Field Report 11:
Melbourne, Australia - March 20, 1999

By Jeff Bell
 

Hello from New Zealand!

Small problem, evidently the email I sent last week about Melbourne got lost in the ether, so I'm going to backtrack and reconstruct a note about Melbourne. It took a few days to deduce that the email didn't get though. Pilot error or technology glitch, who knows, I failed to save a copy before I sent it, which is pilot error. Maybe it's all for the best, I felt a little anxious about that post anyhow, perhaps a bit too edgy and a bit dark too. It seems the telephone and the regular mail is still a more reliable way of communicating.

The Australia saga has come to a close. When I'd answer perhaps the most asked question of all, "how long are you here?", Aussies would say "not enough mate, think about it, do you think I could see the U.S. in 3 weeks?" And they have a point. My New Zealand guidebook recommends taking 6 weeks (!) for New Zealand, thereby speaking to what must be an infintesimally small subset of Americans.

Having travelled from the Outback to Melbourne and now to New Zealand, things seem to be getting progressively more British. Someone at Ayers Rock made the analogy that the U.S. and Australia are like teenagers, while you might peg New Zealanders as mid-30s and Europeans as mid-40s. And places were shirts, most of Australia would be about t-shirts. Except Melbourne, felt like I was stepping on the gas when I got there.

Melbourne, a name which we Americans find impossible to pronounce gracefully, (Don't waste the time trying. It seems to bring out our patented heavy "er" sound which makes us famous. And don't do what one poor taunted American kid taunted I ran into would do, insisted on pronouncing it like the locals, which sounded downright...dumb), has the look of a English city. Even the suburbs seem to retain the look that was imported from the other side of the globe.

There at the South of Australia, a latitude equivalent to perhaps Portland, the weather is on the cool side for Australia, and urban preoccupations such as stylish architecture, fashion, food, and the arts are on prominent display, enough to fool you into forgetting you are in the Land Down Under. And if you get live too much in that delusion, the easy going nature of the people can seem almost strangely out of place. But then when someone describes how winter South winds coming directly off Anarctica, well, you know you are in a city very far away from others of it's type.

In retrospect, having arrived in a beautiful place in New Zealand, Queenstown, which is unlike any place I've been, I wish I'd cut down my time in Melbourne, only because it was not in many ways greatly different from San Francisco. But at the time, you feel attracted to the city because of the warm feeling of familiarity you feel.

A few things were uniquely different for me. The Botanical Gardens in Melbourne, for instance, were on a such a grand scale that this was something that was truly different. And I'm not sure why this is not part of the large American cities I am familiar with. Fantastically enormous trees, flowers and bushes of every imaginable type, all set in beautiful, uncrowded lawn settings. (At one point I was walking in what I thought was a grove of trees filled with chirping birds. I looked up. "Holy S#$t Batman!" The trees were filled with giant bats with brown furry chests. Very vampire looking, they were called "Flying Fox bats" an old fellow told me.)

The architecture in Melbourne was rather consistantly interesting, a far cry from the largely utilitian structures you see throughout the majority of Australia. Lots of old Victorian styles mixed with modern, and beautiful sharp spired churches scattered about. Lots and lots of interesting cafes, bars, nightclubs, stores. Once I saw a traditional Irish band which was so authentic that I realized that this is something that doesn't exist in California. The violin player and the guy who played Irish bagpipes and concertia were absolutely spectacular and played perfectly in sync.

On one night I went to see a concert, Verdi's Requiem, and was truly touched by a few moments in the concert. This was in spite of having to ignore that I was probably the only one there in shorts, but in truth it was a symbolic moment for me because being able to connect with classical music is something new for me. The problem I used to have, I believe, was that I sensed that most classical music goers are not particularly connecting with the music, and I mistakenly then made the association that there wasn't much emotion in the music. I assumed that the music itself was written as one long ode to just one old world sensibility, an elevated sense of nobility. When was the last time you saw people talk about a classical performance the way people talk after a movie or a play? The only way that works for me is to keep in mind that the composer was actually pouring out a wide range of emotion into the music and then listen in that context.

When I came out of the concert I walked right into a big street fair where all sorts of Polynesian music was being performed. It was like going to a good, but sad movie which has some really upbeat, cool music playing over the credits as you walk out. For a moment you really feel like you are flying!

But being alone in the city ground me down a bit, and it took me awhile to realize it. Kinda like the old Cosby bit, wandering around that city was kinda like being hungry and walking through a giant park where there are barbeques going on everywhere. The first day you're fine, the second you're feeling affected, the third you're depressed, and on the fourth you're slammin lattes by day and getting intimately familiar with the local beers by night, with a goal of getting a bit oblivious of your surroundings.

Other things, bits of news from home and an impending birthday perhaps, conspired to make this a stretch difficult. Where you feel that life is tossing unpleasantries on you. The upside was that I knew that I could handle it. I'm adapted, I've trained for these moments. All this has happened AND in midst of a miserable work week, so I really couldn't complain. And sure enough, once I got out into nature in New Zealand, the clouds that seemed to be gathering disappeared.

Mason Thomas

I knew that Melbourne was dragging me down in a way, but it wasn't as if I didn't find ways to have fun. After touring the city the first day, I called up a guy who I met on my trans-Pacific flight and arranged to go see a cricket match. I knew that this would be a good call, this fellow was reading a book on the plane about a famous cricket umpire.

Mason Thomas was a fine example of a finely honed sarcastic Gen-X wit, with questionable values, and a sufficiently suitable veneer of respectability to keep the employers and parents happy (he worked in his family's printing business). And Mason was an absolute sports nut.

The travel books would talk about the phenomena of Melbourne sportsmania, but I didn't believe it until I saw it. Not only was Mason completely overboard about cricket, rugby, and footie (an Aussie born game, more popular and violent than any other sport in Melbourne, including rugby), but this guy demonstrated to me that he knew and followed the NFL (AFC & NFC), the NBA, college basketball (men's & women's!), tennis, and golf. The only thing he hated was American baseball, and even that he knew something about. I think the only thing that tortured him in life was the fact that most U.S. sporting events came on T.V. at about 2am, which was really hard to stay for. (But I'm sure he did.)

Mason was wired with high voltage, caustically funny as a general rule, and mostly ran off at the mouth at a speed that left all but a few behind. Fortunately, I believe I got the proper doseage of him, his constant jabbering about details and outrageous yelling at the cricket match were also, well, the result of his finely tuned lifestyle.

Anyone who has ever descended into the collegiate-inspired, 20-something, partying lifestyle, knows that to do so is to venture on a mission to touch the limits of temporary happiness. As often as possible. And of course to reach this goal, any and all thoughts composed of higher purpose must of course be suspended and summarily dismissed if they ever do surface.

Mason and his roommates rented a house that looked like it had one purpose for its existence: to throw a party. Hard wood floors, very little furniture. In the entry to the living room, just off the main entry hall, Mason and co. had nailed four automatic liquor dispensers stuffed with upside liquer bottles "for easy dispensing". He and his roommate had gone in together and bought BOTH the Nintendo and Sony playstations, complete with small handgun accessory unit with realistic sound effects. He educated me in the art of honing rapidfire skills of use of small arms, which struck in Mason some sort of ironic chord which he evidently found funny time after time again. He offered to take to me to dinner at an Italian restaurant that he and his roommates had ordered "literally thousands for dollars in takeout" from, but in fact had never been to. We went there, and in fact got a complimentary gourmet pizza.

Mason, having lived in Melbourne all his life, was a sharp witted fellow, but also a rather sheltered guy. He asked whether I had climbed Ayers Rock, but regarded Aboriginal issues as something that had nothing to do with him and furthermore felt that the issues where being force fed on him. Part of Mason's makeup, what kept him running at full speed, was that Mason felt that he knew enough to know that what he knew was all he needed to know. Of course that was an illusion, but it certainly made him feel strong and comfortable with things just the way they were.

More 'Bout Melbourne

Melbourne is a bit confused about itself. Did I mention that it was hopelessly Anglophiled? They have a grand statue of Edward VII (pre-WW I) on horseback in the park. I have no idea what accomplishments Edward VII made, but my take was that this was a celebration of a way of life, not of personal triumph. The problem with such close attachment to England as I saw it, is that all local accomplishments were by definition less than those by the crown and Mother Country. They are stuck short changing themselves!

(There used to be a bank in Beverly Hills which had a statue of John Wayne, movie stars being our equivalent of a royal.)

The signs of deep association with England in Melbourne were overwhelming. The state of Victoria, how British a name can you get? The local government, parliament (yes, parliament), was in fact a detailed reproduction of the English parliament down to the wigs, the layout of the chambers, the ornate dress of the President and Sargeant at Arms, the second House of Lords (although they don't call it such, or have any royalty titles). The Grand Reception hall at the Parliament building is dominated by...a statue of Queen Victoria. And this is not the national government, this is the government for the state of Victoria!

A Bit More on the Bush

Gotta take one step back from Melbourne to that place that really rocks, the Red Center. I forgot to mention the one thing that no book mentions about the Red Center, the flies! Yes, the flies, my friend, are nastier than nasty. Yes, they only come out in the daytime, and they hate air conditioning. But when you are out walking around, they NEVER leave you. Well maybe for a minute or two here or there, but all sorts of people choose to buy and put flynets over their head, rather than suffer waving constantly. I even woke up one night waving at flies that weren't there. It was sort of the outback equivalent of developing sealegs by day and going ashore by night.

In the winter the flies evidently go away. It got up to 42 C at Ayers Rock both days I was there, which is about 108 F I think, although Alice Springs seemed a little cooler. One guy told me that China wiped out their problem fly population by offering a fly bounty of a cent or two per fly that was caught. He claimed it worked and that Australia ought to consider it.

And one other thing: bush tucker, the food eaten out in the bush. Real bush tucker includes things like the witchitty grub (love that word), a thick supposedly juicy worm, but kangaroos are in fact overpopulating Australia currently and there is a move which is probably going to succeed to start selling and eating kangaroo meat. It's supposedly a lot better for the land because the hoofed creatures cause soil erosion which Australian land can't afford.

Aussie-isms

• Skinny milk: non-fat milk
• Beer brands:
• Tooheys in New South Wales (not to be found in nearby Victoria)
• Victoria Bitter (VB) in Victoria
• XXX Gold in Queensland
• Carlton most everywhere
• Foster's, kinda hard to find, no one seems to be drinking it
• Pokies: slot machines, comes from the typical shortening of poker machine
• Mozzies: mosquitoes
• Goldies: the gold one and smaller gold two dollar coin. Only heard this once, but it would be a proper Aussie-ism
• Anzac memorials: In every town. A lot of Aussies were butchered fighting in far away lands to settle scores made by people far away. My one gripe is that "the Great War", a terminology we don't use, has a wrong sound to my American ears. It was a Great Big war, but no great principals at stake. My take is that the Cold War, by contrast, was about the fight between big and contrary principals. By the way, both Aussies and New Zealanders fought in Vietnam, although New Zealanders pulled out after a time.
• Entree: The FIRST item in a meal, a starter. Leads to a lot of confusion, both for us and presumably them when they travel to our country. "Would you like that as an entree?"
• Gondswana: Spelled that wrong on my last post. Big country, long time ago.
• Jim Beam & Cola: Comes in can down here.
• Food Watch: In Italy, it is said that you can't get a bad meal. You can find very good food in Australia. On the other hand, you can happen upon some bland stuff (probably true of U.S. to be fair). I've forgotten the item, but one item I ate had no taste at all, the only thing that registered was temperature. A peach crepes I got once had canned peaches complete with the juice poured on top. And of course if you have not tried Vegamite by now, the chances that, as an adult, you will like it are zero.
• No tips and tax is included: Pretty nice I have to admit, I'd choose that over our system in a second if that were a chose to be made.
• Witchitty grub: A worm which the Aborigines eat which comes out of the witchitty tree. I just loved the sound of the name, just like Mullumbimby, a town name.
• "Grabbed that one by the scruff of the neck": a sportscaster spit this one out describing an aggressive, not pretty, but successful move in basketball. I loved it, great sounding too.

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