In the name of money, and adventure funding, I have started working at a marketing research agency. While I have a degree that would almost allow me to design the studies, I am but a cold calling survey giving annoyance. I call people from all over Australia, interrupt their dinners or children's bath times, and ask them if they would like to talk about their newspaper readership, their opinions of local roads, use of LPG gas, and most fun of all their incomes before tax.... But really I can't imagine doing this anywhere else. I have really only been yelled at once and am most often greeted with a "sorry darling" or "not right now sweetheart" (which is the best when I know im calling farmers in the outback). And a surprising number of people actually do want to talk to me, especially when I inform them it is in the name of research. Most often they want to play the guessing game of where I'm from. The winning guesses have been Canadian and Irish (?). I have come across some pretty interesting, silly and just plain illogical people....
For example:
This gentlemen displayed an extreme passion for roads
"I will stand at parliament if they decide to privatize the roads system!"
"Very well, and lastly can I just ask you how old you are?"
"I'll be 80 on Sunday"
or
"Why aren't people reasonable! It's not the roads but that there are so many cars on the road and people driving alone. We need to get back to the metro projects"
10 min later
"And how often are you a passenger on a bus?"
"Oh never! I never use public transports!"
and sometimes angry
"I'm busy at the moment but what's your number and I'll ring you back?"
"No worries just let me know what time is most convienent and I'll give you a call then"
"THAT'S RIGHT YOU DON'T WANT PEOPLE CALLING YOU AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT AND ANNOYING YOU EITHER"
Sometimes you just gotta hang up and move on.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
playing in the land down under
Wow it has been awhile since I have even thought about writing on here but now that I am settled in Perth, and have an inexpensive internet connection, I think it is time to start sharing stories about our adventures in Australia. The whole tale seems overwhelming to tell all at once so I'll go little by little.
The first couple of days in Sydney were a whirlwind. We were disoriented from the huge time change and painfully long flight, but excited to explore the famous city. We walked and walked and walked all day until the only thing left was to crash into bed at the hostel. Oh the hostel. While Sydney was our first taste of Australia, the Jolly Swagman was our first taste of hostel life. Located in the King's Cross (which any guidebook will tell you is the center of Sydney's backpacker culture, full of cheap accommodations, camper vans for sale, lively bars and seedy gentleman's clubs), the Swagman was a culture shock of its own. The first night of our delirious jet lagged sleep was disturbed when a french man started banging on our door trying to get the attention of our German roommate. At 4am. Late night shenanigans seemed to be the norm and we soon were accustomed to hearing all the international folks coming in late as the pubs closed. We even joined sometimes.
The opera house and harbour bridge were as picture perfect as one would imagine. Both sights hit you in the face with the fact that you were in fact ACTUALLY in Australia. One afternoon, we ventured to the Sydney Aquarium and wildlife park and were introduced to all the sneaky, venomous things that could kill you. One of the sections was actually called "The Venom Zone". Sort of terrifying. Luckily though most Australians seem to still be alive and not suffering from constant spider or snake bites, so I try not to think about it. The trip to the wildlife park ended with kangaroos and koalas which almost made up for all the venom.
The first couple of days in Sydney were a whirlwind. We were disoriented from the huge time change and painfully long flight, but excited to explore the famous city. We walked and walked and walked all day until the only thing left was to crash into bed at the hostel. Oh the hostel. While Sydney was our first taste of Australia, the Jolly Swagman was our first taste of hostel life. Located in the King's Cross (which any guidebook will tell you is the center of Sydney's backpacker culture, full of cheap accommodations, camper vans for sale, lively bars and seedy gentleman's clubs), the Swagman was a culture shock of its own. The first night of our delirious jet lagged sleep was disturbed when a french man started banging on our door trying to get the attention of our German roommate. At 4am. Late night shenanigans seemed to be the norm and we soon were accustomed to hearing all the international folks coming in late as the pubs closed. We even joined sometimes.
The opera house and harbour bridge were as picture perfect as one would imagine. Both sights hit you in the face with the fact that you were in fact ACTUALLY in Australia. One afternoon, we ventured to the Sydney Aquarium and wildlife park and were introduced to all the sneaky, venomous things that could kill you. One of the sections was actually called "The Venom Zone". Sort of terrifying. Luckily though most Australians seem to still be alive and not suffering from constant spider or snake bites, so I try not to think about it. The trip to the wildlife park ended with kangaroos and koalas which almost made up for all the venom.
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