Classic!

In South Africa, we used to moan about the call centre people and their ability to communicate in English. Well over here in Aus it is little different. I had to share this absolute classic blog of another expat, check it out: http://snotblock.blogspot.com/2010/02/tanjooberrymutts.html

It's not often that I'm wrong... but I'm wrong again.

So I am back from my trip into the rural areas of New South Wales. The scenery was great most of the way. Lots of rain has fallen so everything was green. Not much to report to be honest except 2 things: Fruit and Griffith.

I had heard that in some places of Aus, when you travel interstate, you are not allowed to transfer fruit between States and have to dump it in specially marked bins because of the cross contamination danger of fruit flies. Ok, understood. But within the same state? Well, in preparing for my cross-country trip, I knew on the Wednesday that it would be Ash Wednesday which for us Catholics is a day of fasting and abstinence, so I had planned instead of a normal lunch, I would have an apple and nectarine in the fridge in my car chilled nicely. Well about 350km in the middle of nowhere, I suddenly start seeing these huge road signs with fruit flies: DO NOT BRING FRUIT INTO THIS AREA. FINE: $200. DISPOSE OF IN THE BINS PROVIDED. Well I thought, I'll take my chances, I mean my fruit isn't sweating in a car: it is in a sealed fridge in the boot - no fly would live in that temperature. But the signs became more frequent and I started to get more concerned and feel more and more guilty. Breaking the law - on Ash Wednesday nogal! So to still my conscience, I got angry and started practicing what I would tell any cop who dared pull me over. A one man heated argument happening in my car: ' Besides, Officer, which bin should I put them in? - the signs are there, but there are no bins!' (It was true, there were no bins) About 15km into this tirade, the signs became angrier and then I saw it: a bright yellow bin clearly marked and above it the sign read: FINE: MAXIMUM $11 000. I pulled over and tossed the perfectly chilled nectarine and apple into the blasted bin.

Griffith. Now as the title says, It's not often that I am wrong, but boy was I glad I was wrong again. About 600km West of Sydney in the middle of ... well, nowhere, lies a town called Griffith - for those in South Africa, think Beaufort West or perhaps Fargo for those in the US. Now online I saw a couple of pictures - how bad could it be: The Grand Motel. (Better than The Royal Motel? who knows?) But you know the image it conjours up? Synthetic carpets, a dodgy character at reception, some stains on the carpets and sheets - Roach Motel. And Griffith is remote - it is supposed by all reports to be Hickville. And on the way, there are some real backwater towns with signs:- 'Come and see the largest playable guitar in the world! The largest stone sheep....etc.etc. But boy was I wrong! Immaculate Chinese porcelain tiles, double volume room airconned, natural stone counters, Wrap around frameless glass showers, free Broadband - I was gobsmacked - it really was better than a 4 star hotel in Sydney! The third photo is of the room but doesn't do it justice - I suck at photography. The top 2 - excuse the camera-phone quality was of our meal - the pudding was my colleague's - I was a good boy and just had the fish and chips - in the motel restaurant - the ambiance and furnishings and the presentation and quality of the food could have been in an exclusive waterfront restaurant in Sydney, it was so good. I only also realised afterwards that I had ordered fish - 600k's inland, but it was good. No website but the next time you are in Griffith: http://www.wotif.com/hotels/the-grand-motel.html

Pictures don't do it justice.

Roadtrips and Rednecks

I am psyching myself up mentally for a road trip this coming week. I will be doing a couple of thousand kilometres in 3 days - down to ACT, Wagga Wagga and Griffith to install some machines. The 'psyching up' is not for the long drive - the drives around here are normally quite picturesque - though Griffith is certain to be dry, but because this is the heart of Australia in some senses - and I am not sure what to expect - or perhaps I have an inkling...

In the week, I had to travel South to do a presentation on one of our more complex units and took a technical expert with me for support - he is an Aussie. We arrived at the place which was a large mine and after the initial presentation were ushered into the maintenance offices where a group of their technical personnel peppered us with questions. About halfway through this session, a rather large guy wandered in and collapsed into a chair, eyes puffy, hair kind of greased / combed to the side, tattoos in evidence and at least one or two missing teeth. He looked familiar, but only in an iconic kind of way: the redneck sitting in a faded deck chair on a porch with a rifle on one side, a mongrel called 'Killer' at his feet and the remnants of some rusted vehicle a few feet away peeking out of the jungle that is his front yard. (You see this often over here in Aus by the way - in the city nogal!) Anyway, this character beetles in and the skinny (also heavily tattooed) man who had gone to call him plopped himself down in a chair nearby, grinning for no apparent reason. I heard later from their colleague that 'the missus' had kicked the big guy out of his house after some domestic altercation (I didn't ask) and he had taken up residence in an old caravan behind the workshop. At lunch time he would go 'home' for a nap and that's what he was doing when we arrived, so skinny, his sidekick had shot off to go and bang on the outside of the caravan to call him when we city slickers had arrived.

And then he really got stuck into us with the most obtuse questions he could muster - which to his credit, my technical expert was able to respond to very well. In the middle of all of this, when we initially tripped over an answer, I heard a maniacal cackle from behind me that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I turned and saw that there was what looked like a twin of this big guy sitting in a corner nearby who we hadn't noticed as our eyes had taken a while to adjust to the gloom after the bright light outside. He had a sneer on his oily face and laughed as his brighter buddy tried to trip us up. When my partner finally concluded with the correct answer, he slumped back, obviously disappointed and amused himself for the rest of the session by glaring at us and chasing his two brain cells around his not insubstantially sized head in stony silence. What gave the whole redneck thing away was when we were talking about ongoing support for the equipment we were discussing. These guys had owned some of our equipment before and most agreed that our after sales service was really good, but our interrogator ventured that 5 years ago a technician had come around who wasn't an Aussie. He began: 'I'm not trying to be racist, but... I couldn't understand a word that that guy was saying!'
I looked at him non-plussed. Racist? I had met all the guys and we happen to have no Black or Asian technicians in NSW so I sort of blurted out without thinking: 'It can't be one of our technicians. We actually only have white guys working for us?' I could see he was uncomfortable that this was now been expanded on - I think he was hoping to make his point and let it rest.
'No,' he answered, 'as I say I'm not trying to be racist, but the guy had a funny accent.'
'But he's white!' I launched undeterred. (come on I'm from South Africa, if you are racist, it must be a colour thing). And then I clicked: 'O you mean, you're not xenophobic! Sorry, mate - I think we had a language gap there!'
He tilted his head at me - not sure if i had just sworn at him...
My fellow technical expert jumped in to rescue me and try and limit the damage: 'O you mean Viktor! (he is Romanian), yes don't worry', him and I both laughed, 'nobody understands what he is talking about half the time at our company but he is a highly qualified engineer... did you guys not get good service from him? Did he mess something up badly?'
'No, as I was saying', he said testily, 'I am not being racist, I was just saying he wasn't an Aussie and I could hardly understand his foreign accent. The new guy (who is an Aussie) is much better.'
Mercifully, one of his embarrassed colleagues threw another question at us and we moved swiftly along.

Afterwards, I asked my colleague about it cos I had never met anybody who disliked Romanians. He said not to worry about it, and that every country has them and then asked how come my Aussie accent had gotten so broad all of a sudden for the rest of the meeting?

I will try and blog next week about my trip to the deep Outback and let you know what exactly is out there...

Medibank 2010 Women's Final

One of the advantages of living here, is that you get to see international tennis which has been so rare in SA over the past 20 years. A warm up tournament for the Australian Open that takes place in Melbourne, is the Medibank International played here in the Olympic Park where we live so for Christmas Carmen bought me tickets to the men and women's final. Unfortunately Justin Henin pulled out before the tournament due to a light leg injury, but it was an experience nevertheless. I was able to walk onto one of the outside practice courts from where i took some shots. the main stadium is the Ken Rosewall arena which seats 10500 people. With regards to the actual match Elena Dementieva crushed a really off-form Serena Williams and returned 178km/h serves. While I was disappointed with Serena's form as we never got to see a really good match, I was glad Elena cleaned up the arrogant world number 1 who at the post match interview on court feigned confusion as to what to say as she 'is so seldom in this position' - losing she meant. Maybe she should try and remember the only reason she is number 1 in the world is because Henin retired (she was number 1 at the time). After that final I stayed for the women's doubles final which featured Cara Black (a Zimbabwean player, so I cheered for her and Liezel Huber, her partner - they won! I will upload all pics to my Facebook.

13/01/2010

(Kirstin Amy Mackrill 13-01-1990 to 5-07-2008 - pencil drawing by Kendal Kluge)

A few days ago, I heard something that reminded me of Dana Niehaus. He was a presenter on the morning show on what was then called Springbok Radio, many years ago. I googled his name but couldn't find any real info on him. Springbok Radio fell silent on 31 December 1985. There is a society that preserves the station archives and it is apparent that many people still look back on that popular station nostalgically. Even as a teenager, I remember listening to the station on my mom's old black radio that used to stand on the kitchen counter in Sprigg Road. My dad had given it to her on our first real family holiday in Oudtshoorn. When the station went off the air, Kirstin wasn't even born. And now she is gone. In the blink of an eye. She would have turned 20 today and been in the second year of her degree in Journalism at Stellenbosch University.

That we can only live life forwards is the obvious mercenary reality that is life. I do try not to look back too often and reminisce about the good old days because I am always conscious that as Benjamin Franklin prophetically put it: The golden age never was the present age. But. As much as our past is part of us in the sense it has shaped who we have become, so I would also submit to you that it contains many of the seeds for who we not only will be but even want to be. And all those we have lost are part of that. I had life before Kirstin and I still live. My memories of her are still vivid and stark. My love for her calls me to remember her and create future memories worthy of nostalgia. But she doesn't live in my memory. She lived as fiercely differently from me as any other person can and she lives now in the light of eternal life. My memories of her are part of the residue of her earthly life - no more accurate or important than the old photographs of her in an album or hard drive. I wish she will never be forgotten but she will. When I tried to tell her about Springbok radio, she could appreciate my affection, (ok, she rolled her eyes!) but could never share it. When I talk about her, people may sense by the way that I talk about her, how much I loved her, but again they cannot share that experience of her, anymore than I can share knowledge of their loved ones - even though I can see and sense their love. And so at the end of the day all that remains to be seen of our lives is love. And that, I like to think, is almost like a prism where we, after we are gone, are merely reflecting back to those we leave behind the light of Love of the One in whose presence we then live.

‘Soon we shall die and all memory of those (we have loved) will have left the earth. We ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough….. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.’ (T Wilder:'The Bridge of San Louis Rey')

Avalon and Balgowla?

Ok, so my timing is a bit out - I published today's trip before yesterday's one. Anyway. Yesterday, we took a trip up to Avalon Beach and an adjoining beach as well - i think it is Balgowla or something - one of the Aussies who reads this can correct me. Anyway the first photo is across from Avalon beach and the second I just wanted to show you just 2 of the very many bays that surround Sydney- there are literally hundreds of them. You should see them at night - each bay its own little crescent of dancing lights - and as I say, hundreds of them!

Schoenstatt

Today we took a drive out to a place called Mulgoa and a shrine at a place called Schoenstatt, which means Beautiful Place. It is a retreat centre and place of pilgrimage set on about 50 acres of lush farmland and is really idyllic. Schoenstatt is a Marian movement originally founded in Germany that is dedicated to the nurturing of family life. They have shrines like this all over the world - in Cape Town where I am from, they have 3 if memory serves - one of which is in Constantia and in which I was baptised. It is quite freaky to see it over here in Aus, as inside and out, these little chapels of prayer are identical wherever they are in the world.

An outing to the city Part 4 & Happy New Year!!!

The last part of our day in the city was to catch the monorail to Darling Harbour to grab some lunch before heading home. The monorail runs a small circular route through a portion of the CBD from the Exhibition centre and Maritime museum, but is not a must do thing. At Darling harbour though I don't have a pic here is a restaurant which we would like to try one day called The Meat and Wine Company with apparently very good steaks - owned naturally by an ex Saffer!

The last pic is of part of the Sydney CBD skyline: when I have spent a week or two without seeing it as my sales territory is South of the city, it is so good to see the familiar skyline again and know I am in Sydney! It is not home - yet, but it is growing a place in our hearts and one day will be -once the rest of the clan is here. That concludes our little touristy interlude - I have decided as part of my new Year's resolution to carry my camera with me as I travel - there are some very pretty little towns here and take shots - even though my photography skills are not great to show those of you who are in the process of also making this journey what this place looks like. My blogs will not be that regular as I am studying as well, and have a couple of other projects on the go, but may you and your loved ones be much blessed in 2010 and for those still in SA - stay safe - the journey to Aus is long and even here at times very painful - the personal loss of those you leave behind cannot be overstated, but you do get here eventually! Life is lived forwards not backwards and there is no going back - for us anyway. Once you have tasted freedom, it is a jealous lover, I guess.

Take care - see you next year.

An outing to the city Part 3

After St Mary's and the aquatic centre, we made our way to the historical Queen Victoria Building shopping centre. This is an old shopping centre with wooden staircases and lots of expensive places. I never took a photo but they have a writing shop in there with quills and everything! Ahhh.... a writer's dream. In the middle of this centre that goes up 3 floors is a massive Christmas tree decorated with Swarovski Crystal, I kid you not! Next, the monorail and Darling harbour.

An outing to the city Part 2

When you stand inside or outside St Mary's you could be anywhere in Europe - flying buttresses, beautiful stained glass, huge pipe organs, etc. It is awe-inspiring and Kerry has said that she wants to have her child baptised there when it eventually makes an appearance.
Anyway, so what would you expect next to a Cathedral? A bookshop? Ok. A coffee shop? Yes - actually there is a really yuppie one just to the right of the picture underground. But an underground aquatic and sports centre? Just weird!

In the first picture is the sign which is visible in the mid ground in the photo on the piazza in front of the church. In the third photo, Richard took a closer photo of the side of these granite ponds - look at the windows along the side. The last shot is what you see if you peer through the glass. Underneath this plain granite area / piazza going down about 8 metres below the street is a whole aquatic and sports centre with basketball courts, gym, Olympic sized racing pool, and other pools with families playing etc. Cool hey? Next stop: the historical Queen Victoria Building shopping centre.