My first thought once exiting the Perth International Airport was: “Where is everybody?” I genuinely thought that maybe, I had arrived in the middle of a shooting for a zombie movie. One could literally hear the chirping of the crickets. Before making my way out, I had been rudely robbed of my precious 3-in-1 Nescafe coffee sachets and a carton of cigarettes. I paid the required fine for the carton because I couldn’t bear to part with my last ray of hope And apparently, those tiny bags of coffee powder have the potential to devastate Perth’s agricultural industry. I felt like my world had ended; what exactly, was I going to do without instant coffee? Fresh out of Mom and Dad’s shadow and emerging into the strong ozone layer-less Perth sunshine, I blinked like a newborn and tried not to cry my eyes out.
I watched in awe, once in the comfort of a friends’ house, as my housemates effortlessly produced meals out of jars. Creamy butter chicken appeared in front of me (from a jar but hey it was good!) and I ate voraciously, my appetite intensified with homesickness and the shock of a new culture. My first day at tutorials was stimulating and I managed to get past the awkwardness of small talk. My classmate turned to me and said, “So hey, a bunch of us are going to the tavern. Want to join?”
I blinked at him and stupidly pointed out the fact that it was 10.30a.m. He shrugged and said it was never too early for a beer. My eyes must have widened because the poor guy backed away and ran to catch up with his friends, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. Alcohol before breakfast seemed to be the norm for the students at Murdoch University and I had to learn to make variations of the joke that I couldn’t stomach orange juice at that hour so how was I supposed to hold down a pint of beer?
Then there was panic when I saw the way Australian girls dressed. I was confused at first, thinking perhaps that maybe some of them couldn’t afford clothes because they seemed to be always partially-clothed. I thought to myself that if Murdoch culture required me to have cleavage, then I should think about applying elsewhere. Surely people didn’t expect that I pull down my top and reveal my underwear to public?
And don’t get me started on the people that I saw walking around barefoot. I felt sad, thinking that maybe this state wasn’t as rich as I believed it to be if everyone walked around missing vital items of clothing! But then I learnt the price of my fees. And rent. And groceries. And daily essentials, like soap. Or the price of having a decent meal out. And I cried my eyes out, thinking about poor Dad, sending me to a country that he thought was going to give me a bright future, but really were full of people walking around without clothes and shoes!
I took comfort in going to the little Asian shop down at Kardinya. It was familiar, seeing brands I recognized and food I missed from back home. As the petite man packed my stuff, he gave me a huge smile and said “Cheers mate.” I was traumatized. He was Chinese.
Fast forward a year and I have to look back and laugh. I don’t think I have yet to utter the infamous “Cheers mate” line but I don’t feel as out of place as I used to. I might not start drinking before I brush my teeth, and I may not enjoy showing a lot of skin but I have started to really like it in this pretty state and I wouldn’t mind settling here (on second thoughts, I don’t know what I’d do if my children started talking with an Australian accent). Maybe I’ll consider England simply because the accents are sexier.
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