Eight Things I Learned from the Australians

For months now, Gentle Readers, I've been meaning to give you the scoop --

What I learned from hanging out with 21 Australian quilters. 

We toured together for much of April 2018, visiting Nashville (and a backstage tour of the Grand Ole Opry), Paducah (for the American Quilters Society show and museum); Branson (where we rode the ill-fated Ducks, site of that recent accident), Hamilton, MO (for the Missouri Star Quilt Co.); Jamesport, MO (for a visit to the Amish/Mennonite community there--a place I'd visited often with my mother-in-law); and Kansas City, for their flight home.

     And a bunch of quilt shops and pitstops in between. 

Delma, analyzing Amish transportation options

What this gave me was a 24/7 period to observe what 'my' Aussies were like. In many ways, they were very much like Americans -- particularly American quilters. Both have an undiluted enthusiasm for fabric, patterns and SALES that are difficult to slow down. (I finally saw less interest the last day at the very last fabric shop. Yes, it took that long for ennui to happen.)
     They have a great deal of knowledge, and interest in learning more -- particularly about us oddball Americans, who talk too fast, know little about our country, and, in their opinion, do some strange stuff.

Here's what I noticed about our Aussie friends:

*They are remarkably friendly. Within minutes of visiting any store, the shopkeeper was chatting away with these openhearted, smiling ladies. They made it easy by telling anyone within earshot who they were, and why they were there. Contrast this to Americans' habits of quietly sneaking in, grabbing what's needed, and sneaking out... or holding your tongue at programs and presentations, scared you were going to make a fool out of yourself.
        The Aussies honestly didn't care. And they came across as who they are: warm, friendly and interested. I was amazed at the many strangers who stopped to talk to them -- in the shops, on tours, in the restaurants, wherever. ("I love your accent" was a frequent comment.) At show intermissions, celebrities were more than happy to chat a while and have their photos taken with 'my' ladies -- who loved it, too.
       Amazing.

Part of the group, at trip's beginning. They look fresh and perky, don't they?
(They had 'matching' polo shirts -- in different colors.)

*They don't mind standing in lines. ("Queues," they call it.) This drives me absolutely nuts, after a few minutes -- particularly if I see someone cutting in line ahead of me. The Aussies were much more patient. From what I observed, particularly in lines at the cash register, this is time to:
       Talk to the next person (and check out her purchases - should you get some more?)
       Ask lots of questions (to the tour guide or shopkeeper)
       Double-check one's items, 
       Analyze not only what just happened -- but start planning what's next (in the case of events)

Dogwood blooming in Paducah, KY

*Their approach to food is different. One example: biscuits and gravy. Our hotels, without exception, offered this in the mornings. And Americans took advantage of it. But Aussies steered clear every time, like it was the plague. Since "biscuits" to the Australians are actually cookies, they were suspicious, to begin with. (They referred to our biscuits as 'scones,' but really, they're not.) And pour GRAVY over them? Ewww...

     Another abomination was tea. The Paducah eating spots around the show offered it iced and sweetened. (Northern-bred me was careful to skirt that horror: you only drink it straight!) If you wanted a hot drink, there was coffee. Maybe hot chocolate, as well, if you were lucky.
     My buddies wanted tea, all right -- but hot and strong, with plenty of sugar and milk. (Iced? Ridiculous.) And they wanted it midmorning with a baked something, as a 'coffee break.' (Though they did form an attachment to funnel cakes and other American goodies.)
     The hotels we stopped at generally had displays of coffee, teabags/hot water and often fresh-baked cookies. Every night, I watched the ladies make a rush for these. (I did, too -- I had a lot of work to do on The Book, which kept me up.)
     So you drink coffee at night... and tea during the day? Or just tea, all the time? I saw both variations.

*Ditto for restaurants. For one, they don't have access to the fast food chains we know so well, with the exception of Subway... and a few others. (For the record, nearly all of 'my' ladies came from Adelaide; one was from Sydney. I'm not sure if location plays into this.)  They viewed our entrees as huge, including buffets, in general. How in the world could you eat so much? (I see their point, particularly when doggie bags are a difficult option.) Sit-down restaurants weren't meant for gobbling down and rushing off; they were meant to be savored, particularly at meal's end. (I especially enjoyed this, talking while lingering over that last bite of dessert and cup of... you-know.)

     "How can you be so specific?" Listening to Americans use phrases like 'no mustard - and hold the pickles' seemed odd to them. You take what you're given, and adapt it yourself. (Or, as The Mama would say, 'Shut up and eat.') Since going out to eat often meant sandwiches to them, perhaps accompanied by "crisps" (potato chips) or "chips" (fries), this was important.

     'On the side' was a foreign concept -- and presumptuous, at that.

     Tips -- how much do you give? Apparently in Australia, you don't tip the waiter. I'm guessing you don't tip anybody, quite frankly. From what I was told, waitstaff make a heck of a lot more money, to begin with.
     Does this mean Americans have their hands out more often, for good service? I would guess yes. On the negative side, the Aussies, out of their zeal to be fair, often overtipped, as a result.

*They're Brits -- and yet they're not. Their accents often struck me as British Empire. (Although I'm certain they would argue with this.) Many of the words used (like "loo" for bathroom, for instance) were familiar, in this respect. I would occasionally have trouble understanding if they spoke quickly or used too many terms foreign to me. (I noticed they had the same problem if I went off on a tangent... except for quilting phrases. The one exception was "batting," which is "wadding" to them.)
     They have a relationship with the Queen and her royal family that seems reverent, compared to our rapscallion approach. Although the Queen doesn't visit often (her last visit was in 2011), her family members occasionally do -- including a planned upcoming trip by Prince Harry and his wife. 
     Probe deeper, however, and you find something fascinating. They enjoy having royalty visit, and don't mind listening to what they say. But at least to the girls I spent time with, they don't take them that seriously. ('After all,' one girl told me, 'we don't have to pay for them.')
     The people were mostly British once. (Scots, the Welsh and the Irish would argue with me about that!) Many stepped onto the shores of 'the colonies' from convict ships sent by the British. It became a badge of honor -- listen at 1:30, then again at 7;30, to reinforce this:

They're not Brits now, though. (This makes me wonder how much Canadians have changed from their origins, as well. A lot, I'm guessing.) They have their own way of doing things, including government. Which brings us to:

*They're used to a lot more political instability. When the head of government changes, so does the party in charge. And that can happen, based on a single vote. From one long afternoon of talking politics, I was told that the government had changed hands more than five times in the past seven-plus years. Totally normal!
     My friends, on the other hand, were mystified by President Trump. Why in the world did he get elected, in the first place? More questioning on this subject made it clear that they were only hearing viewpoints from people and sources who didn't like Trump. They certainly hadn't thought about the implications of millions of people voting for him...or the reasons why voters would do that. (Besides sheer stupidity or sheepheaded-ness attributed to those voters by some sources, that is.)
     This all made for fascinating talk on a long, hot afternoon, eating ice cream under a large umbrella. If someone tells you that you shouldn't discuss religion, sex or politics...do it, anyways!

*They're puzzled by our patriotism.  Branson was hip-deep in salutes to veterans, "I-love-America" music and red, white and blue bunting. (The Ducks ride even included a mini-tour of military equipment, war listings and accompanying music.) The Aussies listened to and viewed all of this politely, but showed little enthusiasm for it.
     "Why are you celebrating war?" one person asked me. I honestly hadn't thought about it this way. Patriotic displays can be propaganda, sure -- they've certainly been used to promote and camouflage conflicts that Americans themselves have been conflicted about. I had always considered recognizing our military as showing respect for soldiers and their sacrifices to keep America free. (And, since that includes free speech, arguing, as well, I suppose.)
     The Australians didn't see it that way, at all. 

     They did commemorate their version of our Memorial Day while they were in the States. It was mentioned a few times...but at no time did they discuss this in great detail, except to say that any celebrations were low-key, with minimal fuss.
     They didn't buy any Fourth of July fabrics, either.

*They assume (or used to) that regions and populations in the U.S. were 'all alike.' Our bus driver was a native Kentuckian, who knew the swooping hills and greenery well. I, a native Michigander turned Coloradoan, on the other hand, love the Southwest's wide-open views, golden plains and snowy mountains. Plenty of water was available wherever we went on the tour -- but I hadn't seen rain for weeks at home. It was easy for the Australians to generalize that other parts of the country were similar to the areas we were heading through. (A few, like the lady who frequently traveled to New York City, knew differently.)
     It was an education for our driver, too. "Must you stop at every quilt shop?" he often said. (Gary, you don't know quilters...)

Gary Faulkner, our driver, with his wife Pat

     They'd forgotten that the United States is a massive, sprawling place, with such a mix of landscape, history and culture that you'd swear you were visiting countries, rather than counties. Stirring the Amish/Mennonite influence into the pot, so unlike many parts of the U.S., further expanded what they had to process.
     I hope we were good ambassadors for our country. We certainly tried to be. 

The Aussie viewpoint to all this is bound to be different. (I've read at least one version, already. Feel free to chime in, Aussie friends and Gentle Readers!)

     I had my own conclusions about Australia when I offered to lead this tour -- those were expanded and changed in just a short time, thanks to my new acquaintances. (Special thanks to my appraiser colleagues on the trip, who really opened my eyes to how other countries do this process.) They showed the same warm friendliness to me that they expressed to others. We shared breakdowns and problems, belly laughs and long discussions: sometimes trivial, sometimes important. They are talented, wise, thoughtful-- and best of all, multi-layered. I have so much more to learn and experience about them and their fascinating continent.

I had a great time, Dears. Let's do it again sometime.

From Broken Asphalt, via Etsy (and Pinterest)