Post by braided-rug on Jan 27, 2006 10:38:35 GMT 10
"Seachange. Contrary to popular usage, the expression actually means permanent, irreversible change made by the sea. It comes from Shakespeare's The Tempest when Ariel sings: Full fathom five thy father lies;/Of his bones are coral made;/Those are pearls that were his eyes:/Nothing of him that doth fade/But doth suffer a sea-change/Into something rich and strange.
Ariel is playing on Ferdinand's fear that his father has drowned in the shipwreck and that his body is being permanently changed by the sea. "Rich and strange" is a creative way to put it because, let's face it, if he had drowned there would soon be nothing left.
The popular use of seachange is quite different, particularly in Australia, thanks to the ABC series. It now has almost entirely positive connotations of a change to a better life, usually out of the city.
Why this little etymological excursion? Well, because we have just done it. Seachanged. We have joined the small band of urban professionals who decide to quit the city for the quiet rolling hills and peaceful country life. The problem is, every time I look out over those beautiful green hills, I get a rising sense of panic and think, "My God, what have wedone?" I am worried that this might be the Shakespearean, bone-rotting seachange, rather than the warm and fuzzy seachange of Laura Gibson.
Apparently, I am not alone in this feeling. Research in the United States indicates that 50 per cent of people who opt out of the city opt back in within five years; 20 per cent within a year. They tend to know little about the communities they are moving into (that sounds familiar) and discover that there are too many things about the city that they miss.
As we have been here for only a month, I probably should wait before jumping to such extreme conclusions. There is certainly a lot to recommend the place, in addition to the rolling green hills.
It isn't very far from the city, for example. Rather than opting for a real seachange and becoming part of what Bernard Salt has called the third Australian culture - those who live neither in the bush or capitals, but on the coast - we have opted for "country change". A subset of sea changers, country changers join rural communities within "commuting" distance of the city. I say "commuting", because a real estate agent's easy hour or two drive means leaving for work at 6am and coming home at 8 or 9pm. The children are having trouble recognising their father and I am sure the school thinks he is a figment of my imagination.
That, of course, will change when he starts workingpart-time. As I was saying, there are advantages to country change and being able to both work part-time is one of them. As an anecdotal follow-up to my column on the impossibility of finding part-time work as a lawyer, I have discovered that, in rural areas, where professionals are in shorter supply, it is markedly easier. I had the unprecedented experience of having some bargaining power in job interviews.
Life for the children is gorgeous. They have vast amounts of play space and wallabies to greet every morning. They have moved from a huge city school of 570 children to a tiny country school of 25. There are only 12 children in their class, a luxury we would not be able to secure them in even the most elite private school.
Rural schooling policies seem to ensure that the school is well resourced. Although there are not as many friends - my middle child makes up the entire preparatory year - they have friends of all ages. Both school-age children were delighted to play with a big girl of 10. Research on children's extra-curricular activities suggests that, as children growing up in the country, they will participate in sport at a higher rate than they would have had we stayed in the city. They will certainly have opportunities to ride horses, bushwalk and explore that would otherwise have been impossible.
For me, the advantages are harder to pinpoint. I have a nice view while drinking my tea and more rose-growing space than I could ever use. My rabbits are happy, not that I can admit to the neighbours that I keep fluffy ferals as pets. I take comfort in two pieces of research. The first suggests that sea changers who persevere in their Arcadian idyll become happier with each passing year. The second predicts a rise in demand for country property, when hordes of retiring baby-boomers start scouring the rural fringes for homes to facilitate their own seachange. They might be welcome to mine.
Cathy Sherry is a lawyerand freelance writer."
From: www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/07/26/1059084258656.html
Ariel is playing on Ferdinand's fear that his father has drowned in the shipwreck and that his body is being permanently changed by the sea. "Rich and strange" is a creative way to put it because, let's face it, if he had drowned there would soon be nothing left.
The popular use of seachange is quite different, particularly in Australia, thanks to the ABC series. It now has almost entirely positive connotations of a change to a better life, usually out of the city.
Why this little etymological excursion? Well, because we have just done it. Seachanged. We have joined the small band of urban professionals who decide to quit the city for the quiet rolling hills and peaceful country life. The problem is, every time I look out over those beautiful green hills, I get a rising sense of panic and think, "My God, what have wedone?" I am worried that this might be the Shakespearean, bone-rotting seachange, rather than the warm and fuzzy seachange of Laura Gibson.
Apparently, I am not alone in this feeling. Research in the United States indicates that 50 per cent of people who opt out of the city opt back in within five years; 20 per cent within a year. They tend to know little about the communities they are moving into (that sounds familiar) and discover that there are too many things about the city that they miss.
As we have been here for only a month, I probably should wait before jumping to such extreme conclusions. There is certainly a lot to recommend the place, in addition to the rolling green hills.
It isn't very far from the city, for example. Rather than opting for a real seachange and becoming part of what Bernard Salt has called the third Australian culture - those who live neither in the bush or capitals, but on the coast - we have opted for "country change". A subset of sea changers, country changers join rural communities within "commuting" distance of the city. I say "commuting", because a real estate agent's easy hour or two drive means leaving for work at 6am and coming home at 8 or 9pm. The children are having trouble recognising their father and I am sure the school thinks he is a figment of my imagination.
That, of course, will change when he starts workingpart-time. As I was saying, there are advantages to country change and being able to both work part-time is one of them. As an anecdotal follow-up to my column on the impossibility of finding part-time work as a lawyer, I have discovered that, in rural areas, where professionals are in shorter supply, it is markedly easier. I had the unprecedented experience of having some bargaining power in job interviews.
Life for the children is gorgeous. They have vast amounts of play space and wallabies to greet every morning. They have moved from a huge city school of 570 children to a tiny country school of 25. There are only 12 children in their class, a luxury we would not be able to secure them in even the most elite private school.
Rural schooling policies seem to ensure that the school is well resourced. Although there are not as many friends - my middle child makes up the entire preparatory year - they have friends of all ages. Both school-age children were delighted to play with a big girl of 10. Research on children's extra-curricular activities suggests that, as children growing up in the country, they will participate in sport at a higher rate than they would have had we stayed in the city. They will certainly have opportunities to ride horses, bushwalk and explore that would otherwise have been impossible.
For me, the advantages are harder to pinpoint. I have a nice view while drinking my tea and more rose-growing space than I could ever use. My rabbits are happy, not that I can admit to the neighbours that I keep fluffy ferals as pets. I take comfort in two pieces of research. The first suggests that sea changers who persevere in their Arcadian idyll become happier with each passing year. The second predicts a rise in demand for country property, when hordes of retiring baby-boomers start scouring the rural fringes for homes to facilitate their own seachange. They might be welcome to mine.
Cathy Sherry is a lawyerand freelance writer."
From: www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/07/26/1059084258656.html
