Swedish class was quite good fun tonight, especially as this week’s homework is a challenge right up my alley: I need to conduct an interview in Swedish with a Swedish person in Sydney.
I’m going to interview a colleague about her life in Australia, her Australian-Swedishness etc.
Overall, it’s a challenge I’m looking forward to, and much more fun than inserting an adverb!
And of course the other bit of regular homework I do is listen to Swedish pop songs. Well, I consider it homework. And I’m reasonably sure it’s helped a lot with both pronunciation and vocabulary!
Amongst the many things I did after arriving home from class was put together a new page of my favourite music for this website which includes, amongst many other things, quite a few video clips of Swedish songs.
If you ever wanted to understand the language similarities (and differences) between Swedish and English, have a look at the video clip of “Dom andra” by Kent on this page, where the Swedish lyrics and an English translation are shown on the screen together. Perhaps the only line you might put a question mark over is the one where they sing about being an alien, and eating too much sugar and vomiting, and becoming a “four ton martyr”.
The other cross-cultural comparison are the two clips of the song, Sa lang vi har varran, which Frida from ABBA recorded with Swedish band, Ratata. And although there’s both a Swedish version and an English version of both songs on this page, I think Frida recorded it more for fun than anything. Though perhaps in the back of their minds was the idea Ratata might have had some international potential in the days of Wham, Tears for Fears, and all those other “two blokes with synthesiser” bands in the period when that was all the rage. It’s an interesting cultural document in lots of way.
Frida from ABBA sings with Swedish group, Ratata back in the late 1980s. Note the difference between the Swedish and English version video clips where one of the blokes in the band is absent for much of the Swedish language version of the clip.
But for me the most interesting thing is that, having seen both clips many times over many years, is that you realise although very similar, they’re also quite different. In particular, the near absence of “the other bloke” in the band, Johan Ekelund from the Swedish clip. I’d just never noticed this before. But when you play both clips at the same time, you just notice Johan is just not there all that much in the English clip.
The English version has pretty much disappeared into history, as all of the subsequent releases have been produced in Scandinavia where there’s more interest in the Swedish language version. I also think this version has a little more “authenticity” if you listen to the way in which it’s sung.
Both clips are completely “80’s power pop” in style, with shoulder pads, though thankfully, they’ve held back on the big hair. And Frida, in particular, looks pretty fab. She would have been 41 or 42 years old at the time of recording.
I like both versions, by the way, and think it’s a good song in either language.
“I didn’t understand a word she said”, the bloke opposite me at the airport laughed last night. “And I’m Chinese”, he said, in response to the woman on the public address system at Hong Kong telling us it was time to board our flight. As I looked around the room during this announcement people were either in stitches laughing, as we were, or looking completely bewildered by the announcement. Her English wasn’t good, let’s just put it that way. “Thank god I can understand the Chinese version”, my airport friend commented.
I had a similar smile from a bloke sitting nearby when I got on the plane. At about the same time we had both noticed how strong the air condition was on the flight. You could literally see the fog (or whatever it is) coming out of the air conditioner as we boarded. I thought for a moment they might have been acclamitising us for a flight to Antarctica, not Sydney.
It was the first time I’ve flown Qantas long-haul (well aside from the Sydney-Perth trip) and I was reasonably impressed. The meals were good. The inflight entertainment was excellent. And I had plenty of room, with a vacant seat next to me.
Even though the woman in front of me also had a vacant seat next to her, that didn’t stop her from putting her seat back to within a couple of inches of my face as soon as the seat-belt light went off. The two women sitting next to me in the four-seat configuration and I looked at each other in disbelief. “How rude”, I thought to myself, that she just plumped the seat back to its maximum recline.
In my less assertive days I would have just sat there and complained. But with a new found confidence, I actually leaned forward and politely asked her if she could keep the seat upright until after the meal. She was shocked, and completely at a loss for words when I asked her, and didn’t actually respond. She did, however, put her seat up. “All you’ve got to do is politely ask”, I thought to myself, having achieved my goal with dignity.
For whatever reason I hardly slept. Partly I put it down to excitement at the return journey. Partly I put it down to the great inflight entertainment system they had on board.
Coming back through the airport was painless enough, though I did have to wait for quite some time for my luggage to arrive. While waiting I started chatting in a friendly kinda way to a bloke next to me. “I’ve just been to Belarus”, he told me, “to meet a woman I found on the internet”. At that point, I think I’d already recognised it was a conversation I didn’t really want to have, though I was kinda curious. He then told me it had been a bit of a disaster because she spoke virtually no English. He was upbeat, however, since he’d met another woman while visiting there.
On arriving home I’ve made a few phone calls, have slept a fair deal and I’ve watched a bit of television.
“Do you mind if we call in to Myer? A girlfriend told me about some great new mascara and lipstick from Clarins”, my friend asked as we made our way through the city this afternoon.
As I stood and watched, I listened to the conversation between the two women. “It doesn’t run and all you need to do is rinse with warm water…” the assistant told my friend. “What about tears? They’re warm water, aren’t they?”, I interjected. The looks on the faces of both my friend and the shop assistant clearly told me I was out of my depth in this conversation.
It was then I looked down and saw cotton buds, presumably used in the application and or removal of makeup. “I could really clean my ears out with those”, I thought to myself. It was then I realised the difference between men and women.
Today, I had the opportunity to share my experiences over the past year on 774 ABC Radio Melbourne (and Regional Victoria) with Kirsten Diprose. We discussed the evolution of prosthetic technology as part of a broader, hour-long conversation that also featured other guests. You can listen to the full broadcast [here].
Here’s a transcript from the program which has been “tidied up” for spelling, brevity, clarity etc using Google Gemini (AI), and I haven’t really checked it, so there may be some errors.
Kirsten: On the ABC Listen app, your smart speaker and on AM radio. This is the Conversation Hour on ABC Radio Melbourne and Victoria. Let’s bring James O’Brien into the conversation. Peter Hawkins is still with us. But James, you’re actually from the ABC yourself, your radio planning manager based in Sydney. Welcome to the program.
James: Thank you.
Kirsten: Now, I suppose your story and experience is quite different from Peter because you’re, I suppose, someone who has recently only needed a prosthetic.
James: That’s right. Like Peter, I’m 58 years of age, but I’ve only had a prosthetic limb now on my right leg, the lower right leg for about 12 months. I was travelling overseas with some friends. I got a cut foot on a beach somewhere, came back. It all went terribly wrong. Some diabetes contributed to it as well. And I woke up out of a coma with part of my leg removed.
Kirsten: You’ve just skipped over that like, you know, it was going down to the shops and buying some milk.
James: Look, honestly, my niece was with me when I came out of the coma and she said, look, Jim, I’ve got something to tell you. It’s really upsetting, blah, blah, blah. And I was just pleased to be alive, to be honest. And early in the piece, I received a phone call from an organisation called Limbs for Life, which is actually based in Melbourne, which is a peer support organisation of people who are also amputees or using prosthetics. And look, that phone call from a guy called Clay made a huge difference to my attitude. He had a very similar circumstance to mine. And apparently, it is pretty common for lots of blokes of a certain age not to look after their health and to find themselves in this sort of position. So having that sort of peer support very early in the piece just made me feel good about it all.
Kirsten: That’s fantastic to hear that there’s such a proactive group that so obviously the hospital must connect you with Limbs for Life.
James: Yeah, the hospital that I was in connected me with Limbs for Life and they’re a national organisation. They’re all over the countryside, actually based in Melbourne, set up, I think, by a woman called Melissa Noonan initially. And, you know, it’s there’s a Facebook group and we share stories and anecdotes and there’s really nothing quite like to actually talk to someone else in a very similar position. There’s a woman I work with here at the ABC, Liz Wright. Liz is a Paralympic swimmer. And when I was in hospital, she reached out to me, medal-winning, I should emphasise too. She reached out to me, said, Hi, James, you know, I work at the ABC, blah, blah, blah. I’ve seen what you’ve gone through. And she was actually born with different length limbs, but she still wears prosthetics. And again, just having that sort of peer support or someone you could, you know, you could have these very short conversations and know exactly what’s going through. So, for example, I still get a bit tired and I said, I get tired. She goes, yeah, I get tired too. And it’s because we’re doing a lot more exercise and there’s more strain and those sort of things. And I’m not sure, Peter, if it’s still fatigue is an issue for you still after even though it’s almost 60 years for you.
Peter: Not really. But then I don’t remember what it was like before. So I’ve got very little to compare it to. But not really. I think it’s just, you know, just wait another 50 years and you’ll be fine.
Kirsten: So, James, what sort of prosthetic do you have?
James: Well, actually, I’ve still got my interim. It’s called the interim leg and the federal government funds each of the states to provide an interim leg. So in Victoria, the program is called the Victorian, the Victorian Artificial Limb Program. And basically, they receive some money from the federal government is administered through the hospitals. And what they do is they give you an initial one to start out with because your leg will shrink over the next couple of years. And like Peter mentioned, a plaster of Paris, you know, I was I had the fitting in the hospital where they, you know, got out the plaster and wrapped a creoe paper around it and all those sorts of things. So I’ve still got the initial interim leg. Last Wednesday, I had a fitting for my NDIS funded limb and it was a bit painful in the first couple of days, didn’t quite fit. So I went back to the company who looked after me and on Wednesday and they shaved a few things off it and made it fit better. And so what will happen now is we’ll see how it goes for a couple more weeks and then they’ll probably do the final fabrication of my new limb. And I’m also hopefully getting a wet leg as well, also funded by the NDIS. So I can go to the beach.
Kirsten: What does that mean? Does that mean like a swimming leg?
James: Not so much a swimming leg, but something I can wear in the shower or something I can go to the beach at and not worry about it rusting, basically.
Kirsten: What’s the NDIS one that you’re getting fitted with? What’s it made out of?
James: Look, I don’t really know, actually. I’m not really I’m listening to Peter talking all about the technology and I don’t really know.I think it’s carbon fibre, I think. And I think the wet leg has got some titanium there, which is rust resistant. Look, I’m not really great on the technology. All I know is it’s has made a huge difference to my life because, you know, for the first few months of last year after this happened, I was still getting around in a wheelchair and hopping around. And that was really hard and really tiring. So when I actually got the limb to wear, it made a huge difference. I still had to wear, like I said, go with the wheelchair for a while and crutches for a while. But now I can pretty much walk around without any additional support aside from the limb. The only thing I had to keep an eye out for is people kind of don’t notice it. And sometimes, you know, I’ve had people sort of push me out of the way. I did actually fall over once. There was a young person who sort of didn’t see that, you know, I still had some mobility issues and actually pushed me over accidentally and then felt mortified. And then also things like getting on trams. Some people just don’t even see it. So there’ll be people sitting in the disability seats. And I have to ask, you know, can you get up, please? Because I need to sit down.
Peter: And you’re right about the people being mortified. I went to something on the weekend and a young lady didn’t notice and accidentally shoved me from behind. And I stumbled. And then she realised and she felt awful. And you think, oh, but that’s not your fault.
James: No, absolutely. And you just want to make somebody realise, well, look, you were just unfortunate. You happened to pick the wrong person. You know, don’t feel so bad about it. We’re OK. So I do get cross with people who sit there looking at their mobile phones for the entire trip in the disability seats. And I think, just look up and see if someone else needs a seat more than you.
Kirsten: Yes, that is annoying. And I mean, it’s not just disabled people, those seats are reserved for, it’s people that, you know, eight months pregnant and that sort of thing. And it’s really selfish. It’s interesting, isn’t it? I mean, James, as someone who has only recently acquired a disability, have you changed the way that you see the world or are you more cognisant of things like this?
James: Absolutely. I mean, one of the interesting things is early in the piece, too, some friends didn’t know how to cope because there was quite a significant chance I might have had brain damage. And I did find that they were speaking to me a little more slowly. And I’ve even had colleagues at work speak to me in a much slower manner. And I go, it’s actually, it’s not my brain, it’s the leg. So that’s one of the things I’ve noticed. I’m much more aware of being on public transport in particular and the needs of other people. That has made a huge difference to me. And it was so interesting at the Disability Expo a couple of months ago and I volunteered at that sort of meeting and greeting people. And I am just so, I mean, I was always pretty aware of some of the issues of people with disability. But let me tell you, I’m much more aware of them now.
Kirsten : James O’Brien, thank you so much for joining us. I understand that you are blogging now about your experience. Yeah. Where can people find your blog? I
James : Just search for James O’Brien Amputee will probably find it. It’s a WordPress blog and I’ve been writing about my experiences all the way through. And I’ve tried to be as honest as possible.
“Who would imagine you’d get so emotional about someone from 160 years ago?” Kerry O’Brien observed on tonight’s edition of “Who Do You Think You Are?” on SBS TV. The ABC-TV presenter was a little bit teary when reflecting on the plight of his ancestors. I completely understand what he was talking about, as I’ve often felt that way as I’ve researched my family history and have learned about ancestors I’ve never known.
The story that tears me up, every time, is the story of Ellen Laing. She was my great-grandmother, who was born in the small community of Towamba, not far from Eden on the NSW South Coast. Ellen had a relationship with, but never married, her first cousin, William Rixon. Willliam was born 1868 at Towamba (1868/902), the eldest son of Thomas Rixon and Jane Laing. They are documented to have had at least two children together, more likely four. Despite the relationship, on December 31, 1902, eighteen months after the birth of William Arthur (known as Barney), William Rixon married another woman, Bertha Mary Ramsay at Bombala Church of England (1047/1902). Throughout her life, Ellen continued to use the name Rixon, although her death certificate refers to her as Ellen Lang. Ellen appears to have lived a somewhat mobile lifestyle, as the electoral roles record her living in Bombala, Sydney, Lismore and Brisbane at various times. Ellen appears to have spent the last months of her life at Newintong State Hospital, which NSW State Records notes in these terms…
Although the residents of Newington Asylum were predominantly elderly, Newington and the other Government Asylums also assumed the functions of hospitals for the “ordinary pauper population” and for those with incurable conditions, or who required convalescent care, at one third of the cost to the Government compared to Hospital treatment.
Ellen died on June 16, 1950 (1950/009885) and was buried in a paupers grave in the Presbyterian section of Liverpool Cemetery. I never knew Ellen (as she died 15 years before I was born), but it’s certain to me her life experience influenced many of the decisions made my her children and grand children, and hence me.
Having worked for the ABC for many years, and having been asked on far too many occasions, “Are you related to Kerry O’Brien?”, of course I had to watch tonight’s program. The short answer to the question was always “I have no idea. It’s a pretty common name”. After watching tonight’s show, the short answer I am no confident is “No”. Even though O’Brien is an extremely common name, it would appear our ancestors come from quite distinctly different counties. Kerry’s ancestry is from County Clare on the West Coast, whereas my O’Brien ancestry is from County Meath, not far from Dublin. His ancestors arrived about ten years earlier than mine. They appear to have been fairly poor, whereas my appear to have been reasonably wealthy. His ancestors settled in Queensland. Although mine had intended to settle on the Darling Downs, they ended up on the NSW South Coast.
But there is a Queensland connection. Patrick O’Brien, the son of James O’Brien and Mary Smith who came to Australia in 1864, moved to Queensland and had a career as a horse trainer in the area around Woodford, north of Brisbane. There was also a connection in that both Kerry and I have ancestors who were on the Berry Estate in the Shoalhaven. But aside from that, there’s no apparent connection.
Even though we’re not related, it was a fascinating program to watch, and I felt it was especially interesting to watch Kerry, as someone who has spent his life as a journalist, bring a journalist’s eye to the primary documentation and interpretation presented on the program. In contrast to some of the other people they’ve featured who just say “wow”, Kerry’s eye was more critical, though not any less passionate.
Now, having scratched Kerry off the list of distant relatives, my attention now turns to potential cousin Joe O’Brien from ABC News 24 :)
Since my health challenges began a couple of years ago, I’ve discovered the power of short naps. Living with an amputation and diabetes, combined perhaps with getting older, means I need several naps throughout the day, and they make a world of difference.
With the amputation, I’m putting more strain on my remaining leg. I’m walking further and more intensely than before. I’ve read estimates that the workload on the remaining limb can increase by 30 to 50 percent. And with diabetes, I experience fatigue related to my diet and how my body processes food.
My first nap is usually not long after I wake up. After getting sick, I’ve gradually shifted my wake-up time earlier, now around 5:30 or 6 a.m, as I did previously. I get up, check my blood sugar, take my medication, have breakfast, and then go back to sleep for a while. I find that after this short second sleep, I wake up feeling completely rejuvenated and ready for the day. It’s truly transformative.
Sometimes I’ll have another short nap later in the morning, maybe just five or ten minutes.
Then another after lunch, and one more in the late afternoon before dinner.
These frequent naps probably indicate my body needs extra rest, or perhaps they’re related to fluctuating blood sugar levels – something I need to explore further. But I also know they significantly improve my quality of life. Just a short period of rest leaves me feeling refreshed.
Of course, I also have longer, more restorative naps, especially on weekends or days off.
I realize everyone’s experience is different, but this is my reality now: incorporating these intermittent periods of rest into my day. Beyond the physical rejuvenation, I find them mentally restorative as well. Taking a moment to close my eyes, relax, and reflect is beneficial for my mental well-being.
So, my message is this: if you feel the need for a nap, there might be underlying medical reasons to consider. But also, don’t underestimate the positive impact naps can have on your life.
Christmas Day 2008, Sydney, Australia Aside from the word “Jesus”, the skies of Sydney were remarkably clear today. Weather-wise, it was one of those really beautiful Sydney days.
And so late this afternoon I went for a bit of a walk through Surry Hills, down into the city, and then back to home.
It’s pretty quiet in Surry Hills today, with only a few convenience stores remaining open. Most of the restaurants have signs up indicating they’ll be closed from now until at least New Years Eve.
As I wandered into a convenience store on Bourke Street to buy an ice-cream, the bloke behind the counter greeted me with a smile. I suspect I may have been his only customer today.
As I headed up towards Taylor Square there were more signs of life. In addition, however, to the convenience stores, I noticed there was a sex shop open on Oxford Street which is incredibly sad whichever way you choose to look at it.
There were also a couple of homeless people sitting on the footpath with a handful of coins in front of them.
As I wandered into the city, I began to see lots of Asian people (who I presume don’t celebrate Christmas), and lots of Irish backpackers (who most definitely do celebrate Christmas) wandering around.
A restaurant here and there was open, and there were even people in a clothing store on George Street taking advantage of a cut-price sale.
Feeling a little lazy I caught the bus back home. “That’s enough energy exerted for the day”, I thought to myself.
