Things You Cannot Say in Australia: Homage à George Carlin

Things You Cannot Say in Australia: Homage à George Carlin

We can so easily get into trouble assuming we have language in common — Australians and Americans.  It’s really the slang we sling with such wild abandon that leads us down the path of cross-cultural misunderstanding.   

Here’s a case in point:  

The evening was warm and the doors were thrown open to the night.  The Southern Hemisphere’s stars were close at hand — pinholes in dark velvet.  Candles marked small pools of warm light and the glow of the large TV gave the lounge a slightly milky coolness.  

An interesting and diverse crowd had gathered to watch the season’s finals in Aussie Rules Football, a bruising sport played without pads and no substitutions except for the odd bleeding gash or serious concussion. Conversation was a low murmur, punctuated by shouts of joy or groans of agony, echoed across the cul-de-sacs and escarpments by neighbors watching the same game. 

Guests drifted through the living room from time to time to check on their team’s progress and back again to the bar to pick up conversations abandoned for the instant replay.  Sausages sizzled on the barbecue, the aroma teasing on the breeze, and a salad glistened green on the black granite counter.

We were new in town that year, and included in the guest-list with that wonderful Australian generosity.  In an attempt to get to know other guests, I leaned over and casually asked, “What team do you root for?”  

Now, in the US, this is a completely benign question.  Mundane, even.  A common conversation-starter.  The answer can let you know if a person has moved and still follows the old home team.  Or has become a sports fanatic in his/her new digs.  Or doesn’t follow sports at all.  Any and all answers are perfect conversation openers.  

Rooting for a team is even immortalized in the song played in every professional ball park across America — Take Me Out to the Ball Game.  We all learn it in elementary school and at camps.  It’s part of American culture.  

Of course, put in another context, root has cruder connotations, but in a sports context, I  felt I was on pretty safe ground, conversation-wise.  

Unless the context is Australian.

I knew I’d transgressed when the thick feral fog of silence fell, and the guy I’d spoken to looked at me in horror.  Heads turned.  How can there have been such a lovely comforting burble of conversation and the clink of glasses just seconds before?  I was the deer.  They held the headlights.  What had I done?

One of my friends leaned over, soto voce, and said, “That’s a rude question here, darling.”  She’d lived in the US and knew what sort of trouble I’d gotten myself into.

It appeared I’d asked this guy what team he (a) whored for or (b) with.  Either way, not quite the conversation opener I’d hoped for!

So, here’s what I learned that night.  One barracks in Australia, it was explained to me.  One does not root, unless one is a groupie used to sharing favors, a camp follower with a tattered reputation, as it were.  There will be no “root, root, rooting for the home team” here, my dear, and of course, no 7^th inning stretch.  You barrack for your team, and you may hoot as you watch the game, but be warned — root not.

And one more yellow caution sign for the road ahead:

That pack you wear around your waist to protect your valuables or in lieu of a shoulder bag?  That is a HIP-pack or a WAIST-pack, NOT a fanny-pack.  It would not be a good idea to stroll into a store in Oz and ask where the fanny-packs are.  Eyes would roll and stomachs clench.  Conversations would cease. 

In Australia, fanny does not refer to the glutes as it does in the States, but to female genitalia.  Ah-ha!  Good to know.  I wish I’d known.  

And on the other side of the coin:

My friend A.D., a self-styled Oz-merican who has lived in the States for decades, will tell you on her first trip to the US, she inquired what time the group of friends was meeting in the morning: “What time shall I knock you up?” she asked.  The American response was complete shock — not only because she was a beautiful young woman, but no attempt at a romantic relationship had been made, and foreplay didn’t seem to be in the cards.  Those Aussies!

Yes, it goes both ways. So many ways to get into trouble, so little time.

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For complete lyrics and history of the song “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Take_Me_Out_to_the_Ball_Game

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Thanks, Ann. 

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Note:  Cross-cultural misunderstandings are as fascinating as they are legion, and seem to occur because of assumptions we make based on our own culture.  The incidents above are just the beginning of a long list.