Friday, Sept. 14, I went down to the lounge car to read. Nice lady sits down by me. Out of all the lounge cars in all the trains in all the world, she picked mine. Says her name is Maureen, from Sydney. I say, Hello, Maureen. That’s a nice name. We talk.
Turns out she spent 13 years in the US, teaching in the South Bronx (after a teaching career in Australia – went to NY on a lark). At age 70 she came back to Sydney in 1999 because she’d always planned to retire there. Besides, the only way to retire in New York is to have money, which she didn’t.
In NY she says she taught English and History to adults who had to have these courses in able to stay on Social Security. This requirement is news to me, but I didn’t question her about it. She might have meant citizenship requirements.
Aussie authors she likes? The poets, like Banjo Patterson. They understood what it meant to be Australian. They told the stories.
Australia is losing its character. What’s that? I ask. “Mateship,” is her answer. We’ve lost our mateship. This means the unquestioning willingness displayed by bush-people to help anyone who needs help, whenever, whatever the circumstances, rich or poor, black or white. Knowing you could rely on your mates was the difference between survival or not.
In Australia, did she teach Australian history? Oh, No. Nobody teaches Aussie history and it’s a shame. They teach English history. They seemed embarrassed to teach about the convicts who were forcibly settled in Australia. Those convicts did marvelous things. An example: Sydney Hospital was built by convicts. They were paid in rum, so it’s called the Rum Hospital. (By the by, Adelaide is an exception – not settled by convicts.)
We got off on the topic of remembering people’s names. She had a tough time remembering people she’s met on the train. I’m no better. We decided it’s rude to be introduced to someone and then not be able to call them by name a little later. We rehearsed the names of people she had met and that I could identify.
Time zones were a problem. Sydney is on Eastern time. Adelaide is on Central time, which is one-half hour earlier. Western Australia is on Western time, another hour and a half earlier! The train, however, keeps its own clock – doesn’t change time at a border crossing, but makes a change in conjunction with a particular stop. So, today’s dinner time and our subsequent time for stopping in Kalgoorlie were confusing. Either we were having an unusually early dinner or a late stop at Kalgoorlie. I never did come up with a good explanation.
At dinner a little later I sat with Maureen, Don (from Calgary), and Justin – a young man who got on in Adelaide. He is a lawyer in Perth, was returning from a holiday trip to the US and UK, had bought a car in Adelaide, and was shipping it to Perth via the IndianPacific. So, that’s why he was on the train. He hadn’t enjoyed his first 24 hrs. – for one thing he was a smoker and you can’t smoke on the train. Two stops a day are not enough. But, he entertained us greatly with his story.
His home is the UK where he got a law degree and went to work in a bank. One day, he said, This is boring, and he quit. Found a job as a policeman in Queensland, Australia – NE corner of the country. Subsequently applied and got a lawyer job in the district prosecutor’s office, then did the same when he saw similar job advertised in Perth. It’s a formal court system here – he wears a wig in court.
Maureen told Justin he was too angelic to be a lawyer. He said that helps him with witnesses and juries.
Somehow the topic of boring jobs led him to tell of a friend who did a PhD thesis on grain transportation in ancient Egypt. Justin asked him what he learned. Answer: They used donkeys. That’s it! Two years of work and it comes down to this.
Also learned from Don at dinner that his son plays underwater hockey. Never heard of it – have you? Invented in Canada, no doubt. They actually have international tournaments and he’s on a team in Perth.
Here’s an end-of-the-trip of Maureen and Dick.
Cheers,
Rob
Turns out she spent 13 years in the US, teaching in the South Bronx (after a teaching career in Australia – went to NY on a lark). At age 70 she came back to Sydney in 1999 because she’d always planned to retire there. Besides, the only way to retire in New York is to have money, which she didn’t.
In NY she says she taught English and History to adults who had to have these courses in able to stay on Social Security. This requirement is news to me, but I didn’t question her about it. She might have meant citizenship requirements.
Aussie authors she likes? The poets, like Banjo Patterson. They understood what it meant to be Australian. They told the stories.
Australia is losing its character. What’s that? I ask. “Mateship,” is her answer. We’ve lost our mateship. This means the unquestioning willingness displayed by bush-people to help anyone who needs help, whenever, whatever the circumstances, rich or poor, black or white. Knowing you could rely on your mates was the difference between survival or not.
In Australia, did she teach Australian history? Oh, No. Nobody teaches Aussie history and it’s a shame. They teach English history. They seemed embarrassed to teach about the convicts who were forcibly settled in Australia. Those convicts did marvelous things. An example: Sydney Hospital was built by convicts. They were paid in rum, so it’s called the Rum Hospital. (By the by, Adelaide is an exception – not settled by convicts.)
We got off on the topic of remembering people’s names. She had a tough time remembering people she’s met on the train. I’m no better. We decided it’s rude to be introduced to someone and then not be able to call them by name a little later. We rehearsed the names of people she had met and that I could identify.
Time zones were a problem. Sydney is on Eastern time. Adelaide is on Central time, which is one-half hour earlier. Western Australia is on Western time, another hour and a half earlier! The train, however, keeps its own clock – doesn’t change time at a border crossing, but makes a change in conjunction with a particular stop. So, today’s dinner time and our subsequent time for stopping in Kalgoorlie were confusing. Either we were having an unusually early dinner or a late stop at Kalgoorlie. I never did come up with a good explanation.
At dinner a little later I sat with Maureen, Don (from Calgary), and Justin – a young man who got on in Adelaide. He is a lawyer in Perth, was returning from a holiday trip to the US and UK, had bought a car in Adelaide, and was shipping it to Perth via the IndianPacific. So, that’s why he was on the train. He hadn’t enjoyed his first 24 hrs. – for one thing he was a smoker and you can’t smoke on the train. Two stops a day are not enough. But, he entertained us greatly with his story.
His home is the UK where he got a law degree and went to work in a bank. One day, he said, This is boring, and he quit. Found a job as a policeman in Queensland, Australia – NE corner of the country. Subsequently applied and got a lawyer job in the district prosecutor’s office, then did the same when he saw similar job advertised in Perth. It’s a formal court system here – he wears a wig in court.
Maureen told Justin he was too angelic to be a lawyer. He said that helps him with witnesses and juries.
Somehow the topic of boring jobs led him to tell of a friend who did a PhD thesis on grain transportation in ancient Egypt. Justin asked him what he learned. Answer: They used donkeys. That’s it! Two years of work and it comes down to this.
Also learned from Don at dinner that his son plays underwater hockey. Never heard of it – have you? Invented in Canada, no doubt. They actually have international tournaments and he’s on a team in Perth.
Here’s an end-of-the-trip of Maureen and Dick.
Cheers,
Rob
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