One Year, And Counting

Flashback: I started having a bit of a panic attack as we flew across the International Date Line. Lachlan was getting some shut-eye and I looked at him and wondered what I was doing on a 16-hour flight to a country I knew very little about. The finality of my decision had set in, and there was no turning back. I was scared and anxious, crammed in economy class with insomnia.

As we approached Melbourne Airport, my anxiety turned into anticipation. I was about to see things I had never seen before, even in pictures. So into “vacation” mode I went, with eyes widened and jaw dropped about an inch (2.54 cm). At baggage claim, Popsie Wopsie Chris and perky partner Yolanda warmly welcomed us to the Land Down Under. They told me to sit in the front seat, so I went to the right side and was confused to see a steering wheel. Once the laughter subsided, we were given a whirlwind tour of Melbourne.

Although we were both dead tired, I’ll never forget that first glimpse of the city I was now going to call home for a while. The sun was as bright as if it were reflected off of the water. We drove around the Docklands, the Central Business District, the eccentric St. Kilda area, and along the gorgeous bay. I liked what I saw through the glare. We stopped for lunch on Southbank, the funky posh area along the Yarra River. And then we had a stroll through the Arts District to see the fabulous art museum and the Melbourne Concert Hall.

Occasionally my mind would wander to Jackie, hoping that she wasn’t getting too stressed-out in the horrible doggie holding cell that is quarantine. I prayed she wouldn’t hate me forever for putting her through this agony. I wanted to see her when we landed, but they don’t allow visitors for the first 24 hours. I can only imagine what the poor thing was going through…(sniff sniff sniff...“I don’t smell any squirrels. Where the bloody hell am I?”)

I don’t remember much once we got to the “18th Century House” in Crib Point. Exhaustion took over and eclipsed the fact that our bedroom was not equipped with a heater, nor did the washer have a dryer to go with it. These minor inconveniences were to be discovered another day (which was probably the next day when I woke up at 5:00 in the morning to close the drafty window, only to discover that the window wasn’t open).

Fast-Forward: I’m definitely feeling more comfortable in Australia. At first I spent a lot of time worrying about how I was going to come across. Of course, I wanted everyone to love me instantly. I’m a Baker! To know me is to love me! Right, Matt? In the States, I could make a lifelong friend in the matter of a couple hours and a few beers. But folks here aren’t that easily impressed. It might take several trips to the pub and a few cases of beer, but once they know you well enough and trust you with their blue heeler you’re mates. Now I’m proud to say I have 41 different Aussie’s phone numbers stored in my mobile (yes, they are people I actually know).

Australia has been good to me this past year. Today I’m a more culturally aware and environmentally friendly person than I was a year ago. I don’t live in fear of terrorists, hatred of illegal immigrants, or regret from not following my dreams. And it’s nice to live in one of the more humble countries that aren’t fighting for world domination. I could really get used to this.