Whilst watching a rerun of Master Chef 2 I laughed and cried as an aching for my country stirred within me. The episode was the final master class and it was filled with banter and friendly putdowns between the contestants and judges that made me long for the joviality and quickness of wit that defines the Australian humour. It’s something that just doesn’t translate perfectly across different cultures, even the English speaking ones, this mateship that Australians have once they get together and can just have a friendly laugh at one another. This humour is what makes us Australian. We are not afraid to bounce off mate’s comments or find funny entertainment in the simple pleasure of being together.
Being Australian means you feel patriotism while baking ANZAC biscuit, biting into a lamington, serving a pavlova, spreading some vegemite on your toast or scoffing a meat pie. It means you can break out some Ocka slang when conversing around the barbie because “She’ll be right”. Being Australian is cheering for the battler, pulling down the tall poppy and looking out for others. There is this unspoken camaraderie betweens its people that keeps the Australian spirit alive.
When you hear someone say “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” you have an instant urge within you to echo back “Oi, oi, oi” because that is what Australians do. It’s calling your flip flops “thongs”. It’s guys slipping on a singlet and stubbies and wearing a hat surrounded by an array of corks and not feeling the slightest qualm about it. Why should we? We’re Aussie and proud of it.
When I lived in Oz I always thought that exploring overseas would be fun, gazing outside my front door and dreaming of the vast yonder. But once you are away from for a period of time you realise that the grass was at its greenest back home. So as an Australian I feel like standing on my rooftop of my Phnom Penh apartment and loudly bursting out with the strains of “I still call Australia home”, because all in all that’s what it truly means to be an Aussie.
