Such Sweet Sorrow

Bagels for Katy. New Yorker. Hasn't been home in over three years and hasn't eaten any since. "Good."

At the end of every peak season, we hold a farewell party. These are garish affairs: once my co-worker threw up and then kissed me; another time I spanked my boss. It makes for a poetic symmetry to how they began their time here.

They arrive on induction day like a summer breeze, carefree with a sunny disposition. They usually haven't been to Australia before. They usually have only been here a few days before starting the job. They're ripe with questions, collecting recommendations for tourist sites and the names of local bars like stamps in their passports. There's the work mandated team bonding activity (usually a scavenger hunt), then there's the actual team bonding activity: the pub. We teach them Aussie slang words they'll need - 'piss' for beer, 'arvo' for afternoon - and pepper them with questions.

Brownies for Micky. "With walnuts. Please!"

Where are you from?

The UK. America. Vietnam. New Zealand. Ireland. The Netherlands. South Africa. India. Brazil. Uruguay. Colombia. Canada.

How long are you here for?

Six weeks. Six months.

Have you made any Australian friends?

Australians abroad are both beloved and bewared. The trouble we do make is typically obnoxious, boisterous and drunnnk. We make for fun travelling companions, whether you're spending most of it in nature or in nightclubs. I'm proud of our international reputation, but when some Germans, who had the time of their lives with a couple of Aussies in Mexico, decide to work in an Australian city, they usually don't find us as friendly, outgoing, or fun in our own backyard. What they do find is a people whose loyalty only extends to their own comfort, and a culture so prissy they wonder how it could have ever produced such laidback, open-minded people.

Qottab for Sohrab. He's from Tehran, but these walnut and almond filled pastries are from the city of Yazd, so he's never had them before. "Thanks!"

What are your first impressions of Sydney?

It's way bigger than I thought - it takes forever to get anywhere. Food here is not cheap. There are so many Asians!

"There's a girl I met at the gym, and we get on really well and we work out together when we're both there, but whenever I invite her to things, she's really flaky or will cancel at the last minute." The great irony of Australians is our commitment to not committing - it's probably the most reliably predictable thing about us. What's often interpreted as a spirit of easygoingness is in truth nothing more than snug apathy, less go-with-the-flow hippies than detritus being carried off by the currents. The trick to socialising with Australians is to find the path of least resistance - meet for drinks at a pub close to their job or home, offer to drive, get the tickets, go to their place. In fairness, it does take about thirty minutes or longer to get anywhere, twenty if you drive, but not if there's traffic, and it might take up to ten minutes to find somewhere to park, longer if you're looking for free parking. An important factor into the equation is the fact that these expats are here for such a short time that there's less of an incentive to invest in the relationship. So you need to be worth the effort, and perhaps you're not. That's the kind of callous calculus going on in our heads.

Vegan banana oatmeal cookies for Charlotte. "Oh my goodness! Can I pleeease have the recipe?!"

What's something about Australia that you think is strange?

Driving and walking on the left. The stores shut so early! The laws here are really strict.

"No, you can't drink on the street, or at a park, or on the beach. You can't smoke outside a café or restaurant. Where's the nearest dispensary? Sorry mate, weed isn't legal here. Nope, can't buy fireworks. No campfires allowed either*." Because our reputation for being so relaxed precedes us, visitors are always baffled by how prohibitive to fun-making our laws are. Australia was invaded and colonised by the British so they would have somewhere to put all their prisoners. Perhaps it's because we're a nation of convicts that there are so many rules. However, in the way of rule breakers, we're also keenly aware of what you can and can't get away with - indispensable knowledge for visitors to our land.

*Keep in mind Australia is such a dry country, the whole thing is practically a tinderbox.

Pumpkin pie for Mel. "I can't believe you're not American! Tastes just like home! It feels so weird eating this in the summer."

What have you done in Sydney so far?

I went to the Sydney Opera House. Bondi Beach. Chinatown.

What do you think of the food here?

It's delicious, but so expensive! The Mexican food here is not like real Mexican food. There's so much Asian food. I went to an Aussie barbecue and it's nothing like Brazilian barbecue - they just cooked sausages and onions!

"What is typical Australian food?" This is an embarrassing question to answer, as well as other questions relating to Aussie culture, because the fact of the matter is that it doesn't exist. That's not entirely true, but our culture (at least white Australian culture) isn't tangible - it can't be photographed or categorised into neat labels like 'cuisine', 'art', 'costume', or whatever else you can find on any other nation's tourism pamphlets. We are a proudly multicultural country, so you'll never want for cultural experiences or diverse dining. It's just that none of it comes from here. So our culture is made up of the intangible - our language, routines, pastimes, values. For instance, Australians hate people who act like they're better than everyone else. We say that they have a case of 'tall poppy syndrome', a term coming from the image of a garden of poppy flowers where one reaches higher than the rest. Put that on a post card! "Wish you were here!" Two Aussie desserts that I proudly present to visitors and think should be introduced to all humankind are lamingtons, a square of vanilla cake (sometimes filled with cream and jam) that's covered in chocolate and shredded coconut, and pavlova, a giant cake-shaped merengue that's topped with whipped cream and fruit. To me, they are our pride and joy.

Earthquake cookies for Advit. "Thanks, brother!"

Do you have any regrets? What do you wish you had known about Australia before coming here?

I would have brought some warmer clothes - I didn't think I'd need them in summer! The best places can only be reached by car. I wish I had rented somewhere closer to the city centre, or closer to a train station.

We have a very high turnover rate at my work. People just move on. I've been here for three years now. A practical veteran. It's odd having two categories of friends, long-term and short-term. For the short-term friends, there can be a certain pressure to want to make sure they have the best time possible while they are here. When a work friend comes to the end of their contract, I bake them something. A parting gift. And we hold a big farewell to send them off on a (sugar) high. Parting is such sweet sorrow.