02 February, 2006 (Thursday)
Everybody says that you haven't experienced a real Australia Day until you've had one away. Apparently being away from home just accentuates your very Australian-ness, or maybe it's just a way to vent a whole bundle of homesickness. Whatever the case, I think I now understand what they mean.
Australia Day away
As luck would have it I was scheduled to work on Australia Day. Thankfully, working at the Village Centre, I had a perfect view of the cross-section of Australia inhabiting Big White and the various interpretations of national dress. My understated effort for the morning was a paired set of Australian flag transfers – one on my right cheek, the other on my left forearm. Yeah, Australiana man.
From the start of the day Rentals had genuine Aussie music blaring from their stereo. Half the staff seemed to be decked out in Wallabies jerseys, while the rest were sporting board shorts and singlets. Fair enough. As the morning progressed more and more punters flowed through the Village Centre in similarly patriotic garb. There were gals with little Australian flags in their hair, guys with green and gold face paint, a large selection of stubbies and board shorts. The Happy Valley company store was handing out “Hug Me I’m An Australian” badges, while Australian transfers were everywhere.
Standout Aussie efforts
Mid-morning Josh popped in to borrow my Australian flag. He wanted it as an accessory to complement his snowboarding garb of a pair of board shorts, singlet and Toohey’s New top hat. The flag went on as a cape and he sailed off into the morning to complete a few runs on the slopes. Not bad for -3 degrees. He must have been freezing out there. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to brave the cold in the name of national spirit.
To top that effort Kath from rentals did a bikini run from the top of the Ridge chair lift,
immortalized on video cam. She ran barefoot all the way down the hill, in just a few slinky straps. Now to put this into perspective - Kath isn’t a big girl, in fact she’s lucky to be more than 5 ft 2, slim and fair of skin. By the end she must have been freezing, but reports are that she stopped by the chair for a few photographs. I guess the 8am beer breakfast must have helped a little. That or she was just numb by midway. (Picture: End of Night @Sam's - Bec & Kath)
After my shift I succumbed to a quick mid-afternoon siesta to recoup and ensure I had the energy to survive the night ahead. After a hearty dinner I headed down to Happy Valley to see how festivities were progressing.
Earlier in the day Dave had mentioned his intentions to spend the afternoon drinking beer and watching cricket on the big screen.
The party had been in full swing all day with a wide section of genuine Aussie food and booze, but by the time I arrived around 8pm most people were long gone, and those that weren’t were still long gone – if you get what I mean. So, after saying a brief ‘hello’ to the twins (Mike and John) and waving to tickets Sarah I headed to where the real party was supposed to be for the evening - (you guessed it) Sam’s. (Picture: Sam's - Dave, Sarah & JC)
In Sam’s
By 8:30pm the place was filling up fast. Gabs and Neil were sitting right on the door, Neil working his way through an expensively imported can of VB (only $6 a can). I joined them at their table and scanned the throng.
Most of the crowd had went to some trouble to dress up; there were green Australian t-shirts (specially made in Kelowna)
with the Southern Cross and people’s names on the back, flags being worn as capes, faux tattoos of the Australian Flag and Southern Cross up arms and across faces, boardies and thongs (flip-flops to you North Americans out there), wife beaters by the half dozen (complete with pale white biceps and freshly combed arm hair). A few rebels from other parts of the globe added their national colours to the gathering, some kiwis in black and white and a pair of Poms proudly wearing white (our neighbours from 306). The vibe was positively cheerful. Everybody was in a good mood. (Picture: Sam's - Totally Tickets: Tim, Gabbi, Carla, Lesley, Me!)
Mixing in with the usual crew there were lots of photos to be had. The pub became even more packed, and by 9:30pm there were long lines to get in. People were soon dancing on all surfaces – the stage, tables (but not Coyote Ugly style on the bar unfortunately). Beer was drunk out of jugs and the area around the bar became 5 people thick. It got very crowded around the door.
By the end of the night I was dancing like an epileptic on the dance floor with the tickets crowd – Lesley was in fine form,
while Gabbi & Neal and Aenne & Per were cutely couply. More photos, more flash. My Australian Flag cape was lent to some mature aged lady with thick rimmed glasses. I posed for more photos. I danced on. Before I knew it the lights were on and people were slowly meandering out the front door. It was 1am. (Picture: Sam's table dancing - Liz, Kath and Ella)
Still feeling in a celebratory mood I thought I’d try my luck at Raakel’s. Predictably it was closing for the night too, but I still managed to weasel in and out on some pretence. Back up at Sam’s I stood out in the falling snow chatting to Commissionaire Jess as the last dregs were ejected from Sam’s. When I finally found my way home at 2am both Dave and Merv were still up, although I couldn’t find it in me to cook pancakes.
Final reflections
I guess my first Australia Day away has left me feeling more Australian. But do I have a clearer understanding of the national identity? I'm not so sure. The stereotype of the white Australia, dashed with green and gold, speckled with the Southern Cross, is certainly part of it, and was strongly represented here in the Big White. Yet, I still believe that there's something more.
See, I was brought up in a multi-cultural Sydney where we had the thong clad and ockerish West, the polished chardonnay set of the North and the surf culture of the South (still stereotypes, but there's some truth in it). In between all of this was the gothic and rainbow sets of the Inner West and the eclectic city mix of urban bohemian and corporate suits. We had ethnic enclaves from little China Town to new Lebanon. It was all part of the cultural tapestry.
So to me being Australian was always more than just being able to identify with standing around a barbeque in the middle of summer, char-frying hunks of meat, while talking crap with a cold beer in hand. But how do you match that mis-mash of cultural influences with a national identity that seems to continue to revolve around being sports mad, drinking loads of beer and yelling "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi!". Is there a need to reconcile it, or should I just go with the flow? "She'll be right, mate". Right?
Happy Australia Day!
Australia Day away
As luck would have it I was scheduled to work on Australia Day. Thankfully, working at the Village Centre, I had a perfect view of the cross-section of Australia inhabiting Big White and the various interpretations of national dress. My understated effort for the morning was a paired set of Australian flag transfers – one on my right cheek, the other on my left forearm. Yeah, Australiana man.
An aside on Timing:
Technically, being 19 hours behind Sydney, Australia Day had occurred and gone by the time I was up and shaving on Thursday morning. I had been at the pub the night before, and there had been a festive mood, but that was almost as much because of the hockey as trying to keep in synch with the true Australia day. Australia Day, wherever you are, happens on January 26th.
From the start of the day Rentals had genuine Aussie music blaring from their stereo. Half the staff seemed to be decked out in Wallabies jerseys, while the rest were sporting board shorts and singlets. Fair enough. As the morning progressed more and more punters flowed through the Village Centre in similarly patriotic garb. There were gals with little Australian flags in their hair, guys with green and gold face paint, a large selection of stubbies and board shorts. The Happy Valley company store was handing out “Hug Me I’m An Australian” badges, while Australian transfers were everywhere.
Standout Aussie efforts
Mid-morning Josh popped in to borrow my Australian flag. He wanted it as an accessory to complement his snowboarding garb of a pair of board shorts, singlet and Toohey’s New top hat. The flag went on as a cape and he sailed off into the morning to complete a few runs on the slopes. Not bad for -3 degrees. He must have been freezing out there. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to brave the cold in the name of national spirit.
To top that effort Kath from rentals did a bikini run from the top of the Ridge chair lift,
immortalized on video cam. She ran barefoot all the way down the hill, in just a few slinky straps. Now to put this into perspective - Kath isn’t a big girl, in fact she’s lucky to be more than 5 ft 2, slim and fair of skin. By the end she must have been freezing, but reports are that she stopped by the chair for a few photographs. I guess the 8am beer breakfast must have helped a little. That or she was just numb by midway. (Picture: End of Night @Sam's - Bec & Kath)After my shift I succumbed to a quick mid-afternoon siesta to recoup and ensure I had the energy to survive the night ahead. After a hearty dinner I headed down to Happy Valley to see how festivities were progressing.
Earlier in the day Dave had mentioned his intentions to spend the afternoon drinking beer and watching cricket on the big screen.
The party had been in full swing all day with a wide section of genuine Aussie food and booze, but by the time I arrived around 8pm most people were long gone, and those that weren’t were still long gone – if you get what I mean. So, after saying a brief ‘hello’ to the twins (Mike and John) and waving to tickets Sarah I headed to where the real party was supposed to be for the evening - (you guessed it) Sam’s. (Picture: Sam's - Dave, Sarah & JC)In Sam’s
By 8:30pm the place was filling up fast. Gabs and Neil were sitting right on the door, Neil working his way through an expensively imported can of VB (only $6 a can). I joined them at their table and scanned the throng.
Most of the crowd had went to some trouble to dress up; there were green Australian t-shirts (specially made in Kelowna)
with the Southern Cross and people’s names on the back, flags being worn as capes, faux tattoos of the Australian Flag and Southern Cross up arms and across faces, boardies and thongs (flip-flops to you North Americans out there), wife beaters by the half dozen (complete with pale white biceps and freshly combed arm hair). A few rebels from other parts of the globe added their national colours to the gathering, some kiwis in black and white and a pair of Poms proudly wearing white (our neighbours from 306). The vibe was positively cheerful. Everybody was in a good mood. (Picture: Sam's - Totally Tickets: Tim, Gabbi, Carla, Lesley, Me!)Mixing in with the usual crew there were lots of photos to be had. The pub became even more packed, and by 9:30pm there were long lines to get in. People were soon dancing on all surfaces – the stage, tables (but not Coyote Ugly style on the bar unfortunately). Beer was drunk out of jugs and the area around the bar became 5 people thick. It got very crowded around the door.
An aside on Police and Sam’s:
The cops (the RCMP – Royal Canadian Mounted Police) are regular visitors to Sam’s on big nights and weekends. Usually half a dozen will turn up and do a leisurely lap around the bar looking for potential under-agers and over-capacity crowding. My experience has been that the RCMP who visit are always grizzled middle-aged career cops, solid and darkly uniformed, who grimly cut through the crowd without a smile, regardless of the theme.
Tim, one of our security guards (the one who likes to carry the little extend a baton and threaten delinquents with forcible acquaintance. Or, as I believe he likes to put it, “I’ll shove this so far up your ass that you’ll taste steel in your throat. You can do this the easy way or the hard way...”.) told me later after about the one incident of the night. The story goes that some guy was bright enough to try and pick a fight with the visiting police. As you’d guess, completely intoxicated, he ended up locked up in the back of the paddy wagon destined for a night in the county lock-up. His pissed off and equally intoxicated girlfriend jumped in her car and backed out - straight onto the paddy wagon with four police officers looking on. She ended up joining her boyfriend in the back of the paddy wagon. A match made in heaven?
By the end of the night I was dancing like an epileptic on the dance floor with the tickets crowd – Lesley was in fine form,
while Gabbi & Neal and Aenne & Per were cutely couply. More photos, more flash. My Australian Flag cape was lent to some mature aged lady with thick rimmed glasses. I posed for more photos. I danced on. Before I knew it the lights were on and people were slowly meandering out the front door. It was 1am. (Picture: Sam's table dancing - Liz, Kath and Ella)Still feeling in a celebratory mood I thought I’d try my luck at Raakel’s. Predictably it was closing for the night too, but I still managed to weasel in and out on some pretence. Back up at Sam’s I stood out in the falling snow chatting to Commissionaire Jess as the last dregs were ejected from Sam’s. When I finally found my way home at 2am both Dave and Merv were still up, although I couldn’t find it in me to cook pancakes.
Final reflections
I guess my first Australia Day away has left me feeling more Australian. But do I have a clearer understanding of the national identity? I'm not so sure. The stereotype of the white Australia, dashed with green and gold, speckled with the Southern Cross, is certainly part of it, and was strongly represented here in the Big White. Yet, I still believe that there's something more.
See, I was brought up in a multi-cultural Sydney where we had the thong clad and ockerish West, the polished chardonnay set of the North and the surf culture of the South (still stereotypes, but there's some truth in it). In between all of this was the gothic and rainbow sets of the Inner West and the eclectic city mix of urban bohemian and corporate suits. We had ethnic enclaves from little China Town to new Lebanon. It was all part of the cultural tapestry.
So to me being Australian was always more than just being able to identify with standing around a barbeque in the middle of summer, char-frying hunks of meat, while talking crap with a cold beer in hand. But how do you match that mis-mash of cultural influences with a national identity that seems to continue to revolve around being sports mad, drinking loads of beer and yelling "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi!". Is there a need to reconcile it, or should I just go with the flow? "She'll be right, mate". Right?
Happy Australia Day!
posted by the wastrel @ 10:52 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home