How does one become a butterfly?

Posted on February 8, 2015 by Kym Hamer

Yesterday I went to see the movie Selma. It’s about Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights Movement’s defining march from Selma, Alabama to the state’s capital, Montgomery in 1965. It was hard to watch in places – the barbarity of humankind is a confronting thing to see – but at the same time, I also learned a thing or two and was particularly inspired by LBJ‘s involvement in getting the Civil Rights Act of 1968 through Congress. I had no idea that he actually did this thing that made such an enormous difference in his time as President of the United States (1963 to 1969).

Earlier this year, my boss confirmed that I had been selected to participate in our Leadership Development Programme and this week, I received a couple of books to read on Go MAD thinking (MAD stands for Making A Difference) as part of the preparation. Having arrived home from the cinema feeling somewhat sober and reflective, reading something called Go MAD: the art of making a difference really hit the right note.

So I’m reading Principle One: Have a strong reason why you want to go MAD, and on page 38 I read this:

How does one become a butterfly?

You must want to fly so much,

that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.

It pulled me up short. I let my gaze hover over the words and felt my heart swell. It made me think of another quote I read years ago (attributed controversially to Guillaume Apollinaire) that over the years, I have scrawled on the inside covers of notebooks and scraps of paper at speaker events and conferences. It goes like this:

Come to the edge, he said.

They said, we are afraid.

Come to the edge, he said.

They came.

He pushed them…and they flew.

There’s something about ‘flying’ that provokes feelings of being free for me. I jumped out of a perfectly good plane once – albeit attached to the front of someone more expert at it than myself – and during the exhilaration of the free fall, experienced an overwhelming sense of freedom and peace that I never wanted to end.

You could argue that I did this – flew that is – at least once more when I left my comfortable life in Australia and built this one here in London that I love so much. Strange accent aside, some might not see so many changes but deep down I know myself very differently from the 34-year-old who left Melbourne in 2004.

So how does one become a butterfly?

The butterfly doesn’t know exactly how the world outside its chrysalis will be. It just knows it needs to spread its wings to survive and thrive in whatever lies ahead. Over the last 6 months, I have also had a sense of a change coming. I haven’t known quite what this might be – a bit like the butterfly – but my gut is telling me to be ready. And by ready I really mean being open – to new ideas, ambitions and possibilities.

I’m calling this the Butterfly Principle – this preparing to take flight despite an unknown, uncertain future. It is fluttering gently around my thoughts and making me wonder what path I will carve out next. Will it be a continuation of the current one with a change just around the corner? Or will there be a fork in the road?

So I’m off to explore how I want to spread my wings and take flight. Who knows what’s going to be next? All I know is that I’m looking forward to finding out. And I’d love to hear what inspires you to fly.

A sweet life

Posted on February 1, 2015 by Kym Hamer

It feels like January has disappeared in the blink of an eye and that, at last, the real chill of winter has descended upon the UK, settling itself around London’s shoulders and shrouding parts more northern with snow and ice. Since my return from Down Under on the 7th, I have been bundled up like a veritable pass-the-parcel prize, the clear skies making the morning air sharp and bracing on my nose and ears.

And yet despite the layer of frost over the back garden each morning, the green stalks poking out of the soil herald the coming of daffodils and I am also convinced that my morning commute is becoming a shade lighter. This may be a sign of Spring or foolish optimism or both.

In any case, since my last post my sister has graced Gidday HQ with a little visit.

(Yes I know I only saw Lil Chicky over Christmas but she was in The Netherlands for work and one of the founding principles of expat life is ‘never waste an opportunity to hug your loved ones’. More on this sibling hugg-ery in a later post.)

So I picked her up from the airport and left her in Gidday HQ’s second bedroom to get settled in for her four day sojourn. Wandering back in a few minutes later to assess the coffee situation (essential to Lil Chicky’s status of well-being and general happiness), she asked me to pick up her jacket off the bed.

That’s right. 4kgs of gastronomic nostalgia! There were (clockwise from top left) Chicken Twisties, Burger Rings (~~snacking on~~ scoffing these as I type), Cheezels, lamingtons (in the plastic container), licorice bullets (soft licorice covered in either dark or milk chocolate), Caramello Koalas and a whole heap of my favourite chocolate bars, Violet Crumble.

You may well laugh but while Aussie vittels like Milo and Vegemite are pretty easy to come by in the UK, these are things that I have not been able to find over here, particularly since the demise of The Australia Shop. It is a complete joy to have a little stash of these for home as well as enough to take into work to Aussie-fy my colleagues. Let me tell you, the few bags of koalas and bullets I brought back with me earlier in January went down a treat in the office with one lady describing the bullets as a ‘taste sensation’.

But there always comes the moment when the last one is gone and I wonder how long it will be before my next nostalgic face-stuffing and while that might be a week or so away at the moment, the thought of a Violet-Crumble-less future makes me a little despondent.

But last night, after a bit of wine and a good meal, some English friends of mine and I discovered the Kingdom of Sweets…and these…

…as well as these.

IMAG2217[1] There were also English retro sweets like Parma Violets, White Mice and Love Hearts…

…and for the Americans, there was an abundance of Wonka confectionary, Fluff (my English friend giggled)…

…as well as the biggest bottle of Hersheys syrup I have ever seen.

IMAG2220[1]

85 Oxford Street has just become my new favourite place in London. Although I read that Nestle deleted Violet Crumble from their range in 2010 and that more recently, a descendant of the original inventor Abel Hoadley has been chasing the recipe and naming rights. Go Bryan (Hoadley) I say. It would be a tragic thing to be missing this chocolate-y honeycomb moment of joy from my nostalgic nose-bag.

So January may have passed in the blink of an eye but things are definitely looking up.

Best I get myself back to the pool so this sweet life doesn’t migrate on a permanent basis to my sweet a**!

Two tribes

Posted on January 21, 2015 by Kym Hamer

Today marks the 11th anniversary of my arrival in the UK.

Anniversary number eleven means gifts of steel (apparently) – not a flashy or expensive token of my fortitude and faith yet somehow appropriate. Let’s face it – steely determination has been an essential prerequisite in building my new life here.

Today I also became a British citizen.

Well actually, me and about 30 other people from a cross-section of 21 nations: from Africa to Asia Pacific, from the continent to the sub-continent and the Russian Federation (where exactly does this belong now?). A mere slice of Barnet‘s multiculturalism compressed into the Council Chambers at Hendon Town Hall.

So sometime between 10.30 and 11.10am this morning, I made my ‘solemn, sincere and true’ declaration and pledged my allegiance to Queen and country. The Deputy Lord Mayor of Barnet shook my hand and handed me my Certificate of Naturalisation. I warbled my first God Save The Queen as a Brit. And it was done.

I’ve also retained my Australian citizenship so now, rather than being a citizen of one and a resident of the other, I am a fully fledged ‘member’ of two tribes – the two nations that rule my heart.

And today, my divided heart felt the significance of this morning’s ceremony. But it wasn’t the passionate advocacy of the registrar or the deputy mayor to accept our new British-ness with pride or their heartfelt thanks for choosing a home here that moved me. Rather it was their reference to the ceremony as a rite of passage.

It felt like a small stone marker had been placed into my expat life: in a moment I was taken back to the 21st of January in 2004 when me, my two suitcases and a whole lot of steely determination arrived at Heathrow Airport to stake our claim.

Eleven years on, I stood in a room full of strangers and with a pledge, a song and a piece of paper, stepped over the threshold and into a new chapter as a British citizen.

A new chapter

Posted on January 12, 2015 by Kym Hamer

Gidday!

Welcome to the new look Gidday from the UK .

After more than six years of tap-tap-tapping away, I’ve finally decided to relocate my witterings to a brand new home. Six years is about the longest time I’ve lived in any particular place of abode so with hindsight, one might see the inevitability of this move as a result of some subconscious alarm clock. Or not.

Anyway, here we are – courtesy of WordPress – with a new url: giddayfromtheuk.com.

As with all new chapters, it’s an opportunity to take the best of the familiar and to explore some new horizons. The most obvious change is to Gidday’s look and feel. The masthead photo – of Trafalgar Square – was taken on my daily commute: standing on the corner of Northumberland Avenue waiting for the pedestrian lights to change on a brilliantly blue-sky summer morning. I love its unusual perspective, of seeing the possibilities of the world – it seems – from Admiral Nelson’s point of view.

It’s also a chance to rethink, reshape and recraft based on what the last six years have taught me inside and outside the blogosphere.

There’ll be a myriad of reflections on the world – opinions, musings, questions about the things I see, hear, read on my way through life.

You can also expect more of those everyday ‘nows’ that remind me that life is filled with millions of these tiny, poignant moments and is all the better and richer for it.

And you can still expect a healthy dose of Aussie irreverence. After all, it wouldn’t be Gidday from the UK without it.

So thanks in advance to my Gidday-ers: those of you who’ve supported my blog in the past and may migrate from the old to the new digs with me. And a big Gidday welcome if you are new to Gidday from the UK.

I hope you enjoy this next chapter and as always, I’d love to hear from you.

pssst…if at any point, you’re interested in a little trip down memory lane, or to see where Gidday from the UK began, you can check out the original website at www.giddayfromtheuk.blogspot.com

New Digs…

Posted on January 12, 2015 by Kym Hamer

Gidday from the UK has moved.

You can find me now at http://www.giddayfromtheuk.com

Preparing to Migrate…

Posted on January 10, 2015 by Kym Hamer

After a few months hiatus, I’m now preparing for Gidday from the UK‘s migration to WordPress.

So I’m just having a final tidy up at the new digs before the ‘open house’…

I’ll give you a shout when the beers are in the esky and the barbie’s fired up…

Mumbai Moments…

Posted on September 14, 2014 by Kym Hamer

Back at the start of 2012, I read a book called Shantaram. Written by Gregory David Roberts, it is a narrative based on Roberts’ experiences in the Bombay underworld. It is a wonderful read, my first taste of India and according to the Indian friends I know, an accurate depiction of Bombay.

This week I got to see it for myself.

Lucky enough to travel to India for work, I spent an overnight in Delhi – not enough time to see anything unfortunately – before heading south for two days in Mumbai (aka Bombay) and after a day at our factory and offices, it was time to experience a little local colour with beer and vittels at Cafe Mondegar.

Cafe Mondegar is located on Colaba Causeway, (officially known as Shahid Baghat Singh Road), a land link between Colaba and Old Woman’s Island in the south of Mumbai and a buzzing commercial street filled with bars, restaurants, cafes and throngs of people. Cafe Mondegar, or Mondy’s to the locals, is a hub for both local and expatriate socialising with tables and chairs packed closely together and a menu catering for adventurers seeking local flavours as well as travellers pining for a little taste of home, wherever that may be.

The main cafe wall is covered with a cartoon mural painted by famed Indian illustrator Mario Miranda which depicts the hustle and bustle of life in Mumbai – these caricatures can also be spotted on the plates supplied for your meal as well as the salt and pepper shakers on each table and a range of items for sale like t-shirts and mugs.

I was told that Mondy’s represented just the tip of the culinary iceberg but was an excellent place to start so left the ordering up to my colleagues with the only stipulation being I wanted to eat local food. In my experience, eating food in its place of origin always tastes better and I was not disappointed. Each dish was delicious and washed down with a range of ice-cold beers. With the vintage jukebox busting out some excellent 80s and early 90s tunes, Mondy’s got a big Thum(b)s Up from me.

Thums Up, India’s favourite cola

The following day it was time for some retail visits, seeing the types of products available and how they are sold – quite different from the superstores and chains of the more developed markets that I am used to. What it meant was that, albeit from the back seat of our Tata car, I got to see Mumbai.

Our first stop typified Mumbai for me, a curious mix of new affluence and poverty side by side.

Taken at Phoenix Market City, Kurla, Mumbai

Our second stop saw us back in the Colaba region. The streets off the main roads were quieter and lined with colonial architecture, a hangover from the area’s occupation by British forces in the 1700s.

Famous residents include Sir Ratan Tata, the Emeritus Chairman of Indian multinational conglomerate Tata Sons, the holding company for Tata Group (ownership of Jaguar and Tetley Tea among its many interests).

Speaking of Tata, we did visit one of their Star Bazaar stores in Andheri…

…where we managed to buy a Magnum (ice-cream) – quite new and extremely expensive in India according to my colleague – and eat it watching one of Mumbai’s many entrepreneurs…

Mumbai money: She’s selling Tupperware from her car boot.

And then it was time to head back to the hotel so we hit the road…

So that was the end of my first visit to India and more particularly, Mumbai. Where 20 million people exist side by side in states of extreme wealth right through to abject poverty and where entrepreneurialism thrives as every man, woman and child finds ways to make ends meet. Its crowded streets are overwhelming, decimated at this time of year as the monsoon season wrings out its final downpours and filled with the strangely happy beep beep of car horns as the traffic pushes and snarls and untangles itself again.

The atmosphere is one of tolerance – how could such diametric opposites co-exist without it – and a mixture of acceptance and hope, an acceptance of one’s destiny yet a belief that one’s actions in life will generate ‘good’ karma. And I found myself unexpectedly moved by this metropolitan melting pot, its busy, bustling hopefuls and its fusion of many opposites.

Gregory Roberts writes this in Shantaram:

“Fate gives all of us three teachers, three friends, three enemies, and three great loves in our lives. But these twelve are always disguised, and we can never know which one is which until we’ve loved them, left them, or fought them.”

I wonder what Mumbai will turn out to be.

A Day At The Fair…

Posted on September 6, 2014 by Kym Hamer

This time last week I was arriving at Heathrow Airport after a 9 day soujourn with Seattle-A and all of her boys.

You see, I’d managed to tack a few flights onto the end of a work trip so after about 7 hours flying (and a rather tight connection dash through Houston Airport en-route) I arrived at Seattle-Tacoma Airport on a warm evening in August to be hailed by a fond Coo-ee! and Seattle-A hug at the luggage belt.

It’d been about 6 months since my last visit so there was loads for us to catch up on over a burrito and a gin and tonic on the way home. There are so many changes happening in both of our lives – she as a second-nation expat and mother of twin boys and me as somewhat of a jetsetter in my new (since last October) job – but the feeling of picking up where we left off last time remained.

It was an unexpectedly busy first few days as a) Grandma-C was enjoying the last few days of her very own Seattle sojourn and b) I was invited to accompany Team-M on a long weekend in Walla Walla in Washington’s wine region under the auspices of celebrating a friend’s 40th birthday. Hmmm more travelling…but made palatable by wine and friends at the end of it.

Returning from our weekend away, I was left with a few days to hang out at Chez-M, plenty of opportunity for a cuddle top-up with my favourite little dudes and to soak up some Seattle-A time to sustain me until my next visit.

On my penultimate day, this included a trip to the Evergreen State Fair.

There was some discussion between Seattle-A and I beforehand as to what format this would take compared with our Aussie experiences – pavilions, rides, shows or lots of livestock to stand around and ‘admire’ outside. As it turned out, it was a bit of everything plus some fair ‘fare’ so here’s a quick scoot around the fairground for your armchair touring pleasure.

There was not one but two ferris wheels…

…and there were rides and games and plenty of vittels…

…although the Snohomish Pie Company (above bottom right) sold only sweet pies much to our disappointment. This turned into an important cultural lesson as the locals in our group laughed at our ‘uniquely Australian’ expectation of a savoury Snohomish slice.

We soon got our own back.

Seattle-A and I were rather curious about this apparently Australian delicacy, a large onion peeled, flowered and floured before being deep-fried. Upon interrogating the purveyor of said goods, we learnt that there was no Down Under connection at all. Nor did we find out who ‘Aussie’ was.

After a quick reconnaissance we were soon tucking in to some local vittels of our own…

The top right photo shows bacon on a stick. Yes that’s right – bacon – on a stick.

Those enormous deep fried things bottom right are onions rings (as distinct from the onion burst discovered earlier).

To the left is my lunch: a bottle of root beer (seriously I could not get enough of this stuff – anyone who can tell me where I can buy this in the UK will earn my eternal gratitude) and an all-American Russian piroshky. The lady was making these by hand when I approached the van so it was a salmon and cream cheese one for me and a meatier version for Seattle-A – delicious!

Soon it was time for a little more wandering and while we were searching for the petting zoo (the main agenda for our visit), our little group was waylaid, this time by ice-cream. Seattle-A was delighted with her Chocolate-Almond choice and was looking forward to devouring the whole lot…

…but the little dudes, particularly R, had other ideas.

And I can’t say I blame them – the couple of bites I had were divine!

More meandering followed with the little dudes practicing their new-found walking skills…

…and before long we found ourselves near our destination, these wooden creatures greeting us as we approached the location of said petting zoo.

With bears in the Chez-M area – neighbours report ursine visitors ransacking garbage bins under cover of darkness – we thought the ones below would look great scattered through the trees surrounding Chez-M but were unsure as to whether they would attract, repel or even ‘upset’ the real thing.

Speaking of locals, we were also treated to a display of indigenous colour and rhythm here so the little ‘uns in our party did a bit of tribal foot-stamping to the beat of a native drum.

Finally, we made it to the zoo.

Hooray I hear you say.

O (left) was not entirely sure of the competition for Mum’s attention…

….but R (right) was fascinated by these real-life creatures previously only seen in picture books.

So that was our big day at the fair. A hot, blue-sky day filled with new experiences for the young…

…and the young at heart.

And so the following day I packed my Day at the Fair alongside my new stash of Seattle memories in my suitcase, said some emotional good-byes and flew home.

But I’m already thinking about the next trip.

You see Seattle-A turns 40 next year…and you know how I love a birthday!

British…With A Twang

Posted on August 27, 2014 by Kym Hamer

I’ve been living in London now for more than ten years and lately I’ve been thinking about forking out some of my hard-earned pounds for British citizenship.

I have no plans to make my home elsewhere. I’ve blogged before about my pride in the life I have built here and I still love London. Yet there is a part of me that wonders whether some change in legislation or circumstance might result in my losing my right to live and work here (for the uninitiated, this is called Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK).

With all of the travelling that’s been going on of late, I love nothing better than coming back to London’s grit, its hustle and its stiff upper lip-ness – things that I never thought I’d love given the qualities I miss most from Down Under are our laconic ease and quintessential directness. And my London friends tell me that I’m still identifiably Australian.

But in the last few weeks, meeting new people has been met with ‘You sound English – but there’s a twang in there? Where are you from?’ as opposed to the previous ‘Are you from Australia or New Zealand?’

Back in June 2011, I read an article in the Australian Times which asked Are You Losing Your Australian-ness? and at the time, I identified two things:

1. I was about 41% of the way along the list of 12 steps indicating British-ness.

2. That British-ness would overtake me after about a decade.

So it seems that the article was true to its word – linguistically speaking that is. But as we Australians can maintain our Aussie citizenship and hold a British passport, it’s not like I have to relinquish everything. It will just be that my divided heart will be manifested in dual nationality.

Life has a funny way of throwing one a curve ball and while I might be sitting in the dugout waiting for the next ‘batter up!’ (I’m in America at the moment so please excuse the additional third-cultural reference), previous innings have shown that it’s best to be a little prepared.

So it means I have to fork out some cash and get a few details together…like details of the last five years of travelling…to complete my application.

Now that’s going to take some doing…