Saturday started off with a walk to the local park with my four year old boyfriend Ryan. It ended up with me and a thirty-something guy watching Serena and her ferocious faces and giant arms win the Australian Open live!
A guy called me back about an apartment share. We talked a bit about the apartment and when he asked when I wanted to come by and see it I said it might be convenient to see it on my way to the Australian Open, would he like to join me? He said yes. So, I went to see the apartment and then we went to the Australian open together. His name is David and he is a freelance photographer and teacher of photography. His work is really good. Check it out here. http://www.davidewingphotopgraphy.com/ The apartment was in a great location and David was quite the renaissance man--grows his own cooking herbs, renovated the house by himself, rides a motorcycle...
In my last blog post I mentioned that one of the girls at work gave me two ground pass tickets for the women's finals. That meant that we could get in to the main complex, but would not be admitted to the actual Rod Laver arena where they were actually playing.
It was fun anyway. If you watched the Open, you may have seen lots of trees and white tables with people sitting around watching the tennis on giant screens. I was one of those people. Gorgeous summer night. Very clean grounds, super nice people. So fun! Of course I had to walk up to one of the ushers in the actual Rod Laver arena and ask if I could just step in for a peek. It looked just like it did on TV, but it was hot in there. Also, you could hear people chanting something, but you couldn't make it out unless you understood Dutch. Justine had about 50 Dutch people cheering very loudly for her.
The weirdest part (for me) was that *nobody* was cheering for Serena. Of course I have no clue about tennis, so it wasn't until I got back to Heather's house and hopped on Google that I figured out that everyone wanted Justine to win because she was an underdog just coming back from retirement. Fair enough, but it may not be that simple...
I've learned that people here don't root for repeat winners. There is a cultural phenomenon here called "tall poppy syndrome" which basically means that there is resentment toward people who are successful and make it known. (some historical political reference about cutting off the heads of the tallest poppies). The tendency is to deflate people who try to distinguish themselves from others. If you are successful here, you do not talk about it. Apparently it resonates through every aspect of the culture. When I've talked people up in front of others, they've asked me very politely not to do it again and that it makes them feel uncomfortable. American faux pas. Oops! Sorry. Now I now.
Benjamin Franklin said "you cannot add to the stature of a dwarf by cutting off the legs of a giant". Hey, I'm just taking my life in a new culture one day at a time. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. I'll be keeping all compliments to myself.
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