White trash exists even in Australia

I know, I know. Not the most PC title of a blog, however, I suppose the idea that “trash” exists everywhere in the world unites us all in a sense. No?? Is that a stretch?? Well regardless the title is true. White trash exists even in Australia. My idea of white trash used to be a Jerry Springer episode of an incestuous family from Louisiana beating each other up on screen for everyone who watches syndicated tv to watch. But this universal “trashy-ness” is now a concept that I know runs deep into the cosmos.

Let me remind you, I am a girl from NH, not exactly the most diverse state in the union. I went to Ithaca College in upstate NY, not exactly a place that breeds varied cultures. I lived in Hoboken NJ which is now Mr. and Mrs. White Bred USA. Being from these, I’ll admit, lucky, borderline upper-crust areas, “trash” seems to stick out like a sore thumb. I have seen this “trash” throughout my days, and once again I witnessed it on my 24 hour train ride from Darwin to Alice Springs.

CAUTION: this blog may be a bit mean spirited. So forget the image of the perfect daisy picking Sarah I know you all have in your minds, and replace it with Lucifer- Sarah for just this one entry, then you can all go back to your image of the true heavenly Sarah. Deal? Deal.

I get on the train at about half past nine in the morning, and after I find my seat and settle in I see a family of 5 saunter on. Two girls, one very over-weight with a baby in her arms, and one who looks like she rolled around in a pile of grease and then decided to eat the grease. AKA- also very overweight and really dirty. (In fact I’m not sure any of them had showered in a good week.) Behind them was a man, (clearly the dad, and granddad) and a teenage boy. With my luck they sit down directly next to me and in front of me. Once I got a good look at the baby, my initial reaction was: WOAH!!! That is one UGLY baby. (I know, I know I’m going to hell). To me babies are usually precious and idyllic but not this one.

We made a stop at a town called Katherine for 4 hours. There isn’t really anything to do in Katherine, so I decided to stay on the train and read, and watch a flick on my computer. The Grandfather also stayed on the train with the baby while his three kids went on a 4 hour meander though Katherine. As the angelic girl I really am, (just not in this entry) I decide to say hello. Who knew saying hello would open up such a can of worms?? Some people just need to vent even if it is to a perfect stranger who frankly doesn’t want to listen. Lucky me I got to be that un-wanting stranger. He told me that overweight daughter number one is the mother who is 15 years old. Her mother skipped out on her and the family when she was 3 and since then daughter number 1 was never the same. She left home at 12, got into “dope, and then that turned into needles and whatever else” to quote the dad. “She then started having sex, and now here is Phoebe.” Apparently he has never even met the father. Whoa dude!! I just wanted to be polite and say hello. He went on and on and on, and I just sat and listened because it really seemed as though he just needed to vent to anyone who would listen. His other two kids 17 and 13 as I came to find out were all pretty fucked up in their own ways. I actually felt really bad for this guy. By the way, this girl DID NOT look 15. 18 maybe 19, but NOT 15. I have always looked young for my age, but I’m pretty sure at 14 & 15 I still had no need for a bra, had baby teeth, and thought boys had cooties.

I couldn’t help but observe the family dynamics for the remainder of the trip. Daughter #1 really didn’t do shit for the one month old baby. The grandfather took care of her almost the entire time. I fell asleep to him holding her, and woke up to him holding her in the morning while the mother slept on a seat all to herself stretch marks out for the world to see. What can one expect from a 15 year old though?? I think I only learned to tie my own shoes at 13, and stopped having my parents cut up my food for me at 16. Having a baby at 15 wasn’t even a possibility. Truly sad.

Anyhow- I got off the train at Alice Springs 24 hours later counting my lucky stars that my mom didn’t run off on me when I was 3, and wondering how this 15 year old could ever care for a baby. However my last thought as I got off the train, was “I really hope this baby grows out of her ugly stage”. Eek.