Ah yes I found the column I wrote last last year for college. I showed it to my friend Chris. He thought it was funny. This is my predictions for Australia.
Learning to Speak Australian
Next year in February, I am going to Australia. It was the song The Land Down Under by Men at Work, the bitterly cold winter and the stress of college life that are inspiring me to do this.
Australia is a long ways away from home and to make a journey of such socio-cultural proportions, not wanting to go overseas unprepared, I am learning to speak Australian.
Alternatively I should say Oz is a back of bourke from the Canadian hinterland and to learn the ways of the Land Down Under, I am going learn to speak Oz.
Now, you may have heard some Aussie phrases such as, G’day mate, or barbie as in barbeque or no worries. So for the fun of it I have decided to share with you some of the colourful Aussie lingo I have learned.
Aussie: I want to be a journo, so I am leaving my oldies, my rellies and my mates behind, to attend uni.
Here: Now that I have decided to be a journalist, I am leaving my parents, relatives and friends behind to go attend university.
Aussie: I will yabber with the banana benders in the warm sunny state of state of Queensland. I will take a James Cook around Brizzie, and surf the Gold Coast. Crikey! I need to buy me some sunnies and some cozzies.
Here: I will meet the fellow residents in the state of Queensland. It won’t be long before I will be touring the sites of Brisbane and surfing on the Gold Coast. All I need now are sunglasses and a swim suit.
Aussie: My relo’s say good onya, while my mate says I have a few kangaroos lose in the top paddock, that, I don’t know Christmas from Bourke Street. That dill hasn’t got a brass razzo of how to spell.
Here: My family supports my decision, but one friend of mine gives me the impression that I am not the brightest crayon in the box, that the light is on but know one is home. This advice is from someone who can’t even spell. It’s spelt pretty, not pritty, sentence, not scintance. Enough said.
Aussie: My mate says don’t go because I have no moolah, it is going to cost big bikkies. Stuff that, no drama I am goin’.
Here: My friend figures that I shouldn’t go because I have money and it is expensive. Darn it anyways this will be a never ending conundrum, Melissa versus money. Who cares as the Oz, say no worries!
Aussie: If I my hopes were decided by heaps of moolah, I would still be in Lethbridge having a blue with her about whether, Oz has provinces or states or if them blokes Down Under are dodgy. All her yabbering is furphy.
Here: If I defined my dream by money, I would still be in Lethbridge having an argument with her about whether Australia has provinces or states, or if Aussie men are sleazy, enough with the false tales already.
Aussie: A bluey is a bluey is a bluey. Hey, look at that bluey over there! Ouch! Call a doctor I just stepped on a bluey.
Here: I would rather be wondering what an Aussie means when he or she says bluey, which could mean, pack equipment, a traffic ticket, a person with red hair, a Australian Blue Cattle Dog, a heavy wool or felt jacket worn by mining and construction workers or a bluebottle jellyfish.
Aussie: My mate big-note’s oneself too often. I would rather hope a roo. Hearing her yawn on about herself is not my bowl of rice. I say lets throw a shrimp on the barbie before I chunder. Everyone bog in, except for my mate she already full, full of herself.
Here: My friend thinks too highly of herself. In Australia I would call her a figjam, an unpleasant nickname for someone who full oneself. I would rather eat mouldy turkey than listen to her talk about herself.
Aussie: I think I am being meaner than cat piss. Maybe she’s upset because she doesn’t stand buckleys of going to the lucky country.
Here: Yeah I am being a bit mean to her. Maybe she is just envious because she can’t go to Australia.
Aussie: She is a bodgy blundger. Why she is being such a wakka? Who cares what that sheila thinks, no worries mate! She’s a greenie and by that I don’t mean an environmentalist.
Here: I have no patience for her envious notions. This is when I discount her oblivious uneducated observations. She is a green crayon. This explains the green I have been seeing lately.
Aussie: You’re a battler. You’re cluey, as cunning as a dunny rat. Be your own sheila, be your own bloke and don’t give up on your dreams. She’ll be apples.
Here: All dreams take hard work, if you want something bad enough it will happen. Don’t let negative people bring you down. You’re clever, smart. Stand out in the box full of crayons. Every thing will turn out in the end. It will be alright.
© Melissa Canadian 2006