Last month was my second anniversary of living in Melbourne. The time has flown by. I can honestly say we are very happy here.
What I love the most is this three word phrase that everyone keeps saying to me: You’re alright.
It sounds like one word: Yalright.
Having lived in London for 15 years previously I tend to say Sorry. All the time. If I’m late. If I’m flustered. If I’m in the way. If I exist.
But the response here is so life affirming that it’s like being dipped in cool velvety water.
If I bump into someone. “Sorry,” I murmur.
“You’re alright,” says the large man with the shaved head and anarchy tattoo across his neck.
If I can’t get my change out from my purse fast enough. “Oh so sorry…” I implore.
“You’re alright,” says the impossibly young and chirpy supermarket check out girl.
If I’m made a mistake. “I’m so so sorry….” I blurt.
“Y’alright,” says the seen-it-all lady at the Driver’s License Bureau.
It’s….bliss. And each time some one says it I perk up. I pat myself down and think Yeah, I am alright. I actually am.
It’s good to be reminded.
Which is why I love this country.
I’m sorry I am in your space.
I love you.
photo by yasa_ (flickr)