Today marks eighteen months in Australia – we landed here as
a family on the 1st of August 2013 – jetlagged and squinting from
the unfamiliar sun that had eluded us for most of our lives prior to then in
Seattle and Reading. Funny to think it was only a year and a half ago – now the
kids’ entire lives are in the sun, the beach and the water. They have
integrated into their Aussie schools, made friends, picked up the local dialect
and play local sports. And Nicole and I have as well, maybe less dramatically,
but we have settled into a life here where we can always hear and see the
water. We have made friends and adjusted to local custom. We have over the last
couple of weeks met good friends for BBQs on the beach with the kids playing
down in the water as the sunset and had the whole work team and their families
up to our house for a post MYR celebratory BBQ. We have celebrated two
Christmases now in Sydney, in the hot of summer and with a surf before dinner.
We have made the flight with the kids back to Seattle to visit and had the
feeling that it was nice to see family but we really want to get home, back to
Sydney. I am not sure when this happened, this sense of home, but it had to be
sometime over the last eighteen months. A moment there when we no longer missed
the UK and Australia had become our home. I am reminded of Grandma Bly’s advice
- home is where your family is. Maybe it is as simple as this.
It is an awkward milestone – eighteen months; it lacks the evenness
of one year or two years or a decade. But it is an interesting milestone
nonetheless for me as it is the moment when we decided that our adventure in
England had about run its course and we started to consider our next step – reaching
out into the network, debating the whole move back to US or stay abroad, phone
interviews, etc… which led to a move at the two year mark. If we were again to
move on the two year mark, say this August, I would need to get the ball
rolling now – where do we want to live, what roles will be available there,
what makes the most sense on the work side and the family side, etc… It is this
debate that we have started to go through, this tiring and maybe futile
assessment of would we be better off doing this or that, what will be best in
the long term, for the kids, for work, for us. But aside from the debate on
stay or go, the eighteen month milestone has made me lean back and reflect on
our experience thus far which is what I wanted to share today.
People say that Australia is a hybrid of UK and US culture.
I believe Nicole already wrote about this so I will spare you my impression,
but it is at least at a basic level a reasonable assessment. What sticks out to
me the most about Australia is how similar it really is the US, or more
specifically, how not dissimilar it is. In England we really felt that we were
in another world – everything felt different from the US – the language was
undecipherable at times, most things felt much smaller than they should be
(cars, houses, fridges, etc…) and we were surrounded by an immeasurable wealth
of history and culture. We could run into London and see Big Ben, Trafalgar
Square, St. Peters, Tower Bride, etc… Or step into a museum and stand before
the Elgin marbles, Michelangelo statues, Van Gogh’s sunflowers. We could hop
into the car and explore any number of castle ruins before a cosy lunch and
pint of ale at a pub that dated back before the US was founded. And once we
tired of exploring the UK, Europe was at our doorstep. This is not to say that
the UK was perfect. We found living there hard in a lot of ways, and wet. I
love that we had the opportunity to do it, but I do not yearn to go back by any
means. But it felt different, distinctly different, an experience that we and the
kids would remember, justifying the distance from our families and friends in
the US.
Australia in contrast has appeal in a very different way.
The museums here in Sydney fall a bit short, as does the historical architecture
and to my knowledge there are no castle ruins or even real pubs to explore. Asia
is at the doorstep, although the journey is an eight hour or more flight to get
there. A long driveway if you will. Australia, or Sydney more specifically, is
however beautiful. Water is everywhere – from inlands protected bays and coves
to breaking waves on some of the world’s most beautiful beaches. The flora and
fauna is unworldly and in abundance – wallabies, kangaroos, koalas, lizards,
spiders along with beautiful eucalyptus or gum trees, banksia, creeping
jasmine, giant agave and the incredible frangipani. The weather is temperate
and mild and allows for shorts just about every day through the year. The sunsets are unbelievable every night. Pollution
is about as low as you will find in a developed country, crime is not something
that occupies the public imagination (neighbours leave houses unlocked) and people
are friendly. It is all unnerving at first, I found myself aching for a little
biting sarcasm or a cold rainy day at first. But you quickly succumb to the
pleasantness, drifting into life here in Australia.
It is this pleasantness that is at the heart of our debate
over staying or going. Pleasant is a funny word, synonymous with agreeable,
amiable, and likeable. Pleasant is good, but is it great? Is pleasant enough to
justify the financial cost, or the emotional burden of living so far from family?
Or is pleasant just what we need at this formative time in the kids’ lives?
While we may no longer be exploring new countries or rich
history, our life here is very nice. I work with a great team and enjoy what I
am doing. Patrick just started year 10 and is in all advanced placement
classes, is almost as excited about his studies as he is the upcoming beach
bonfire or surfing with his buddies, learning to drive and maybe even kissing a
girl (gasp). Kellen is starting ‘real school’, or kindergarten, on Monday and
cannot wait to tell us about his science studies which he is sure he will do on
day one. Ella had her first few days of preschool last week and is proud to be
the big girl who gets to stay after having brought and picked up Kellen every
day last year. Nicole has integrated well and made her group of friends as she
always does and is even considering going back to work here in Sydney. We live
on the northern beaches outside of the city, a long commute into the Sydney CBD
but a stones throw from an idyllic little village with a grocer, a butcher and
a baker. The house overlooks Bilgola beach to the back and Avalon beach to the
front, with view of the water from most rooms. The community is small but
great, with the same people at the ballet recital as at the nippers morning or
soccer or just in the grocery store. Not that everyone knows everyone, but it
is close. A place I feel good with Patrick running around town. Almost what I imagine
stepping back into time would be like, to the town my parents grew up in with
the exception of being on the east coast of Australia vs. the plains of
northern Minnesota. Small difference. The family is happy here, the lifestyle
is great, the environment perfect for raising a family.
But somehow something still pulls at me. Maybe it is
lingering wanderlust, a yearning to get out and explore the world, new
cultures, meet different people. It is this that set us out to begin with.
We are approaching an inflection point – if we moved this
August, Patrick would be entering his final two years of high school in the
northern hemisphere. I could not justify moving him later than this which leads
us to the conclusion that either we push on this winter (August) or we hold
tight and let Patrick graduate down here in three years. We either pack up and
start again, likely in mainland Europe somewhere, or really settle in – apply for
Australian residency, maybe buy nicer cars, think about getting a dog. The
shift from living somewhere where you anticipate being a couple of years vs.
somewhere you plan to be longer, maybe a lot longer, is subtle but real. Little
decisions around cell phones or where to live or gym membership are put into
new light. Vacation planning changes. Work and career conversations shift. College
research for Patrick takes a different light. We would need to get local
drivers licenses.
I am not sure where we will land with the decision – my heart
pulls me to move on while my mind tells me the best thing to do is to stay for
a while and enjoy life – see Patrick graduate, the kids build deeper
friendships and Nicole not thrust into a new place again to make friends from
scratch. Fortunately it is not a decision we need to make today, so until we
do, we will be enjoying the pleasant life and be swimming between the flags.