Been to Scotland and really enjoyed the haggis.  Although one canny tour guide 
said haggis was round like a football, that once you had eaten it you wished 
you had kicked it!




From: hahs_63-68-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:hahs_63-68-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] 
On Behalf Of Tony Souter
Sent: Sunday, 18 March 2012 4:26 PM
To: hahs_63-68@xxxxxxxxxxxxx


Hi Geoff,


Next time you're in old bonny Scotland, you could try eating haggis for a month.


Let's see how rooted you are then.





On 18/03/2012, at 4:17 PM, Geoff Goodfellow wrote:

Bonjour, Salut  gentlemen


Max I suspect anyone who has travelled in any country (including France.... 
particularly France) for more than three weeks will agree that there comes a 
time to try another form of cuisine other than the local stuff. 


I recall eating full English breakfasts every bloody day for a month in B @ Bs 
through England, Scotland and Wales and it took me a long time to face bacon, 
eggs, sausages, baked beans and fried bread again.  Same as France.  You eat 
too many of their butter soaked saucy, garlic ridden dishes day after day and 
you would probably have clogged arteries in a fortnight.  In Germany after 3 
weeks you'd pay anything for a big plate of fresh vegetables - every German 
meal is laced with huge lashings of meat, but very few veggies - lovely tucker, 
but there comes a time when enough is enough. 


So yes I agree, when in France certainly eat French food (I will - let's face 
it I ate reindeer and Elk every day for a couple of weeks in Finland), but if, 
after a couple of weeks, I spot some other more interesting tucker, 
particularly something healthy and light like a Vietnamese vegetable dish, 
bugger the Frogs, I'm up for a change in diet.  I will probably force myself to 
stick to French red wine though and forgo the temptation to try too much 
Vietnamese plonk on the streets of Paris.


Peter, I agree with Max - that was a really thoughtful yarn.  My roots are in 
Scotland, and even though it was two generations ago, bagpipes still always 
manage to stir something in my soul.  When at the council I re-wrote the 
citizenship pledges to get rid of all the jingoistic crap and encourage new 
citizens to embrace what is good about Australia, but to not ever forget their 
own country and what was good about it.  Mind you it would have been telling 
them how to suck eggs, because nobody every forgets where ther grew up, but it 
needed to be said. Actually Richard you put it more eloquently when you 
suggested welcoming new citizens to Oz was like welcoming your wife into the 
lounge room.  When people say Australia is a melting-pot of different cultures 
I prefer to think of it as a smorgasbord of cultures, where you get to sample 
individual bits rather than a khaki mixed-up soup of a thing, but that's also a 
bit corny too isn't it?


Come to think of it Richard, if you are letting your good wife roam about in 
the loungeroom perhaps you've made the chain from the kitchen and the bedroom a 
tad too long. 


Now that should elicit a response from someone.


À bientȏt.



----- Original Message -----

From: Max Cochrane <mailto:maxcochrane@xxxxxxxxxxx> 

To: hahs_63-68@xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sent: Sunday, March 18, 2012 1:35 PM

Subject: [hahs_63-68] Re: second generation Orstralians



I am pleased to have read your email. Thankyou for the contribution. It always 
pleases me to interact with people from other places who have immersed 
themselves and embraced Australia as home.  Noone should forget their roots 
unless they choose to. 

Some of the people I come across in business and pleasure are now second and 
third generation living here and it is so good to call them Australians when 
they accept this as home. Some of the nicest people one could meet. 

What I find hard to tolerate is people who move here and want to make it a 
suburb of another country, and often want to cause problems, and sometimes 
recreate some of the issues they left behind. There is room for everyone who 
wants to live here provided they accept the way of life. 

I am still wondering why anyone would want to go to a Vietnamese restaurtant in 
France?  You can do that here, or in Vietnam.   

Best ,



From: peterbarda@xxxxxxxxxxx
To: hahs_63-68@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [hahs_63-68] Re: second generation Orstralians
Date: Sun, 18 Mar 2012 13:18:44 +1100

Richard and others


I'm an accidental Australian. My parents spent 3 years in various displaced 
persons camps in Germany after WW 2.

In 1948 they could choose between a few countries that were taking  refugees, 
Australia amongst them. They couldn't agree on where to settle.

Eventually they agreed that Australia would be the honeymoon (Dad wanted to get 
as far away from Europe as possible), and then after a few years they'd move to 
Canada (Mum's choice).

One of the great lies/unfulfilled promises - Mum never got further than 
Melbourne in the 54  years she lived here.


So, English became my second language, and I salute the Australian flag.

Language could just as well have been German, Swedish, Spanish (Argentina was 
an option in 1948), and I might have marched in Vietnam moratorium demos in the 
USA rather than down Broadway and George Street from Sydney Uni.


I have more family in Latvia than here. My father had been married before the 
war to another woman,  something he and Mum chose not to tell us.

We did not know that until I was close to 20, when someone who had known Dad 
before the war asked my sister after Dad's first wife and 3 kids.

The Russians got between the family in Latvia and Dad in Germany.


My first trip to Latvia was in 1999, when I met the extended family (half 
brother, half sisters and their progeny) and Dad's first wife.

She was an agronomist, as my father had been.


Long story to make a couple of observations.

From my earliest memories we spoke Latvian at home, and understood that the 
language was the culture carrier. Once it stopped being used, our Latvianness 
would disappear too.

My 2 sons speak no Latvian and have no interest in the place - although they 
have finally made time in their busy schedules (!) to visit Latvia with me this 

So, no language, no culture, no interest.


My blood is Latvian, and even though I have been there only twice, I feel a 
considerable sense of connection.

There's a cemetery in the small town my father and his forebears lived in, with 
ancestors buried back to 1753.

No less powerful a link than (I guess) our aborigines' sense of connection to 


For the first 2 or 3 days of my first trip to Latvia I found myself translating 
Latvian to English before framing a response.

After that, the translation thing stopped and it was as if there was only one 
language - I found myself thinking in Latvian.


At the risk of courting a rebuke from Stu Cardwell about the perils of 
xenophobia, you can't deny the claim of blood or language.

(In my view!)




Peter Barda


755 Sandy Creek Road

Quorrobolong   NSW  2325

T: +61 (2) 4998 6251  F: +61 (2) 4998 6154  M: 0418 438 550  E: 
peterbarda@xxxxxxxxxxx <mailto:peter@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> 



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