ANZAC Day

Anzac Day was April 25th. It is Australia's equivalent to Memorial Day. Except that ANZAC Day is a major deal, and I mean major as in it competes with Christmas as the most significant national holiday. Major. I suppose The Vietnam War ruined Memorial Day for the U.S. So it was interesting for me to experience a nation commemorating a military action with such complete and absolute reverence.

ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and April 25th marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by the ANZACs during WWI. They were instructed to land on the Gallipoli peninsula to open the Dardanelles Straights for the Allied Navy. According to most, it was a terrible plan and doomed to fail from the start. An estimated 9,000 ANZACS died.

I saw so much pomp and circumstance walking around Brisbane on ANZAC day I could almost imagine the war had just ended. I half expected to be able to find Monterey Jack cheese now that rationing was over. Seriously, tear down the black-out curtains and pin on a red poppy! It's incredible how Australia has kept this spirit of remembrance alive so many years after the war's end. For an entire week I could not turn a corner without finding myself in the middle of a parade or candle lighting ceremony.  Every school had an ANZAC day assembly and there were countless ceremonies in public parks, churches, and anywhere more than one person might happen to be. Followed, depending on the time of day, by tea or a sausage sizzle. It is a country of social extraverts after all.

During Rosie's school's ANZAC day ceremony both Australia's and New Zealand's national anthems were sung. After one minute of silence "The Rouse" was played (signifying waking up to a new day) then the speaker said "Lest we forget", and in unison everyone repeated "Lest we forget". Well, everyone but me, and I am assuming Rosie, (we weren't sitting together). But now we know. 

There were several odes and a poem but I can't tell you what they were as Nola was extremely anxious to be elsewhere. As only four year olds and dogs in a vet's waiting room can be. So I was a little distracted. The school's Chorale sang with the Australian Army Band, the flag was raised and lowered several times, and then I was finally able to put Nola out of her misery.

On ANZAC day itself there were dawn (the time of the landing at Gallipoli) ceremonies in each and every neighborhood of Brisbane. Seriously, how amazing is that? I woke up early and walked over to Keating Park (without my four year old) for Indooroopilly's Memorial Service. As I came down the hill I wondered what I would find. I arrived a good 5 minutes before it started and was surprised at the number of people there. I found a place to edge in beside a tree, a three generation family and this handsome bagpipe player.

I listened to everyone sing Australia's national anthem, "Advance Australia Fair", several hymns including "Lest We Forget" and "Royal Hymn", I watched as school kids and the elderly placed wreaths on the Memorial Stone and stood stock still as my hunky neighbor played his bagpipes. There was an address by a young Cadet Under Officer and a prayer and benediction from Father Michael Chiplin. When the ceremony concluded people flowed to the Memorial Stone to take pictures and talk with their neighbors. I eavesdropped as best I could. Both little girls in this picture are being told by their dads about the sacrifices the Defense Forces and their families made.  

I was struck by how many parents were there with their young kids talking about what ANZAC day means to them. The ANZACS who fought at Gallipoli really are not forgotten. And clearly this under populated island nation never will forget them. How they faced the Gallipoli challenge is said to have awakened Australia's national identity, "a discovery of ourselves" as father Chiplin explained. I see it first hand and let me tell you, I like what they discovered. And their reverence is moving.

While I'm on the subject of remembrance, I'm turning up my stereo to listen to the Bee Gees, again, because I can't get enough. They actually lived here in Brisbane in the 50s and 60s, in a poor neighborhood where the airport now stands. You will have, no doubt, heard that Robin Gibb passed away last week. Much to my listening enjoyment, the Brisbane radio stations are remembering him, lest we forget.

Hello Again

I fell off my blog bike but I am determined to get back on and pedal faster than ever. Life in Australia is starting to just feel like life - we are all busier than ever and pretty much, dare I say it, completely settled in. This week alone Rosie was invited to three birthday parties. She will attend a roller skating party, a dance party and a gymnastics party. Last month it was a horse riding party. She has stopped having nightmares about crocodiles and no longer needs to ask me questions about God because she knows everything about him, even, so I've been told, how he smells. Term two saw her with yet another new teacher as Ms. Crompton moved to Melbourne. But my old Rosie is back, skipping into school expecting to like any teacher they throw at her and assuming she will be liked in return. When I had my parent/teacher meeting with the newbie she said Rosie was a very serious child. Yes, I replied, it's true, but wait till you met her father.

Mike is just back from a week in Bangkok. He was there meeting with suppliers and getting massages. Really, I do know it was a trying week of meetings and negotiations, but when someone is able to book all 20 of your party into massage rooms at your 5 star hotel at 10 p.m. after a full dinner where someone polished off an entire bottle of vodka, I have to wonder if I made the right decision to leave the work world. But I suppose that's my work fantasy, not Mike's. After 9 hours on the plane catching up on emails he arrived home exhausted. I was as sympathetic as I could be, but stopped short of manipulating his bath towel into the shape of an elephant carrying a fresh orchid in it's trunk, assuming he was sick of that sort of thing.

The week before that Mike was on the Gold Coast (about an hour south of Brisbane) celebrating Genie's 15th year in Australia with some of the company's nearest and dearest. It was a party to end all parties and I am sorry I missed it. They arrived in 15 chauffeured stretch hummers (Australia is really big after all) and walked down the proverbial red carpet which was flanked by cheer leaders. How nice it would be to enter a room and be reminded of how great you are by eight young and gorgeous women shouting accolades at you. Well done Genie Marketing.



15 years ago was 1997, a great year wasn't it? Clinton was in office and Axel Rose was just going off the deep end. Besides cheerleaders, hummers and well placed character actors, 1997 was remembered with several rounds of semi pro boxing complete with famous Australian cricket personality and sport hero Max Walker MCing. Here is Mike in the ring with Max - thankfully, not boxing.

Actor or Kiwi?

Kiwis getting into the spirit.

Paid Actors

Not pictured were Madonna, Zoolander, Sister Theresa (who won the Noble Peace Prize in 97), Stephie Graf and Robin. Some of the these costumed personalities were not paid actors though....some of them were customers! I never thought a group of people could top the Aussie's zest for life, but apparently the Kiwis really get down. I hope we move there next!

Kiwi






I thought about bringing the girls down the coast after school on Friday to join Mike and have a fun weekend at the beach but then remembered we had Wiggles tickets. I am being completely honest with you when I reveal I had never heard of the wiggles before last month. Rosie came home from school all abuzz that the wiggles were playing so I bought tickets. Ten minutes into the show I leaned over to Mike and said, these guys have got to be Australian, yeah? He just looked at me like I was crazy and on the way home explained to me the billion dollar corporate empire that is The Wiggles. Yes, they are Australian and it makes so much sense that they are. Little Red Car! Toot! Toot!

Booyoolie, Goblebackinglup, Bangingoo - no, not Wiggle song lyrics. Australia is full of fabulous Aboriginal  place names that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. I recently found a book translating Aboriginal words. I opened it up, flipped through the pages I until I found Indooroopilly, hardly able to contain my excitement to find out what it might mean……tropical paradise? mango station? sunshine satellite? rainbow factory? Imagine my disappointment, no, my dismay, to discover our neighborhood, Indooroopilly, actually means Gully of Leeches. Hmm. At least I haven't seen any, which is comforting since I ended up here instead of WabbaPickinCoke, where Don Johnson parked his turquoise porch in a driveway lined with white rocks and birds of paradise.

I am very happy we landed in the Gully of Leeches though, as the neighbors here are fantastic. Because of all the fencing and gating and remote control action it took us a while to actually meet them - but meet them we have and thank goodness. It was the Saturday we saw the Wiggles. A gloriously hot late afternoon walk home from the train station found us whistling wiggles songs, toot toot! As we turned the corner onto Neulans Rd we saw some kids on scooters and bikes, a couple of dogs, and our next door neighbor picking a leech off his youngest. We stopped to introduce ourselves. Wine bottles and cheese platters appeared almost simultaneously from two houses across the street. That was 4:00. At midnight we stumbled off our neighbors porch, carrying 2 over excited little girls home to fall asleep exactly 30 seconds later.

Since that eventful night Nola has peed on one neighbor's carpet and walked another's blind black lab around the block - bonding is complete I'd say. Between our four houses there are 12 kids between the ages of 3 and 17 and 8 adults who like wine and cheese, nice people all - for this I can forgive a few leeches.

Now it is Mother's Day. Rosie gave me a cross. It's my first one and quite tastefully decorated with pink beads and silver sequins. I think Jesus would be touched. The girls also made me breakfast in bed and for some reason insisted on washing my hair. Now Mike has taken them to the science center, leaving me in a too quiet house to get back to blogging. But not before rinsing a bottle of shampoo from my hair, mopping up the bathroom floor and hosing down the kitchen. 

Happy Mother's Day Moms! May any cross you bear be sequined!