From Denmark to Australia: lost in translation

As most of you know, I was born in Denmark, moving to the land Down Under when I was five years old.

But it wasn't until I turned 18 that I was naturalised. And I did it at the time to make the university application process easier.

Before that, I stubbornly refused to go through that final step of becoming a true-blue Aussie because I didn't want to lose my Danish heritage.

I was very young when my parents said goodbye to everything they had known, moving halfway across the world to a country that couldn't have been more different to my birthplace.

We left in the deep of winter, the snow still falling as we took off before arriving to a sweltering Australian summer 30 hours later.

It was a huge culture shock. Not only the vast differences in geography but the obvious communication challenges.

My younger sister Signe and I didn't speak a word of English, so television, in particular Sesame Street, helped bridge the language barrier. Although we did sound American for that first year.

However, there is only so much books, television and even school can teach you about the Australian language, because it has a slang all of its own.

The thing with Aussies is they tend to speak very quickly and shorten almost every word you can think of. For example, we might have avo on toast for brekky and a barbie in the arvo while drinking a coldie bought from the bottle-o.

We've even managed to cheapen the sound of our award-winning wines, calling our Cabernet Savingnon ‘cab sav’ or Chardonnay a very classy ‘chardy'.

Even people's names are too long for Aussies to pronounce, so they've shortened them, or added a y or a za to the end of it. Therefore Tanya becomes Tan, Elizabeth becomes Lizzy, and Barry, Terry and Darren become Bazza, Tezza and Dazza.

And if you're an outsider speaking to an Aussie for the first time, you may wonder what: “Gdaymatehowyagoin” or “noworriesmateshellberight means.

To make matters even more confusing, each state has their own dialect.

In Queensland, we put on our togs to go for a swim and quench our thirst with a Poppa.

In South Australia, they swim in bathers while drinking a juice box.

And then there are countless other idioms and expressions that should never be taken literally.

Like what happened with my parents when we first arrived in Mount Isa in 1983.

Upon being introduced to some new people, they were invited to a ‘barbie’ (which of course needed explaining).

Mum was told to bring a plate. She thought that was odd but figured maybe they didn't have enough to go round. So she brought one. An empty plate that is.

Another time, Mum was saying goodbye to a woman she had just met and after being told ‘See ya later’, Mum raced home to clean the house, anticipating the woman's arrival in the next few hours.

These lost-in-translation scenarios were quite common in the first few years of coming to Australia.

As you can imagine, Mum and Dad were a hit in their new community, who found them most hysterical.

But in true Aussie spirit, Mum and Dad never felt out of place or laughed at.

Australians have this remarkable quality of not taking themselves too seriously.

It's this ability to laugh at yourself and not take offence - this ‘no worries’ attitude - that my parents, my sisters and I have come to know and love.

And that is how I have lived my life.

We were welcomed into this multicultural country with open arms and friendly ‘poke fun at yourself’ humour and that's the Australia I have come to know and love.

While I might have been born in Denmark, I am proud to call Australia home.