We all know the song and we sing it loudly when in a pub whether in Oz or anywhere else in the world. If it comes on, you sing it loudly. To an Aussie it is an anthem, to some more than Advance Australia Fair has ever been. Back in Sydney during the 2000 Olympics I had a conversation with a bunch of tourists who were telling me how they were sick and tired of hearing Advance Australia Fair (jealously maybe). I suggested Khe Sahn (thank you Don Walker and Cold Chisel) but they really couldn’t understand what Barney was saying let along what they unceremoniously called “caterwauling” by the lead singer! Bastards! During this conversation it turns out that everybody knows “Land Down Under” so it was agreed that evening at the pub that when an Aussie wins (which we did over and over again) then we would sing Land Down Under for the rest of the night! I lost my voice!
For those of you who suddenly feel the need to sing I present –
Anyway coming from Australia I am now living in Karaduvar which is NOT the Land Down Under, it is the Land Of Confusion. This morning my frustration with the language, with the everyday difficulties and with the sheer stupid is doing my head in!
The Turk has been here a week now, just one week. Certainly not long enough to have made himself comfortable in his new home however within days (nay I mean hours) of arriving he has decided that our balcony is not large enough and he promptly instructed builders to start work to increase its size. Oh and he also wants the garage changed. Fuck!
This morning I find myself making a butt load of cay (as part of your job as the property owner is to supply copious amounts of tea and water and anything else that the builder may desire (including extension cords and in this case a drill!). I am listening to The Turk shout instructions to anyone who will listen and watch him feel very important. I look out the window at the electrical wires that are mere metres from my outstretched arm. With the balcony being widened I have suggested that these should be moved but have been told to “not touch them”. Huh?
I cannot listen anymore. I cannot question why they are using a jackhammer on my walkway nor why I keep losing electricity every 10 minutes (which is making this blog page interminably longer than necessary to complete). I find it is better not to ask these questions. I flip open my ipad and search through for a particular play list. “Australia tunes” – there it is! Glancing down at the list I find what I am looking for, hit play and wait for the chorus so I can sing at the top of my lungs:
“Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover!