Going home...

Here is the final installment of the Aussie odyssey. Perhaps "final" is a poor choice of words. I'm home for a week, and I return to Sydney next Saturday (10/2), so I really have a brief dream of being home. I'm making the most of it. In the mean time, here is the conclusion of the first series....

Friday,
September 23, 1999

Early Friday morning, itÕs really late Thursday night. Our bags are packed and ready to go. Now thereÕs a hint of sadness as we prepare to come home. We can forget the loneliness of missing our kids, because weÕll see them soon. We remember the remarkable experiences weÕve hadÉ

We celebrated our last night in Sydney with another dinner at EdnaÕs Table. This time we shared the Australian Degustation Menu, the six course sampler of innovative dishes using native Australian ingredients, like emu and kangaroo. (Many of you shuddered the first time these dishes were mentioned. I guess you may wish to skip this paragraph.) Truth be told, Janet declined the emu tartare, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. I would try to describe its complex flavors and textures, but we got the deluxe version of the dinner, which included several courses of Australian wines selected expressly to enhance the cuisine, and by this time we were up to the merlot (which was in itself delightful), so I only remember that it tasted good. Prepared for the extended dining experience, we took our time with the meal, chatting with the extremely friendly staff. One of the owners served our wine; the other, her brother, was the chef. We could see him working from our vantage point on a balcony overlooking their open kitchen. They learned all about the native stuff by visiting their other brother who lived with aboriginals in Western Australia. Or something like that. Our waiter was a charming woman from the San Fernando valley in Southern California who spoke with a very natural Aussie accent. However, almost everyone of the staff served us at one point or another, with someone clearing a plate, delivering a dish, or filling a glass at precisely the right moment. Our evening at EdnaÕs was a luxurious finale to our lives as Sydneysiders.

By contrast, the penultimate evening (thatÕs the night before) was equally enjoyable in a very different way. We had dinner at the home of David and Katherine Milson, who live in the northern suburbs. David was my boss at Dick Smith Electronics in Redwood City back in the 1980s. We hadnÕt spoken in fourteen or fifteen years, when DSE abruptly pulled out of the US market, and the Milsons left the country. But I found him listed in a Sydney directory, rang him up, and he invited us to dinner. We had thoroughly enjoyable evening. We took the train across the Harbour Bridge to St. LeonardÕs station in North Sydney. We met David at his office near the station; he now has a network consulting company with a staff of five; all these years and weÕre in the same business again. David closed up the shop and he drove us several miles further out of Sydney to another nice suburban neighborhood, with yards and houses larger than those IÕm used to seeing in the western suburbs on the way to Homebush Bay. As we drove a dramatic lightning display began to illuminate the sky to the southwest. David and his wife have two young sons, aged 3 and 18 months. Darling boys, we played with them a bit, and Janet read them a story. She was quite taken to hear their charming little Aussie accents. After the kids were in bed, we had a casual dinner over a couple of bottles of Australian wine. We talked of old times, new times, kids, and computers. After a refreshing evening of just the right length, David drove us to the train station, where we soon caught the train back to Sydney. All in all, I felt a wonderful sense of renewal in seeing a close acquaintance after a long absence and seeing that they had prospered. We also had more sense of being grounded in everyday Australian reality when we were in the suburbs, as compared to the urban playground we typically inhabit downtown.

Friday, 9/24/99

We woke up to room service, settled up our account, and took a cab to the airport. They let Janet join me in the Red Carpet Lounge, but they wouldnÕt let us switch seats back and forth in mid-flight. Cad that I am, I didnÕt yield my seat to my wife, but she ended up sitting next to another woman whose husband is also in business class. I visited her early in the flight and again after a four hour nap. Poor thing is miserable, and I feel terribly guilty, but she was sleeping, and I left her to continue. IÕll be flying coach on the next trip out, so IÕll have ample opportunity for penance.

ItÕs night time again as we fly eastward across the Pacific. The moonlight reflects off a layer of clouds below us. It will be Friday morning again when we land, some seven thousand miles from the aboriginal land of our adventureÉ

IÕll be returning soon to do the final end-user training just prior to the rollout of the Siebel application at Acer Australia, possibly as soon as a week from tomorrow, but the timing is uncertain now. The whole project is in turmoil as a result of the Taiwan quake. David and Ron had just flown over a few days earlier. The decision had been made (wonderfully deliberate use of the passive voice) to consolidate development in Taiwan, moving the team from Emeryville over there; then in a couple of weeks, there would be a mass movement down to Sydney. But the quake has changed all that. I will continue to work on my documentation in California next week and await further marching orders.

With my departure, only Gary Manigault, our IT expert, remains in Sydney. Ron and David are flying back down from Taiwan today, and the remainder of the team in Taiwan is returning to Emeryville. I hope David will be able to return to Portland to spend some time with Adrian and Sydney (their baby, not the city).

As I approach home, I begin to feel more centered, and the experiences of the last seven weeks begins to become real, even as they fade to dream-like memory. Or perhaps, I am waking to my real life. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to share the dream with Janet. But we are coming home with wonderful memories, pictures, and souvenirs. We are both a bit bewildered by this strange new life we have entered, and we are weighing the benefits and costs. But for now, this is our life, and I thank you all for sharing it.

CanÕt wait to see and speak with everyone!

Marc