really worth giving up. And then I get on the plane, and 30 hours later, upon landing in Adelaide, the siren song of home slowly dissipates. Within a few days, I realise that Australia really is becoming home for me. I like my house, my marriage is maturing in a wonderful way, and I love my job. The pieces are falling into place, far from where I come from, and while I may not be Chicago Susan, I'm happy with the person I am becoming.Suzerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07719521236404333324noreply@blogger.com4