Day #11 - and Enough Already

Writing every day has been a real challenge, not to mention interesting, occasionally overwhelming, and certainly an exercise in self-discipline. When I reached Day #10 and found myself at a loss for appropriate subject matter, I had a rethink about why chose to crank out 30 blog entries in 30 days. The purpose was to get out of a slump and restore my credibility as a friend, family member and correspondent. I'm very pleased to announce that I have won the battle with writer's block, and I hope those of you who have (rightfully) assumed I had abandoned this blog will give it another go. And for those who hung in there during my dry spell, thank you very muchf or your patience :-> 

The Internet is filled with stuff nobody wants to read, and when we return to Houston this blog will probably acquire that status. Meanwhile, however, I will continue to write something of interest or humor at least once a week.

Day #10 of 30 - Eating Out

According to an online restaurant guide (Dining in Perth), there are more restaurants per capita in Perth than anywhere else in Australia, with at least 32 different styles of cuisine. I don't count Mexican because I haven't yet found a "Mexican" restaurant that serves anything faintly resembling those delicious south-of-the-border offerings we love so much. But that's another story.

I could not find out how many restaurants there actually are in Perth, but they do seem to be everywhere. The average restaurant is small and homey (about 20 tables) and with a delicious, specialized menu. Haven't seen any Cheesecake Factory-style menus here - most places have less than 15 main dish courses. Which reminds me - they have a different dining vocabulary than we do.

Entree:  this is what Americans call an appetizer. Paté, prawns (shrimp), soup, etc.
Main: The main course
Salad: Salad is generally served with or after the meat
Dessert: sometimes called a Sweet. 
Cheese: Many Australians prefer cheese to sweets after dinner

You can order an entree as a main if you want to eat a lot of it, and you can occasionally get a main in entree size if you ask. Portion sizes are small in comparison to the average American belt-busting ones, and it is considered bad form to ask for a doggie bag. You'll be met with a blank stare, and when you explain what you want, you will often be told that "we just don't do that here." If pressed, they will probably do it for you, but don't expect a warm welcome the next time you visit.

That sounded rather negative, but in fact, eating out in Perth is quite delightful. The food is super-fresh and well flavored. All the produce is from local farms, and there is a plentiful local meat, fish, poultry and seafood. The coffees are fabulous, and the desserts are too. There are some interesting favorites, like sticky date pudding (a rich, chewy cake often served with caramel or butterscotch sauce), pavlova (a soft, billowy meringue with marshmallow consistency), and chocolate cake, which tends to be dense and flourless. Guess which course is my favorite?  There are many wonderful fish to try like emperor, pink snapper, barramundi (Perth's answer to tilapia), salmon, and something called dhufish which sounds strange but tastes mild and good. 

Sticky Date Pudding with Butterscotch Sauce - yum!

In spite of this abundance of lovely restaurants, we don't eat out much. It's just too expensive. Dinner for two usually costs well over $100, including dessert or coffee (people usually choose one or the other) but without wine. If you eat out 3 or 4 times a week like we used to do in Houston, you won't be able to afford much else. A nice alternative is to try one of the bajillion little cafés for breakfast or lunch. There's almost always one or two within walking distance, and they have a way of making an omelet and toast look and taste fit for a king. Or just have a coffee. This seems to be a favorite pastime of Perthians. Cafés are perpetually occupied with small groups of people having a coffee or a "cuppa" (cup of tea) and a chat.

There is a special procedure to follow when eating in a restaurant. I prefer to think of it as a restaurant's rhythm or style, but it can be overwhelming at first.

1. Make a booking (a reservation). If you don't book ahead, you might get a table but it will be accompanied by a look that says "you got lucky this time, but don't try it again."

2. Arrive at the restaurant, give your name to the host or hostess, who will seat you.

3.  Within 5 minutes (usually), a "drinks waiter" will come over and ask if you would like anything. Chilled tap water is served on request, in a large corked bottle and small glasses (no ice). If you don't order wine now, you may not get another opportunity.

4.  5-10 minutes later, depending on how busy it is, another person will come and ask for your order. This is the "entree waiter." Don't ask about the specials of the day. That's the job of the "mains waiter."

5.   A few minutes later your "mains waiter" will visit, describe the day's specials (there are usually 2 or 3) and answer your questions about the menu. Main dishes generally come a la carte, so don't forget to order the sides like vegetables, potatoes, rice, etc.

6. Your entree will be brought to you by yet another waiter. If you require more water or drinks, let this waiter know and they will summon the drinks waiter back for you.

7.  10-15 minutes later your main will arrive. It might be brought by the same server who brought your entree, but not always.

8. The "mains" waiter will probably stop by and ask how your food is. At the end of the meal, they will return and ask if you'd like any dessert or coffee. In some restaurants, the owner or night manager may do this. Gives them a chance to talk to their customers and make the restaurant experience more personal.

9. Coffee. A beautiful ending to the meal. Almost every restaurant we've tried makes not only coffee but latte, cappucino, macchiato, espresso shots, but... they don't do decaf. You'll have to get by with herbal tea if caffeine isn't for you.


10. All those waiters, and none of them will bring you a bill. You have to go up to the front of the restaurant (or maybe the bar), tell them your name or summarize your order, and they will find your order ticket and charge the appropriate amount. You can linger a moment longer with coffee, but you'll be expected to leave once your "docket" has been paid.



When eating out, no tipping is required! For the reasons mentioned in yesterday's blog, waiters do not receive tips. We kept forgetting this at first, and Vince would get some funny looks from the employees. Then they would hear his accent and nod their heads -- "they're American, they don't know."  (But they would still smile and say thank you!) When I found out how much a server earns ($20-25 per hour), I stopped tipping. It is logical to assume that without the incentive of earning a tip, service would be poor. Not so. Because these jobs pay so well, they are highly sought after. And the restaurant community is a close one: if you mess up at one restaurant, word will get around and it will be hard to find another position. Traditionally you start at a small café and work your way up to the more upscale restaurants, with pay going up accordingly. I suppose the exorbitant prices we pay for restaurant meals goes to pay all the charming and efficient waitstaff. So... even though it costs an arm and a leg, it's still worth it. We are helping the economy (unemployment is 5.8% here) and making Australian memories to take back with us.

Day #9 of 30 - HOW Much?

I have commented before on how expensive it is to live in Perth compared to other places. Over the past several months I have pondered this mystery and discussed it with several people who have grown up here. After piecing together the various bits of information I have gathered, I have a theory which might explain it. So here goes.

The first and most obvious element is taxes. The free health care system (ironically, it is called Medicare) is not available to people from countries who do not provide free health care to Australians who visit there. While this makes sense, it still hurts to pay for benefits you will never receive. Also, in 1992 Australia made saving for retirement compulsory, in a program called superannuation. Broadly speaking, it forces everyone who works to save a certain percentage for their retirement. It's similar to the USA 401(k) system, except that your employer also makes contributions to the fund. The idea is to help full-time workers save enough money to live in retirement. The Australian version of Social Security pays only 25% of one's salary.

So... taxes pay for benefits and pensions. Then add duty (for imported items) and transportation to get everything to this remote place. These costs make their way into the price of goods and services. We do well with food and alcohol, because most of it is produced locally, hence no duty and lower delivery costs.

Why does it cost so stinking much to live here? I personally think that the largest contributing factor is the high wages people are paid. When we first moved here, I found it amazing and frankly, rather irritating to know that someone with barely a high school education could earn as much money as I was earning, with a Masters degree and 25 years work experience. But... over time my opinion is changing. The concept of work-life balance is starting to make sense. (See my earlier blog entry on the subject http://vetteroo.blogspot.com/2010/01/not-quite-perfect.html )

The average Western Australian has the equivalent of a high school education. There is no expectation for people to go to University. Why not? Because there are plenty of great-paying jobs for people with skilled labor qualifications, and the apprentice system is alive and well. For example, house cleaners start at $18 per hour, and an inexperienced construction labourer starts at $17.50 per hour. It costs around $100 for someone to mow your grass (although with last year's dry weather, this service isn't much in demand). This is completely opposite the USA, where you can get your grass cut for $25-50, house cleaners earn closer to $10 per hour, and construction workers earn minimum age ($7.25 per hour).

People get paid a heck of a lot of money to work here. Minimum wage is $15 per hour, and the average Australian earns $28 per hour, or $1,124 per week.

Before you start packing your bags to move here, keep in mind that Australians pay significantly more income tax than the average American. High income earners (>80,000) pay 48.5% in income tax. So no matter how much you earn, you're going to give a big chunk of it back to the government. These taxes pay for the very generous government services here. While this is of great comfort to Aussies, expats who pay into the system do not receive benefits back except in a minor way, such as being able to use the library.

Why do Australian workers earn so much more than Americans? A couple of reasons. First, there is no class or race of people who are willing to work for so little. There are very few refugees here, and the foreign immigrants here are almost always more highly educated than Australians. The closest thing they have are Aboriginal peoples, but their spiritual and psychological makeup is completely unsuitable for working - they go walkabout, they can live on almost nothing, and working is not important to them. The only alternative is to pay people a living wage -- enough to provide an incentive to work.

Costs are high but so are wages, so an equilibrium is maintained. The result is that you can be a gardener, bricklayer or hairdresser here and support a family on your salary. You can be a waitress* and not depend on tips.  There is a thriving work force and a healthy blue collar class of people who work hard and are proud of what they do. Like America in the fifties.

** No tips? See tomorrow's blog for more.
 

Day #8 of 30 - Off Season

"Let's do one more set, guys - my 6:30 client canceled," said Marc, the young whippersnapper who can inflict more pain on me than any soldier. I'm talking about our personal trainer, who puts us through our paces three times a week, and who is mostly responsible for our weight loss and improved fitness. I know it's mostly Marc because left to my own devices, I would hit the snooze button faster than you can say "blow off your workout." Some days the only reason we show up is because we paid in advance, and the only thing capable of getting me out of bed is the thought of not getting our money's worth. Greed. Sloth. Sometimes it works for you. I think that falls in the category of God taking bad things and using them for good.

So anyway, we somehow make the half-mile drive (yes, drive - it's pathetic but quicker) and stretch for 15 minutes so we don't tear anything important. It's a quiet day at the gym. In fact, it has been a quiet week here. Winter has truly arrived and so has the nesting instinct. People start canceling appointments, going on holiday to warmer places like Bali and Singapore, and generally forget about their workout regime. I'm sure that's why they have contracts and make you pay up front.

Poor trainers. They'll be lonely for couple of months, until the weather starts to warm up. Then, as the realization that beach and bikini weather is approaching, they will be swamped with desperate clients, queuing up at the treadmills and grunting in unison in group training sessions, and complaining about how unfair life is. Yeah, kind of like us on a tough day. :->  Meanwhile, we have extra room and Marc has a little extra time and attention to give us as he inflicts torture -- oops, I mean helps us reach our fitness goals. He tells terrible jokes, pushes us farther than we feel like going, and manages to stay positive in spite of our whingeing (complaining). Good on ya, Marc.

See you tomorrow (muscles permitting) for Day #9.

Day #7 of 30 - When the Shoe is on the Other Foot

When one is immersed in a foreign culture, it is easy to assume that we are the only ones who are confused about what is happening around us, and that the burden of adapting is ours to bear. But every now and again I am reminded that it does work both ways, as the following email demonstrates. I received this exchange last week from some mahjong friends.

From: Lyn Gilmore
Sent: Wednesday, 8 June 2011 12:35 AM
To: Anita Vetter et al…
Subject: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

Hey y'all,

I was at Target at Bullcreek today and they are selling genuine USA Campfire marshmallows for $3 a bag near the checkout. Expiry date 2012.  Since I brought back some graham crackers it looks like we are well on our way to all the fixings for s'mores.  Who has a backyard fire pit?!

Cheers,
Lyn

------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Julie Porter
Sent: Jun 9, 2011 10:32 AM
To: 'Lyn Gilmore' , 'Anita Vetter' …

 Subject: RE: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

Ok . following questions from an ignorant Aussie

1.  How are  'campfire' marshmallows different?

2.  Is the expiry date important other than the obvious?

3.  What are Graham crackers and why are they important, ?

4.  You will be pleased to know that I learnt that ' fixings' are 'ingredients' from watching F Troop when I was a child. BUT WHAT THE HELL ARE S'MORES ?

5.  Firepit? Seriously?

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Lyn Gilmore
Sent:  Wed, Jun 8, 2011 at 8:51 PM
To: Julie Porter et al…
Subject: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

I totally sympathize Julie! 

1.       They are big fat soft fluffy pillows of marshmallow-y goodness.  Different from the small yet delicious marshmallows served with coffee etc here.  About twice or three times the size.  Also, pure white.  Never pink.

2.       Mostly the obvious on the expiry - often USA products are pretty close or past their expiry when found.

3.       I will have to bring you a graham cracker.  Not sure I can adequately explain...it's a sweet cracker...kind of like a digestive biscuit?  We also use them crushed and mixed with melted butter for pie crusts.

4.       S'mores - traditional Girl Scout and Boy Scout treats (Girl Guides?).  Two blocks of graham crackers, with one or two roasted/toasted campfire marshmallow pressed between, along with a delicious square of (traditionally) Hershey's milk chocolate. http://images.foodnetwork.co.uk/recipes/traditional-smores.html

5.       They are WAAAAY better with the marshmallows cooked over an open fire.

It's a thing.  Like vegemite.  Something American kids all grow up with :-)

The vegemite "thing:" Australian kids grow up with vegemite spread on toast. Sometimes they add butter or cottage cheese. It looks like motor oil sludge and to my American palate it tastes just awful. But hey, they're not so crazy about pumpkin pie either. ("Why would you add sugar to a vegetable and put it in a pie?) And how about corn bread, chicken fried steak, and tamales? Anyway, I'm looking forward to a "s'mores night" as soon as it stops raining and we find a park with a barbecue pit. See you (munch, munch) tomorrow for Day #8.

P.S. My friend Lyn writes a wonderful blog called "Lyn Upside Down" which also addresses life for Americans in Australia. You can find it at http://lynupsidedown.blogspot.com/

Day #6 - The Cool Factor

If you have ever traveled overseas, you may already have come across the "no ice" syndrome. That's when you order a drink in a restaurant or from a street vendor and it comes (a) in a small glass and (b) without any ice. A request for ice cubes elicits an eye roll and the response "but madame, your drink is already cold. What for do you need ice?" If you persist, they will comply (at a leisurely pace) by bringing you a glass with 2 or 3 small ice cubes in it.

The same is true in Perth, where we have found that cold drinks are rarely served with more than a couple cubes of ice, if at all. We've also noticed that a high percentage of people enjoy hot drinks with their meal instead of cold ones. Dinner guests almost never accept cold drinks when we offer, and they look at us with blank stares when we ask if they would like a glass of iced tea.  Seems most Australians haven't heard of it, although you can find the odd bottle of pre-mixed tea in the grocery stores. Again, not refrigerated.

Why are there no iced drinks in Perth? Vince and I came up with a couple of theories.

1. It's a holdover from the early settlers from England. It's a jolly cold climate there much of the time, and people drink hot drinks to help them stay warm. The cool weather means that stored drinks never get that warm, hence there is no need to cool them down. Consequently, people are accustomed to having hot drinks with their meals.
   
2. Economics. When you purchase a drink here it comes in a 250-350ml bottle (8-12 oz) and if you're in a restaurant they will give you a glass to go with it. Only a few places provide fountain drinks. They do not give free refills, so people usually make one drink last the entire meal. Adding ice would either (a) take up space which could hold more of the beverage in question, and (b) during the course of an entire meal, it can water down the drink, making it less desirable.

In the US we have come to expect free refills in fast food joints as well as restaurants, and it is hard to imagine a place that does not serve fountain drinks. It is hard for us to imagine a watered down drink because, knowing we can have as much as we want, we load the cup with ice which means the cup will be only about one-third full of actual beverage. We can drink that long before any serious ice melting occurs.

Geographically, even the most northern American cities are south of most European cities. Boston is much warmer than London in summer, for example. And Houston is just "damn hot" as Vince says. We need ice in our cold drinks. If we're not cooling our drinks, we're using the cold glass to cool our foreheads.

This difference in approach is well illustrated in the story of my friend Cindy, who recently had reason to purchase a refrigerator for her apartment.  At the appliance store she requested a refrigerator with an ice maker. The salesman showed her a model which had a small freezer with two ice cube trays. "No, no, I mean an automatic ice maker." He showed her a model which had a small freezer section, plus two ice cube trays which were attached to the freezer and which turned over to release the ice cubes into a tub. You still had to fill them manually. In exasperation, Cindy complained "look, I need an icemaker that will make lots and lots of ice. Ten trays worth at least, that refills itself and empties ice itself. Do you have such a thing?" The salesman was stumped. He looked Cindy in the eye and asked "why would you ever need so much ice?" with a huge shrug of her shoulders and an exasperated voice she said "Ice -- it's what separates us from the savages!"

Cindy eventually found a refrigerator to meet her needs. Vince and I have several plastic ice cube trays which we fill manually. We have commandeered the one drawer in our freezer and use it to hold ice. Lots of ice. Ten trays worth at least.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I'm taking a day of rest. See you back on Monday, for Day #7.

Day #5 - Silver Linings

Another day of rain and I'm missing Houston, which makes it easy to complain about the things in Perth I find less than enchanting.

• Like the fact that their technology is about 15 years behind what I'm used to. For example, when iTunes released all the Beatles tunes, I couldn't download them because iTunes won't make them available to Australia. Hmmm...
  
• Clothing comes in lots of colors, as long as you like black. Shiny black, matte black, black & white stripes (no, that's too daring), faded black and dark black together, black cotton, black wool, and if you're a guy, you can wear a white shirt to go with your black pants. Ladies clothing sizes seem to end at 16, and that's an Australian 16 which in the USA is a 14. Sometimes I can wear them, sometimes not. I've given up on shoes - nobody carries size 12. But the stores are filled with black ones.  Black is the color of business clothing, and the locals follow this code faithfully. I have seen people strolling St. George's Terrace, the main drag of Perth's CBD (Central Business District) in everything from a suit & tie to a sundress (with bra straps showing) and flip flops -- and each person considers themselves dressed professionally. Some days I wear my tomato red dress into town just to brighten up the place.

• It is nearly impossible to go out to a restaurant on the spur of the moment. They take "bookings" (reservations) days, even weeks, in advance and have no problem turning people away if their book says the restaurant is full. When you book a table, you get it for the entire evening, regardless of how long you actually stay. So... the good news is that you can stay as long as you like, but the bad news is that many people are turned away when, if they had arrived 20 minutes later, they might be able to get the table once the customers finish their dinner.
  
• After 18 months here we still haven't found a place which sells anything like a burrito, taco or enchilada, let alone a proper Mexican restaurant. Gotta make them at home, which we do on a regular basis!
  
• House prices are through the roof. The average price for a 3-bedroom home is about $500,000. That's around 2,700 square feet. The bedrooms are small, small, small and the bathrooms are tiny. Guess they save it all for the living room and patio. Gotta have room for the barbie.

But... even these inconveniences aren't all bad. There's just one Freeway, the Kwinana Freeway. And while one fender-bender can tie up traffic for an hour, we live just one exit from the office, so we have been spared most traffic grief. And... I have saved lots of money NOT buying clothing and have managed to do just fine on my existing wardrobe. Nobody really looks at what you're wearing unless it's a real dress-up occasion (or it isn't black).  So nobody knows I'm wearing last year's sweater, and I can use the extra money for more fun things, like a vacation! And I really do have enough iTunes for the moment -- I still have a box of CDs in storage in Houston that I can load into the computer and onto my iPod.

The hardest thing of all about being in Perth isn't the weather, or the food, or the traffic. It's being so darn far away from y'all - our family and friends. I'm sending lots of hugs your way and thinking of you today. See you tomorrow for Day #6 - I gotta go crank up the Brooks & Dunn and make some enchiladas.