Aussie Slang and Sayings Info

Aussie Slang and Sayings

The moment I received word that I was selected for the Global Guide Exchange program, the anticipation began to grow. Who would I be staying with? What job would I be doing? What country would I be going to? And so on and so on. In the application process, we were asked to select three locations where we would like to complete our GGE assignment. We were also advised that RCI would make every effort to give me one of my 3 choices, however there was no guarantee. With that in mind, I began to contemplate the pros and cons of each location. Should I select somewhat completely foreign and unique from what I was used to, a place where I would be in for a true culture shock? Or should I try for something an little closer to that which I was accustomed to in the U.S., and still find a true vacation paradise? Somewhere like the Gold Coast of Australia. After all, by completing my GGE assignment in Australia, I'd become familiar with the customs, the culture, the food (I had heard they had an American Embassy on every corner . . . McDonald's). But perhaps most importantly, we spoke the same language, SO I THOUGHT! Upon setting foot in Australia, I realized within the first hour just how wrong I was. Communicating with the Aussies was going to take some getting used to. My first encounter occurred it the airport while going through customs in Sydney. I asked one of the agents standing near the back the line, "Is it difficult to get from the international terminal to the domestic terminal?" The gentleman replied by saying " Naahhh . . . Bob's your uncle, mate . . . Besides your flight doesn't leave this arvo, no worries." Not wanting to appear like a dumb American, I politely thanked him and walked away. My first thought was, "How did he know I have an uncle named Bob?" Although I understood what each word meant, I had no idea of the message he was trying to convey. And this was just the beginning of my indoctrination into the world of Aussie slang.
My next encounter of significance involved one of our own RCIers. I was standing at Andy Wilson's desk discussing our upcoming outing to a rugby game we were to attend in Brisbane. A Union rugby game. I say this because every time I tell this story to an Aussie, before I'm able continue, they ask, "Union or League?" As if I know the difference. Anyway . . . we were discussing the details as to when and where we were to meet. When a colleague of ours (who shall remain nameless) heard us talking, she immediately turned from her desk with her beautiful red hair and pretty smile, and said "Now Andy, be sure to have Don get a 4x and sit on the hill near the TRY and have a meat pie." I looked at Andy somewhat dumbfounded and thought . . . Ahhh, what am I getting myself into? Is this an Aussie X-rated foote game? Andy must have noticed the expression on my face and realized he'd better intervene by translating. He said, "Don't worry, mate. The TRY is what you refer to as the end zone, a 4x is a type of beer, and a meat pie is . . . a meat pie.
At this point it hit me. Communication is much more then understanding the words people speak. It's understanding the intent of what they're saying. We often take for granted that people understand what are saying. We do this in relationships and we do it with people we meet on the street and we do it with RCI members. I learned from this experience is that no matter how well I think I've gotten my message across, it's always a good idea to check for understanding. But enough of the philosophy!
It's now been three weeks Monday arvo that I arrived in Australia and I think I'm getting use to speaking Aussie. My days now are full on. I'm really wrapped about being here. NO kafuffles so far! My biggest problem is that every time we go out, it seems to be my shout. I'm beginning to whinge about that. I think it's a bit shonky that they tell me that it's an Aussie custom that the American always gets the first shout. Havin' a bonza of time in the land down under. By the time I return to the U.S., I'll have my Master's in Okerism. Well, got to run and get a big brekkie, nebblies just don't seem to be enough. Have a g'day, mates!

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