The Eggcup Story

Part One:

As I was gathering all my gear and packing it for at least four years in Papua New Guinea before I would have my first furlough, I got a phone call from the Director of USA Wycliffe. Wycliffe needed a secretary to temporarily fill in at the WBT office in Melbourne, Australia. What? Secretary! I'm not a secretary. I've been trained to work in the jungle in PNG. Anyway, I agreed.

Here is where this story begins, and there's nothing better than a good story to stir your soul.

Part Two:

March, 1967, I was seated in this luxurious plane, Quantas, on my way to Australia ... not New Guinea. I was traveling with Dottie James, from Peoria, IL, a Wycliffe translator who worked in Papua New Guinea with the Siane tribe and one of Wycliffe's top linguists. She was one of my linguistic teachers at the University of Oklahoma. I was so grateful to be traveling with a seasoned missionary, and besides, she was a good friend.

Everyone had a very strong Australian accent, of course. I had never met anyone from Australia ... Never! I had a hard time understanding the stewardesses with that strong, but beautiful, Australian accent, and I am sure they had trouble understanding my Midwest American accent. After several hours over the ocean, we landed in Sydney, Australia. WOW, what a beautiful city!

Aunt Margaret and Uncle Alan Barnet met us at the airport and drove us to their home. Oh, yes, another shocker was that we were driving on the left side of the road, and the steering wheel was on the right side of the car. I've only seen this in the movies. Aunt Margaret prepared us an afternoon tea. I wasn't exactly sure what that was. Well, I found out ... a cup of tea with scones on which you spread a little orange marmalade topped with whipped cream. It was really good!

I needed the bathroom and asked Aunt Margaret where it was. She pointed down the hall, I went in but did not see a toilet anywhere. This was very strange. I looked in the shower. No, there was no toilet. What on earth do these people do? I washed my hands and came out still needing to go to the bathroom. I asked Dottie, and she said you have to ask for a toilet. The toilet and bathroom are not in the same place. The bathroom is quite a distance from the place where the toilet is located. In this case, you went outside into another building. The toilet there is also referred to as the water closet or the WC. Fascinating!

It gets better. I now move on to the place where I will be staying and working in Melbourne for six months. Dottie leaves me and goes on to Papua New Guinea.

Part Three:

Ruth had prepared roasted lamb chops, meat sauce, mashed potatoes, rich gravy, peas, and bread and butter, and you always have a bread and butter plate. Our drink was water. (You go to the sitting room for your coffee and dessert after a meal.) Fork in the left hand turned upside down and the knife in the right hand, you seldom put either down until you finish your plate of food. Well, have you ever tried putting peas on a fork turned upside down?

So, I watched. You put a few peas and mashed potatoes together along with a piece of lamb, and you put them on your upside down fork, you smash them down with you knife. This was a real trick. As I raised my fork to my mouth, several peas fell into my lap. No matter how hard I tried to make it look easy like David and Ruth, it was not working for me. This was a horrifying, embarrassing, and pathetic scene. It would take me hours to eat this meal this way. I was definitely out of my comfort zone...so much for the jungle camp training. This was Australia.

Woe is me! My first meal was graceless, awkward, and outlandish ... not to mention the embarrassment. We all had a good laugh. Those Americans!

The next morning David and Ruth were going off to a meeting for the day ... early. I was taken next door to the Coombs' home to have breakfast. As I was being introduced, I knew immediately I was in the presence of two very proper, elegant, and comely people...6:30 in the morning? Mr. Coombs was a tall, handsome, and very successful business man in the sheep business. Alfred Coombs was Chairman of the Wycliffe Australia Board. I knew this day was going to be challenging and interesting before we even got started.

David and Ruth left, and there I was, this farm girl from Indiana, USA.

I was ushered into the dining room for our breakfast. Mr. Coombs properly seated me at the table. It was a beautiful table, very long with an impressive white-laced tablecloth, and of course, very attractive fine china. Mrs. Coombs sat at one end of the table and Mr. Coombs at the other end. I was in the middle, and across from me was their daughter.

In comes the butler, well-dressed with a white shirt and black bow tie and black pants with a tray on his shoulder. It was like being in the movies. On the tray were four eggcups with a soft-boiled egg in each one on small plates. Now, I have never in my entire life seen an eggcup. What on earth? I watched.

First, Mrs. Coombs picked up her knife, tapped the upper edge of the egg, lifted the top part of the egg off, and sprinkled some salt and pepper in the small opening. She took her little spoon and started eating right out of the shell. Looks simple! Mr. Coombs does the same, then the daughter, and now it was my turn.

I was very attentive to every detail of this whole procedures. It looked really simple. I picked up my knife...tap, tap, tap on the side of the egg three times...nothing. So, I tap, tap, tap, three more times. Nothing. Next I give it a whack, and the eggcup tips over. Now, egg was running out of the shell onto the lace tablecloth, and all heads were down. I was trying to scoop it back into the shell with my hand. I had egg all over my hand, and I was licking the egg off between my fingers. I got most of the egg back into the eggcup, and I ate the whole thing, eggshell and all. I licked my fingers and put the spoon down. Done.

I looked up. All was quiet, and heads were down. They looked up and stared at me in disbelief. We then all began to laugh. Then Mr. Coombs spoke, "You are the most American American we have ever had in our home." We all continued to laugh.

My six months in Australia was quite an interesting time, not only for me, but for anyone with whom I cam in contact. There were several more of these cultural goofs, but I certainly enjoyed learning more of their beautiful culture and country. I have a number of good friends in Australia. The eggcup story spread throughout Australia and even spilled over into Papua New Guinea. I only do hard-boiled eggs now, which does not require an eggcup.

Postscript:

I am planning a trip to Melbourne, Australia, in 2006 to spend a week with several of my colleagues who also worked in Papua New Guinea the same years I was there. I am sure the eggcup story will come up, even after all these years. Maybe I'll have the courage to try the eggcup one more time.

Love, Marilyn Laszlo.