pram (stroller), bub (baby), creche (daycare)
avo (avocado), capsicum (bell pepper), brekkie (breakfast), frosties (cereal), tomato sauce (ketchup), sachet (packaging)
bikie(biker – as in biker gang), tradie (trades person), sparky (electrician)
shazzer(??), bazzer (Barry – name), ranger (red head, so ooo offensive)
boardies (board shorts), togs/ swimmers (swimsuits), thongs (flip flops), jumper (sweater)
fuel/petrol (gas), bitumen (asphalt), wagon (suv), fourbie (4×4) (sp?)
lift (elevator), car park (parking lot), foot path (sidewalk), jug (pitcher – or kettle)
my shout (my treat),
As we mark one year in Australia I stare up at the ceiling before I go to bed and think of the words I use nearly all the time. My parents have come to visit from Canada, and I notice the differences in vocabulary a lot more.
It is a coping mechanism, to use slang as much as possible. I still say things from time to time that most people in my life (here) think are weird.
A recent example – a friend wanted me to bring a “jug” to a barbeque so that she could make juice. In Canada we would call it a pitcher. Driving home, I asked for the pitcher back, and she had no idea what I was talking about, and her and another friend started laughing. They laughed at the use of pitcher, but not at the left over label on the jug / pitcher “Jesus Juice” (from a party before we left Canada – sometimes I think I am pretty funny / clever).
I didn’t really think that much had changed between a year ago and today – but it’s snowballed and I’ve realized some very specific and unique things have changed:
- Can peel and cut up a mango – a year ago it was a juicy mess
- Can make decent guacamole (greek yoghurt, garlic salt, lemon, avocado) AND cut up an avocado properly
- Can drive a manual car
- Can drive a 4×4 manual car
- Not (as) afraid of spiders
- Not (as) afraid of the ocean
- Relationship to the outside world in general
Also – we found a tree frog hiding in the boot / trunk of our wagon/suv. This, of course, was after driving about 25 km to pick up my parents at the airport. There is nowhere to put a fist sized tree frog when you are in the middle of a car park/parking lot.
The frog managed to survive the return trip, and I was able to get him out of the wagon – remembering that human skin is generally not very good for frogs, I grabbed my gardening gloves first.
It looked like he was ok.
Bring on 2014 !