There's nothing like having an international visitor to give you a fresh take on the world. Of course traveling overseas has its own perspective-altering perks, but seeing your own neighborhood--and your own life-- through the eyes of a foreigner can be pretty damned invigorating. My friend Merrie, an Australian of 33 whom I haven't seen in 18 years, just left after a five day visit to my little "flat" in the San Francisco Bay Area. Among the many pursuits I adopted while she was here was a rabid determination to spot a squirrel, a species not found in Australia. When we finally saw one Merrie squealed with delight, a response rivaled only by a later skunk sighting and her vigilant watchfulness for the raccoons who wreak havoc on our garbage cans and harass our cat, Sampson. (She finally got to see one. The fact that it was road kill didn't deter her curiosity.)
Having spent a year in Melbourne, where Merrie and I became close mates, when I was 13 years old, I should have known that N. America and Australia share no native animals in common. None! Not bear or foxes or wild cats or deer. But this hit home during a Powerpoint presentation she gave to one of my husband Fred's 6th grade classes. I marveled, along with 22 eleven and twelve year-olds, at the powerful jaws of the scrappy little Tasmanian Devil, the misrepresented wild dog called the Dingo, and the fact that Koalas (not actually bears), don't drink water.
Then there was the quest for a roast-beef sandwich on rye (not native to Australia either), the revelation that 80% of an Aussie doctor's visit is immediately refunded by the government, and the discovery that school children down under are now legally required to wear sun-hats with neck flaps due to the ozone hole over Australia. By the time Merrie left the world felt a little more wonder-filled and my sense of possibility widened. I mean, watch a squirrel the next time you get a chance. They really are entertaining little creatures.
