Ten things that baffle Indians about Australia

Coming from Mumbai to Australia is one of the biggest culture shocks you can have, but there are ten things that baffle Indians the most.

Coming from Mumbai to Australia is one of the biggest culture shocks you can have, says comedian, Suraj Kolarkar.

1. Where are all the people?

This was the first thing we noticed coming from Mumbai into Brisbane. The streets are deserted. My dad’s visibly panicking because he thinks there’s been a citywide evacuation for an emergency.

Nope, that’s just how many people are out after 5pm in the suburbs of Brisbane. The greater Mumbai region has the same population as all of Australia … in one city. To go from that to the quiet, empty roads of suburbia was a complete shock to the system.

2. How you going?

My dad spent his first few days telling people he was catching the bus or catching the train when people asked him how he was going. “How are you?” he was ready to field, but “How you going?” threw him for a loop.

In fact, the word processor I’m using right now is trying to correct “How you going”. Throw that in with the difference in accent and he didn’t stand a chance.

3. Nothing vegetarian at Maccas?

Around a third of India is vegetarian. Picture: Mikechie Esparagoza/Pexels

Around a third of India is vegetarian. As such, Macca’s in India (or McD’s as we’d call it back home) boasts a wide range of vegetarian burgers. The McAloo Tikki is sensational.

As a young immigrant family surrounded by a new and unfamiliar landscape in Brisbane, we found our way to the recognisable golden arches for a late-night feed on our first night in Australia.

We left with Granny Smith apples. How can the biggest fast-food chain have no vegetarian food? To add to our confusion, we had never seen green apples before that. This certainly was no McAloo Tikki. Our first dining experience left a sour taste, especially with how tart and bitter a green apple is.

4. What do you mean ‘off season’ for cricket?

In India, cricket exceeds sport and verges on religion. Picture: Mam Ashfaq/Pexels

Australia has a love for cricket. There’s no doubt about it. But in India, cricket exceeds sport and verges on religion. I grew up playing ‘gully cricket’ in the streets of India. The ball would be some cork ball. The stumps would be a stray brick from a nearby construction site.

The pitch was a road, quite literally. Not a lot of purchase for the seamers. Some ‘dagdi spin’ (gravel assisted spin) for the slow bowlers when the ball would fortuitously land on some loose gravel and turn like Warney or Murali.

Seeing virtually nobody playing cricket in the streets was a surprise. The idea of ‘summer of cricket’ and only playing cricket half the year was mind blowing.

5. Diwali without firecrackers?

Wait so I can’t go down to the corner store and buy a huge assortment of fireworks? How do we celebrate the Festival of Lights then! The array of fireworks I grew up buying and lighting as a child in India is an experience not possible here. But there’s fewer burnt fingers and singed eyebrows, so that’s something.

6. Crossing the road

If you wait for a gap in traffic in Mumbai, you’ll be standing there for a week and a half. Picture: cottonbro/Pexels

If there’s one day-to-day experience that’s worlds apart, it’s getting across the road. If you wait for a gap in traffic in Mumbai, you’ll be standing there for a week and a half. Be aware of the traffic and walk at a constant speed – the traffic will weave around you with expert precision.

In Australia, we have the luxury of zebra crossings and pedestrian crossing lights. But what’s particularly baffling is how much faith pedestrians have that cars will stop at a zebra crossing. Blissfully unaware of the speeds of approaching vehicles, we cross with full confidence that they will come to a standstill within inches of us.

You need to be a lot more aware crossing in Mumbai than in Mullumbimby, and I guess I’m still getting used to relaxing while crossing the road.

7. Who are these angry, diseased crows?

Ah, magpies. Picture: iStock

I was introduced to the word “magpie” by an emergency room doctor after I told him I was attacked by a potentially diseased crow. I described this crow as half black and half white, with red eyes.

After he finished laughing and gathering some of his colleagues to retell the account, he assured me that it’s just a very common and incredibly inhospitable local bird. I was relieved that I hadn’t been infected by something, but that relief was short-lived as I learned about plovers soon after. Why do all the birds hate you in this country?

8. Monopoly money

Australia, if you want to be taken seriously get with the program and make all your notes a grim green and out of flimsy paper. The variety of colours combined with the polymer feel made Aussie money feel like Monopoly money for the first several weeks. Pass go and collect 200 Dollarydoos.

9. Fairy Bread

An Aussie staple. Picture: iStock

While it risks alienating a good portion of the audience, this is certainly something I feel strongly about.

Vegemite often gets the brunt of the ribbing when it comes to Aussie food, but it’s usually because of an overgenerous helping smeared on like Nutella by the uninformed. Rationed properly, vegemite is just fine. But fairy bread … fairy bread is an abomination in a league of its own.

I grew up as a kid with a sweet tooth around gulab jamuns and rasmalai, which didn’t help Fairy Bread’s cause.

But it is my firm belief that Fairy Bread should be reserved only as food for someone stumbling into civilisation after weeks of wandering a desert. Don’t punish kids with fairy bread. Give them a lamington or a Tim Tam instead.

10. Construction site safety

Seeing only three people on a construction site is a sight to behold. They are of course kitted out in PPE and operating machinery that’s plastered in warning signs, surrounded by temporary fencing that’s also plastered in warning signs.

Quite a difference from two dozen blokes wearing thongs on their feet flinging bricks to each other as they perch at different elevations of a half-built building.

This article originally appeared on Escape and was republished with permission