It didn’t take very long, and probably mostly because of my extraordinary ability to absorb media, to adjust to the Australian accent.  On a day to day basis, I can have several conversations, watch countless awfully produced televisions ads and read signs that say “speed hump” without thinking twice about it.

The only things that still throw me off are two particular Australianisms.  One is “How you going?” the Aussie’s way of saying “How are you?” “What’s up?” or “How is IT going?”.  And even though I can answer the question without hesitation, it still incites in me a desire to respond with what my American instincts would consider a misuse of grammar like, “I go fine”  or “It be well”.  And the other one the induces a bit of a shudder when I hear it is “Ta” yes, just “Ta.”  I think it’s a shortening of “That’s alright” which is the common response to “Thank you” out here, along with “No worries” which reminds me a bit of the Americanism “No problem” (an expression hammered out of my vocabulary long ago, by a boss who wouldn’t stand for the lackadaisical “Jamaican” nature of the response, and preferred the much more gracious “You’re welcome” (that’s still what I always say)).  But “Ta” like the Hawaiian “Aloha” also seems to mean thank you, hello, goodbye, and many other things I’m sure I haven’t figured out yet.  Personally I prefer “cheers”.

So since my daily interactions with Australians, are only peppered by the occasional language confusion, I forget that I am now the one with the accent.  It only takes one or two sentences before they ask “Are you on holiday?” or get more straight to the point with “Where are you from?”.  It’s easy to forget I’m a foreigner.  Sydney is like an odd collection of the neighborhoods I know from LA and NY, in look, pace, lifestyle and culture.  So unlike when I lived in Italy and felt as obviously American as I’m sure I looked (not that I wore a Mickey T-shirt or anything, but come on, the Europeans know Americans when they see them) I expect to blend in here like a eucalyptus tree.   And I pretty much do, until I start talking.  It’s then that I get a taste of what I’m sure every immigrant in the States gets at one point or another.  It’s pretty interesting being on the flip side of those accent induced conversations.

The other outsider viewpoint that being a foreigner has made me privy to, is an objective look at the practice of placeism.  Placeism, like all isms, is a bad thing, yet it is one that we accept into our everyday lives because it victimizes places, rather than people.  I myself have been guilty of placeism on many occasions.  It’s why I stopped telling people I was from Beverly Hills, often inducing drawn out conversations that go a little like this:

“Where are you from?”
“LA.”
“Where in LA?”
“West LA.”
“What part?”
“About 20 minutes from the coast” (45 by today’s traffic standards)
“Which area?”
“Between Hollywood and Santa Monica.”

That’s when people who know their maps would figure out I just covered a pretty large area of the city, and I would have to admit the truth, which was usually followed by:

“No, there is no West Beverly High.  I live in 90212 NOT 90210.  And no, I didn’t get a BWM on my 16th birthday.  But yes, I know people who did.”

I felt justified in my defensiveness, because judgements were often placed upon me because of where I was from.  And why shouldn’t they judge?  We all do.  But since I’m no longer in a place where I get why people from New Jersey say they are from New York (you’re really not), and us blue state residents feel compelled to make fun of the red states, I can tell you first hand that placeism is pretty pointless.

The Australians I’ve met have either vehemently defended where they were from, or preemptively made fun of it before anyone else could.  Each city seems to come with it’s only set of preconceptions.  Sydney is the urban active city, Melbourne following as a close second, while Brisbane and Adelaide are considered country, and Perth might as well not even been on the map.  Or at least, that is what I have gathered from these conversations, although I can’t really remember, because I don’t really care.  I came here completely free of any knowledge or preconceptions about any part of the country, and very willing to experience every part of it, good and bad.  So when people begin to launch into conversations about which places are dodgy or where the bogans live, I usually zone out because, in reality, I’d prefer to find out for myself.

So the next time you meet a foreigner, even if they seem to think that all Texans are George W. Bush, and all Californians are Paris Hilton, instead of launching into a well practiced diatribe in defense of your hometown, give them a chance to figure it out for themselves.  I, for one, will stop hiding the fact that I’m from Beverly Hills.  They can figure out for themselves that I don’t have a trust fund.  It shouldn’t take long.