Doors, Lifts, Boots, and Other Nuances

I am living in a foreign country. I get it. Or I thought I did. Down to the smallest of details, things are different. We all do things without thinking about them; whether by instinct or familiarity many tasks are done without any brain power. That all changes when you leave the comforts of home.

Doors – easy enough, right? Nope! Where we pull they push, and vice versa. Not a big deal but a little frustrating as you continually pull instead of push or push instead of pull. Sometimes this is noticed by others. You can see it in their eye as they shake their heads (just a little). Crikey! Can’t even open a bloody door! The worst example is my shower door. After being here five weeks I discovered that the door works both ways – you can pull it or push it. As you can imagine I’ve been pulling it open (the American way) and managing to soak the floor mat. Today I figured out if you push it, you avoid the big puddle. Huh! Good to know. Problem solved providing I remember to push instead of pull.

Aussies speak English, I speak English yet there are many times I have to stop and figure out what they are trying to say. Boot = truck, shopping cart = trolley, lift = elevator, robe = closet, biscuit = cookie, brekkie = breakfast, chewie = gum, docket = receipt, ute = truck, unit = apartment, petro = gas. You get the picture.

Then there is security. To get into any office – large or small – usually requires a magnetic card. If you, as a visitor require entry you will have to use a buzzer to gain entry into the building, stop at a concierge desk, show identification, answer several questions about who you are, the person you are meeting, and when you will be departing. You are then given a neon visitor pass that you MUST wear around your neck. Every meeting I’ve had so far has been on the top floor and usually means a 15 minute ride. Even express elevators… err… I mean lifts… means stopping on at least 80% of the levels (floors). The worst is when you stop at level 21 and someone gets on and then gets off at level 22. Seriously? Take the stairs! It’s good for your heart and for mine (because I get impatient stopping at every level when people could walk up or down the stairs).

Last week was my most challenging week since my arrival. I needed to go to Brisbane (“briz-bun” or “Brissie”) to observe a couple of pilot programs. Sunday morning I’m up early to depart Melbourne at o’dark thirty so I can arrive mid-morning and take advantage of the sun and warmth of the tropical north. I digress a moment to discuss airport security. It is recommended that you allow 30 minutes to check in your baggage and get through security. When I first arrived and departed for my Sydney flight, I scoffed at the notion you would allow 30 minutes so I allowed 90. Way too much time! In fact, you only have to allow 30 if you are flying Monday morning or Friday afternoon. You walk up to a self check-in kiosk, enter your information, and print your boarding pass. If you check in online and can print your pass, you skip this part and proceed directly to bag check-in. You show your boarding pass put your bag on the belt and it is promptly tagged and whisked away.  Then you proceed to security. The longest line I have ever seen is 10 people. Usually there are one or two people. You walk up, put your laptop in a tray, put your bag on the belt, walk through the metal detector and pick up your belongings. They do not check your ID, they do not check for a boarding pass, and you do not have to remove anything that is not metal (shoes, coats, liquids, etc.). So you can basically get through the airport with no documentation yet you cannot even enter an office building without going through a laborious process. I’ve asked several Aussies about this discrepancy but they simply shrug their shoulders and say “that’s just the way it is.”

Two adventures to share from last week’s trip. Monday late afternoon. After a long day, I’m walking the 4 blocks back to my hotel (uphill) wondering why on earth I didn’t bring my walking shoes. As I’m climbing 10 sets of stairs up the hill in a part, I twist my foot just enough to cause me to fall upstairs (yes, I’m THAT talented). Instinctively I stuck out my right arm and let’s just say that wasn’t my finest moment. Graceful I am not.

Wednesday. Lunch time. Lunch for Aussies is sandwiches. Just sandwiches. Always have interesting sauces and other veggies that are not appealing to a picky eater like me. I was very tired after being on the phone with my boss until midnight. I decided I needed coffee desperately if I were to make it until 5… on second thought I’ll save that story for another day.