ANZAC Day

As Americans, we like to think of ourselves as the professionals of patriotism, but after yesterday's events, the Aussies have proven themselves just as patriotic in my view.  ANZAC Day marks the day on April 25th, 1915 when thousands from the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps stormed the shores of Gallipoli, Turkey during World War I.  In a devastatingly ill-fated mission, thousands of Australians and New Zealanders lost their lives that day, marking a significant loss of life for the two countries who at the time weren't boasting the larger populations they have today.  Around 5,000 Australians were killed that day, and a total of 8,000 were dead by the end of the battle.  The Battle of Gallipoli was the first time the Australians acted on their own behalf as a nation.  Before that, I'm assuming Australia either wasn't involved very heavily in many wars, or they were fighting as Brits for the Her Majesty's empire.  Some say this day signifies the making of Australia as a nation in the minds of the people, even more so than Australia Day does, which marks the arrival of the first fleet of British ships in the late 1700s.  I guess the equivalent for the U.S. would be a mixture of Veterans Day and Memorial Day.  The Australians commemorate that first sacrifice those soldiers made for the newly formed nation of Australia, and they also acknowledge the living veterans of all the wars that have since happened.  

The day started out with a 4:45 am wake up in order to get to the dawn service for ANZAC Day and potentially have a good view of the service.  One of the Rotarians from my host club had offered to take me to the service with him, and I happily agreed to it.  I thought it would be interesting to see how an event that had no large bearing on the U.S.'s course in the war, and one I didn't know a thing about would be commemorated and acknowledged by a country who had a very special and painful connection to the event.  In the still quiet of early morning, Kevin and I groggily got into his car and drove from his house to the Shrine of Remembrance.  This mammoth monument situated on the south side of the Yarra River just off St. Kilda road was built in the 1930s originally just for ANZAC Day, but has also come to serve as a shrine to all Australians killed in subsequent battles and wars.

As we drove, Kevin had tuned the radio to the equivalent of NPR for Australia, ABC (Australia Broadcasting Company).  There was constant talk on the radio about different dawn services for ANZAC Day going on all over the country and even the world.  Not only were there numerous services in Australia, but one in Gallipoli, Turkey as well as one in France.  Once again I was reminded of how important this event is to a millions of people, and I barely even knew a thing about it.  The shrine is near the Royal Botanical Gardens of Melbourne on the South side of the Yarra River, but we were coming from an eastern suburb of sprawling Melbourne during lots of traffic so it was about a fifteen minute drive.  I noted how lots of cars were out and about as well, and activity was unusually high for five in the morning.  I quickly realized that this event was hugely attended and that I was about to be among tens of thousands flocking to the shrine for the dawn service.  After parking the car a few kilometers away, we began our hike over to the service.  As we got closer, more and more people began converging on our same path around the gardens.  With all the people headed towards a common point in the dark hours of early morning, the event began to take on a specialness even to me, someone quite new to all of it.

I soon heard a soothing, deep voice over speakers in the distance and knew we were close.  We rounded a corner and in the early morning light, the Shrine of Remembrance loomed before me.  At the time, I didn't know how many people were there.  All I could tell was that many people had aggregated in front of the monument, and we weren't going to get a very good viewing point.  That didn't really matter, though, because everything was spoken over a loud speaker to the whole crowd.  

The service was very well done, and I can see why Australians would swell with pride in their country after attending this ceremony.  The speaker told the story of ANZAC Day, read poems from some of the soldiers, and accounts of what those men had to face, the few that did survive.  Gun shots were fired during one of the hymns sung by a choirs of former soldiers.  They also sang "God Save the Queen" which, to my American ears, I recognized as "My Country, 'Tis of Thee."  Then the whole place joined together in singing Australia's national anthem, "Advance Australia Fair."  It was a moving ceremony, even to a bloke like me who didn't know a thing about the whole affair until now.  Later that day I found out that around 40,000 people had been in attendance that morning.  Forty thousand people got up at the crack of dawn, many of them hours before the service started so that they could be up front, to remember their past countrymen who died in the heat of battle, in a mission that was almost doomed from the beginning.  Those in attendance weren't just old folks either.  I saw people of all ages in attendance, paying their respects.  The event was a moving one even for me as a foreigner here, and the Aussies showed their true form as supportive and mindful citizens of their country. 

Confusing Lingo

Lately, my house mate Rob has been calling me "Aluminum".  Why you ask?  An odd choice of nickname, I know, but it came about one night as I asked him for some aluminum foil for cooking.  "Say it again, mate," he told me.  "Aluminum," I said.  "Aww, mate, that's all wrong.  It's aluMINium!"   The Australians say it as the rest of the world does: aluminium  (see my spell checker just told me to correct that).  The extra "i" at the end makes all the difference.  It's so funny how the way I say this word throws Rob for a loop every time, and it's become kind of a joke every time we cook.  Rob will even come home from his work and say, "How ya going, aluminum?" with a cheeky grin on his face.  It's so funny to me how in one part of the world, 300 million people won't bat an eye at hearing the word aluminum, but on the other side of the world, saying the phrase, "Where's the aLUminum foil?" causes these short pregnant pauses where the hearer grins slightly to himself, always reminding you that you say things quite funny.

Another prime example of how the lingo and pronunciation here can cause a bit of confusion happened when Rob and I were biking through Princes Park situated just north of the University of Melbourne.  We had a choice of a couple of different paths to head down through the park, and Rob said to me, "Let's go down this way, mate.  The symmetry is really nice."  I thought to myself, well this is a sensitive side of Rob I haven't seen yet.  He's perceptive of the balance and beauty bestowed on things because of symmetry.  Must be the architect in him.  So I responded in agreement saying something like symmetry tends to be universally thought of as beautiful and a lot of times really attractive people are thought to be that way because of the symmetry of their face.  Rob cranes his head around while standing up on his bike and gives me this perplexed look.  "Mate, what the hell are you talking about?  There's a bloody cemetery over here!"  I then looked to my left and sure enough, a huge beautiful "sim-eh-tree" was there, plain and simple.  These sorts of things happen from time to time here in Australia.  The lingo and expressions developed on this island nation will take awhile to get down, I guess.