Friday, May 30, 2008

Pride and poppies


Here's a news feature I wrote earlier in the term about the differences in American and Australian educational experiences. Sorry, it's a bit long for a blog post. I'm still working out this kinks of this program and I haven't figured out how to link up to the longer article.

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Pride and poppies

As one Australian and American discover, same language only goes so far.

Cara Walkam knows exactly why she decided to study abroad at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst (UMass). But she prefers to keep it secret.

“It’s an unbelievably stupid reason,” she says. The normally eloquent law and languages student clams up and rubs her forehead nervously at the thought.

It wasn’t the location or the school’s reputation, or that it offered her specific subjects.

It was a song.

“One of my favorite bands, The Pixies, wrote a song called ‘U-Mass,’” she says, as if entering a guilty plea.

As the song says, “Of the April birds and the May bee, oh baby, University of Massachusetts, please.”

One look at Walkam and it’s conceivable that an alternative rock song steered her halfway across the planet. She wears black-rimmed glasses, but they’re peppered with rhinestones. Her espresso-toned hair is tied in a careless ponytail, but it shows off the killer neckline of her black dress. She’s smart, but she’s no dork.

The 21-year-old University of Wollongong student crossed the Pacific for her semester-long stint in August 2007. After years of watching American television shows and movies, Walkam felt she knew what to expect.

“I thought, ‘It’s America, it’s going to be the same as here,’” she says, laughing at her naivety. “But it was so different.”

In the States, Walkam faced the harsh reality of being the “other.”

“My resident assistant came up to me and said, ‘Wow, you’re the girl from Australia,’ and I started speaking to her and she said, ‘I didn’t expect your English to be so good,’” she recalls.

As Walkam discovered, Australian and American universities aren’t so similar after all. Indeed new findings by the Australian Council on Educational Research show American university students have a more “enriching educational experience” compared to their Australian and New Zealander counterparts.

Walkam considers the “brilliant” professors the best American university feature, but she takes issue with the study’s findings.

“In America, I’d hardly work on an essay and get 100 per cent,” Walkam said. “I felt it was too easy. They gave you marks just for trying. In Australia, it’s hard to do well unless you’re a genius.”

Besides the grade inflation, Walkam had to adjust to larger aspects of American campus culture. University pride, for instance, took getting used to.

“People really get attached to their schools in America,” she says. “It’s so odd but so nice. I wish we had that here, but school patriotism’s not a big thing in Australia.”

Tailgating before football games, sporting UMass t-shirts and sharing in the camaraderie of “being part of the university family” were all new concepts to Walkam, who previously thought university’s sole purpose was confined to a classroom.

That vocal pride in one’s school transferred to vocal pride in oneself in class. The enthusiastic participation of the “chatty American students” surprised Walkam.

Unlike her American peers, she grew up learning about tall poppy syndrome.

Unknown in the U.S., tall poppy syndrome describes a pompous, self-promoting attitude. Publicly displaying knowledge in class might be linked to such behaviour.

“Visualise a field of poppies with one taller than the others—it sticks out and draws attention to itself,” explains Carly Ludbrook, an American student studying at UOW. “There’s a stigma in Australia that you shouldn’t be that tall poppy.”

Ludbrook shares many of Walkam’s study abroad frustrations, including marking discrepancies and unexpected culture shock. While tall poppies surrounded Walkam in America, Ludbrook felt like the only one for miles in Australia’s quiet classrooms.

“Back home, there was so much interaction and classroom discussion,” Ludbrook says. “I feel like I
am the only one engaging in class here. It’s a really strange feeling.”

Ludbrook’s study abroad experience is, by every definition, uncommon.

For years she planned to study in England. But like Walkam, less-than-solid reasoning sent her packing elsewhere.

“I was in upstate New York in the middle winter and randomly decided I wanted to learn to surf,” Ludbrook says. “That’s how I chose Australia.”

Ludbrook first studied abroad at UOW in the spring of 2001. The next year, she returned for spring session. After meeting her future husband in Australia, she extended her stay. Since becoming a permanent resident in 2006, Ludbrook took up a Masters degree and now coordinates UOW’s Study Abroad & Exchange program.

“I’m in a unique position because not only do I get to meet Americans studying in Australia, but I also interact with students going off to America who come back with their impressions,” Ludbrook said.

Class participation is a major issue that often arises in the feedback. The American students are too dominating or the Australian students aren’t making an effort, she hears.

But lecturers, Ludbrook says, don’t mind a tall poppy or two.

“I’ve heard from UOW academics that they enjoy having Americans in class because they are more engaging than the Australian students,” she says.

But the question remains: Do students believe American universities offer a better experience? The real answer, according to Walkam and Ludbrook, is less black-and-white than the findings show.

“For the most part, UOW students find it easier in the U.S., but I get students who do think differently,” Ludbrook said. “Ultimately, it’s not the place that determines the quality of education. It is what you make of it.”

Poppy height aside, Walkam and Ludbrook believe the overseas learning experience offers benefits that greatly outweigh the drawbacks.

Just keep your eyes open for the right opportunity.

Or, if you’re anything like Walkam, keep your ears open too. KR

Sunday, May 25, 2008

You don't know what you've got till you hop across the Pacific

Hi, folks--
My first term at the University of Wollongong is coming to a close, so I thought I'd share a few writing samples. It's really just to show those naysayers out there that I'm not on an extended vacation. You know who you are.

I'll put more up within the upcoming weeks, but the piece below is an opinion column for my feature writing class. I actually don't have to turn this one in for another week, so if anyone notices any glaring mistakes, please let me know.

And yes, Australian men do wear skinny jeans.
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Sorry sheila, no well-mannered men here

Everything is bigger in America—even the grocery aisles.

At Australian grocery chain, Woolworth’s, you can only fit two trolleys across one aisle. A bit tricky at times, but it works if people cooperate.

However, I recently found myself barricaded in the Italian section. Two lads, who found it absolutely necessary to walk side-by-side, parked their trolleys in front of me while conversing about the merits of Woolie’s pasta sauce selection.

I know. Everything is bigger in America. But it makes you wonder which country really needs the wider aisles.

Australian men, whether they care to admit it, are just plain rude.

Go ahead, Aussies—criticise our loud mouths, our president and our addiction to fast food, but we’ve got you beat in the male department.

And until now, I never even knew it.

Growing up in America’s heartland, I was surrounded by courteous men.

Back home, men hold doors, not just for their own wives and children but also for others approaching. They apologise if they accidentally bump into someone. They say “thank you.”

At church, my dad would stand aside as my mom, sisters and I lined up for communion. A born and bred Midwesterner, politeness is part of my dad’s programming.

I can only imagine what he’d think if I brought an Aussie bloke home.

American women always moan about American men—they don’t dress well enough, don’t pay enough attention to their partner, work too much, spend too much time camped out on the couch watching football.

They whine about how happy foreign women must be.

Now, I can’t speak for all countries, but I can speak for two. And I’ve got a message for my ungrateful Yank friends: Be thankful you’re not an Australian sheila.

I’ve only been here four months, and obviously not every Australian man is deserving of my lashing. But this nation has a universal reputation for its unparalleled friendliness, so naturally I’m stunned that my countrymen are more cordial.

Aussie men have cut in front of me in lines and knocked into me without a hint of care. To them, I’m as good as vapor.

And this is hardly a generational problem. The younger Aussie blokes had to learn from someone.

I still remember when a 40-something man flagged me down at my gym.

“Oy!” he shouted. “Where are the basketball courts?”

“Right around the corner, first set of doors on the left,” I replied.

He turned right around and walked away. Nothing more. Not a single thanks or “ta,” the horrid Aussie alternative to a proper “thank you.”

I see young men walking at university. They gel their hair into perfect spikes. The stay on top of current fashion trends with their 1983 “Risky Business”-style sunnies. They wear skinny jeans. They sculpt a well-crafted “look.”

If these blokes put equal effort into their demeanor as they do their dress, Australia would harbour the greatest wealth of quality men the world’s ever seen.

What’s most unfortunate is it’s a waste of a gorgeous accent. Sure the speech is smooth, but I’d rather spend my time with a well-mannered man with an obnoxiously thick Alabama drawl than an inconsiderate Sydney bloke with a voice like butter. It’s a shame.

Maybe I’m being a difficult American female. We demand equal treatment, yet we still expect the same old fashioned respect and chivalry from our boys.

I might be asking too much. This could be one giant overreaction. A misunderstanding.

But then again, there are plenty of American men who see it my way. And I know heaps of Aussie women who want to be treated less like they’re invisible and more like a lady.

So blokes, open a door for a sheila tomorrow. And if it’s not too much, try sharing a trolley with your mate on your next trip to Woolie’s.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Join The Club...



...or suffer the consequences.

I've been intrigued by the level of "The Club" usage here in Australia. You know what I'm talking about. The Club was the coolest method of car security in America...about 20 years ago. But in Australia, The Club is a big deal. I'd estimate that at least 40% of cars on campus have The Club locked across their steering wheels.

And apparently for good reason.

There's a major car theft problem in this country (and to think Aussies get all touchy when you bring up whom they decended from...). See the second photo? Well, if you don't get The Club, your car might suffer the same fate.

Last Saturday night some hoodlums decided to steal a car and set it on fire right across the street from my house. While the fire brigade did show up to put the fire out, the charred car still sat on the street until Tuesday morning. It would've been there longer had Jenny not called the cops. Apparently, no one else in the neighborhood thought it was a problem. Hell, people even continued parallel parking around the burned out junker even though it was surrounded by chunks of shattered glass.

I don't get it. But I have to commend the Aussies. When they say they live a "no worries" lifestyle, they really mean it. But just to be on the safe side, if you're going to own a car here--get The Club.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Imitation is the highest form of enlightenment




Here's to hoping Buddha has a sense of humour...or at least feels pity for the easily amused.

Buddha made me a believer





Jenny and I visited the Nan Tien Temple last week. Located just outside of Wollongong, Nan Tien is the largest Buddhist temple in the southern hemisphere. Jenny has been anxious to go since we arrived here, but me...not so much. Unfortunately, I'm not a very spiritual person. But after this visit, I'm pretty convinced by this whole Buddhism thing.

First off, this place is GORGEOUS. It sort of sprouts out of nowhere, though you can see the pagoda from miles (or kilometers!) away. I could be wrong, but it seemed like the temple was surrounded by mainly industrial areas, which makes it all the more ironic. But again, the area within the temple grounds was absolutely beautiful.

Nan Tien isn't one single temple but a series of temples with different statues and religious icons in each. Obviously, I couldn't take any photos within the temples, but I did zoom in on one temple that had five huge Buddhas within it (they each represented different ideals), though I could only get two of them in the frame.

Anyway, you had to take your shoes off before entering the temples. Some temples smelled really fragrant and lovely because people were lighting pretty lotus flower candles as their offering to Buddha to answer their prayers. Other temples, however, smelled really strange--like a mix of body odor and incense. Oh well, it's religious so I got over it.

What I like about Buddhism is the focus on putting your beliefs within yourself, not someone else. Some would say that's self indulgent, but I think it makes perfect sense. But then again, I have been called self indulgent on more than one occasion.

Before we left, Jenny and I stopped at the temple's small cafe to try the lotus tea. It was really delicious and we drank it out of tiny wooden cups, which really added to the atmosphere. The tea was presented in a glass teapot with an actual lotus blossom floating in it. Sadly, the lotus flower was a bit withered and the leaves kept getting in our tea. So much for atmosphere.

We went on a Sunday, so the place was quite busy. Some people were there to actually worship, while others (including myself and Jenny, of course) were there to take dorky photos with the baby Buddha statues scattered around the grounds in different poses. I truly hope we weren't being too disrespectful, but Buddha seems like he's a pretty laidback guy.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Sydney Part Two!







Jenny and I had tickets to see American comedian Arj Barker at the Enmore Theatre in Sydney's Newtown district earlier this week. If the name doesn't sound familiar, he plays "Dave" on Flight of the Conchords. If the name still doesn't ring a bell, then shame on you for disregarding my earlier post. Go out and rent one of his DVDs. You'll thank me.

Anyway, since we had the day off and the show wasn't until 7:30, we decided to take advantage of the gorgeous weather and explore Sydney before the show.

Here are a few shots from my day:
A couple of seagulls hanging out in Darling Harbour
Luna Park, one of my favorite places in Sydney. I actually haven't been inside yet, but I love the creepy clown facade.
The Real World Sydney house in Darling Harbour
The Australian flag as seen from the ferry as we were sailing under the Harbour Bridge

The comedy show was fantastic. It was nice to hear another American's take on Australian culture. Honestly, I haven't met many Americans since I've been here--tons of Canadians--but no yanks. I really think Americans don't travel to Oz very much, which is unfortunate. It's a cool place.

My first rugby league game



I saw my first rugby league game last week--the Cronulla Sharks v. the Wests Tigers. Of course, I didn't have a clue what was going on, but it was interesting to see first-hand how crazy Aussies get over sports. Or as they say it, sport. The players were pretty easy on the eyes too....

Jenny, Andrea and I took the train from Wollongong to Cronulla, a southern suburb of Sydney. We met our Aussie friend, Amy, who organized the day and is a die-hard Sharks fan.

The stadium is set up differently than the typical American sports stadium. They had relatively little stadium seating--probably less than 10,000 seats. Most of the people hung out and just drank beer on the grass surrounding the field, which can be problematic if you actually plan to watch the game because it's hard to see the action when you're level with the field and blocked by drunk, linebacker-sized Aussie men.

Unfortunately for Amy, the Sharks couldn't recover after the Tigers made a couple big, last-minute plays. But I didn't really care. I've already pledged my loyalty to the New South Wales Waratahs. They're not even in Rugby League (they're in Rugby Union, and yes, there's a difference...it's so confusing), so they don't compete with the Sharks. I honestly don't know a thing about the Waratahs' players or schedule, but they have a cool name and even better merchandise. That's how I choose a team.

Photos: The top one is action from the game. The Sharks are in the light blue. The bottom one is of Jenny, Amy's friend Jess, Andrea and Amy.