Ember Travels

Let’s face it, Australian English ≠ American English.  Many words have different meanings and others simply just don’t exist. Yes, we can understand each other but their slang is strange and my slang is strange and it quite honestly makes for some awkward moments. Like the time I was trekking up a mountain side and exclaimed, “I wish I had a fanny pack right now!” I got a gaggle of chuckles and embrassed looks from my Aus buddies. Fanny does not exactly mean  fanny  here, far from it. I’ll leave the meaning for you to figure out… In my spree of honesty I am going to admit that I still occasionally have trouble understanding Australian. I’m in the middle of a conversation and someone randomly throws  arvo  or  brekky  into the middle of a sentence and my racing mind comes to a halt…what? Oh and then there’s the whole pronunciation thing  pawn  sounds like  porn ,  filet  is  fil-...

All the Americans at our Independence Day extravaganza! Photo credit: Theresa Winters Celebrating the 4th of July Aussie style.  I didn't realize what American food was until we had a USA themed potluck. I always considered it to be diverse and a mix of everything from all cultures, but there are a few distinctive classics that are strictly American:  Mac 'n Cheese Nachos Hot dogs Burgers Krispy Kreme Cornbread Brownies For the foreigners, the potluck was American FAQ time. With a room full of yanks, when better to ask your burning questions about America? Common FAQs about the US: Is it true meatloaf is a combination of like 15 meats smashed up and cooked together? Why would you ever consider grilling a hotdog? I thought they were only meant to be boiled... Aren't rootbeer floats alcoholic? Tasting Wine with Italians.  That's right, I went on a little day trip to a vineyard in er, the middle of nowhere! It ended up being me, my newly found British friend, Adrian and...

I can't believe I went 19 years of my life without tasting a single drop of coffee. "Disgusting!" was my sentiment. Then, I suddenly went from  coffeephobe to coffee snob in what seemed like overnight. This is a chronicle of my dramatic turnaround and time spent in two of the most respected coffee cities in the world.  I LOVE coffee, and Seattle is my favorite city in the United States. See a connection? I know, it's obvious, but we are talking pre-coffee snob era Ember. My love for the Emerald City extends far deeper than the mere jumble of coffee joints on every street corner and caffeine-loaded locals. The gorgeous scenery, colonial houses, better-than-Photoshop green grass and quaint neighborhoods are what did me in. But I'm not here to gaze on Seattle's beauty, I want to talk about coffee! During my ten months as a Seattleite, I became hooked on white mochas...that is with half a shot of espresso. Call me weaksauce, but you could spot me every morning wor...

I can't tell you how many times I've gotten a head tilting, baffled, inquisitive looking response from telling someone I hail from the States (or the U.S.) It has become clear that a vast majority of non-Americans don't understand our English slang. Respond with America, and they know exactly what you're talking about. Respond with California and you get some witty comment about the Governator (they all seem pretty proud to spout that fact off).  I very rarely meet a fellow American who says they hail from America. Every time that happens, I get this weird image of a hillbilly, and feel like I should switch to my best redneck accent and thrown in something about 'Merica and our shotguns and hoedowns.  Why is it that no one knows where the U.S. is? And why is it that we are Americans but not from America persay? I've got a few theories. I'd like to give a quick shout out to Amerigo Vespucci for discovering the entirety of North and South America, a bundl...

The title pretty much sums it up. This is the story of how I went from corporate ladder climbing to world traveling to intimately knowing the inner workings of a dishwasher at a sketchy cafe run by a Lebanese family. And I assure you my days were packed with a daily dose of self-aimed criticism in Arabic, family quarrels and making terrible jokes with the dreadlocked, pierced and tattooed punk-emo chef who could really care less about his job (oh you know the type of person I'm talking about). At least we could relate on one level-our jobs were treacherous and everyone else at the joint was a bit, how do I put it nicely, "off." I can't help but think of the poor Mexicans, Cubans, Chinese, etc who are respected doctors, businessmen in their countries and magically turn into taxi drivers and checkout clerks once stepping foot into the land of the free.  There's something about wanting to make it so badly in a country that you are willing to sacrifice all self-respec...

1. Abbreviate, abbreviate, abbreviate. When in doubt just cut the last few syllables out from a word and you will sound unforgettably Aus. Here are a few of the key abreves you need to learn: university=uni mosquitoes=mossies vegetables=veg breakfast=brekky Even city and tram signs for Melbourne's Queen Victoria Market read  Queen Vic Market.  If the government approves, your new Australian friends surely will too! 2. Don't forget, walk on the left. Nuff said. Try walking on the right side of the sidewalk and the Aussies burst out into a funky chicken dance sort of move trying to figure out which side you are passing them on, and they barely avoid running into you at the last minute. It seriously freaks them out. But then again, maybe you should try walking on the left side of the sidewalk in the U.S. and see what happens!  3. You don't have friends, you have  mates . 4. Voice your enthusiasm for Vegemite.  Vege-what?! It's a sodium-loaded black paste used as a ...

Of all the ways to introduce someone, “this is my new internet friend, Joe,” is possibly the worst.   No one ever has anything good to say about Internet friends. I personally used to have a huge problem with online dating, thinking, “seriously, you couldn't just get off the computer for ten minutes, go for a walk and meet someone? For the sake of the social world, put those kindergarten interpersonal skills to use!” But then I realized friend finding isn't quite that simple and I've fallen culprit to the headline. It wasn't until I met some fabulous roommates on Craigslist a year ago that I became a believer in online friendships (I'm not quite ready to venture into the online dating world... yet ).  Still, with what seems like an entire world full of Craigslist Killers plastered in the newspapers and Internet mingling scardeycats, it isn't easy defending my online friends. (Come one people, you just gotta be smart about who you meet. Thanks to Google and Faceb...

Oh the joys of job hunting. I'm scouring the Internet, revising cover letters and glued to my email 24/7 for any slight glimmer of hope, response, inquiry...? in search of the perfect job. I am not a lazy person, but when it comes to job searching I get this really queasy feeling in my stomach and simply wish I could call in sick for the rest of my life. And, contrary to previous conceptions, trying to find a job in Australia as an American is proving to be quite a toil. The employment industry in the United States is quite a mysterious and unique creature, which the rest of the world rarely experiences, so I’m here to shed light on why foreigners should be stoked (or think twice) about hiring Americans. Well Known Facts about the Average American (which make us exceptional employees): ·         Never take vacation (because we are so committed to our jobs) ·         Addicted to smartphone (so we’re at the be...

It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean, I didn’t single handedly get my dear friend kicked onto the streets, it was more of a joint effort; a combination of misunderstanding, a fierce game of B.S. and my ridiculous laugh that led to the demise of G’s lease. Guillaume (aka G) and I go all the way back to my first week in Melbourne. We met during my online friend hunting spree (at the gym, of course), instantly hit it off, bonded at a bar over $5 pints and our North American-ness. He is a die hard Quebecan and an all things Canadian enthusiast (hockey and poutine top the list). He told me his name was Guillaume and I instantly nicknamed him G. Just like me, G had a hell of a time when he first arrived in Melbourne. As I scrubbed away behind a dishwasher at a Lebanese restaurant, G woke up at 4 AM each morning to sweep floors at the local supermarket. We both fell from corporate glory into the world to mindless minimum wage jobs, but lucky for me G was a few months ahead of me. By the time ...

I am utterly terrified of international travel. I know, this is a preposterous statement coming from someone who has been happily country hopping for the past five months, and still can't seem to get enough of it. With a slew of transcontinental flights behind me you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but no. I've established a freak out routine that is becoming tradition. It's not the foreign country part of even the plane itself-the airport is my second home and I would live in the air if I could. My paralyzing anxiety lies with the "oohhh shoot I have a one-way ticket outta here" realization and resides somewhere between the "I'm traveling alone to a foreign country" and "I have no idea when I will return home" sentiments. I have been tempted to hide from airport gates or burst out of my plane seat, running towards solid land convinced this bird will crash, but somehow the curiosity of what awaits me on the other end always pulls ...

What I planned to be a relaxing reintroduction into the travel life bopping around a couple of Australian cities turned into a jam-packed Australian adventure (much to my delight!). Here are a few highlights of my two weeks between Melbourne, Warrnambool and Sydney. Long drives through the Australian countryside. Imagine the eastern United States 50 years ago. The ranch style brick houses and crops stretching to the horizon bring me back to a period well before my existence but somehow eternally romanticized in my mind. I feel like I should be wearing overalls or country dresses and running through the eternal rows of corn and grabbing milkshakes at the soda fountain on Friday nights. Towns are simply sparse and people are few and far between. The funkily grungy side of Melbourne. It's full of artists, hipsters and culture. One of my favorite places was a gourmet style soup kitchen called Lentils Anything where you take your fill and pay what you feel like at the end. The experienc...

“Help! There’s a wallaby in the backyard” effectively sums up my introduction to Australian culture. I had been preparing myself for the descent into Aussie land by watching YouTube videos of the ridiculously cute local marsupials, thumbing through Outback picture books at the doctor’s office and browsing hilarious Melbourne help wanted ads on Craigslist. And now, here I was, a blockade obstructing the only opening between an angry wallaby and his freedom. My introduction to the culture seemed to be going well. Sam picked me up from my 17-hour flight with a packed travel agenda! We were headed to Warrnambool, a town along the South Coast where I would experience small-town Australia life and gain a proper education in the workings of a mysterious creature called the bogan. January 26th was Australia Day-comparable to our Independence Day, except Australia is technically still under the queen’s rule (there was a proposal to make it into an independent republic with an elected president ...