The Dark Trunk

In the earliest stages of our research involving relocation to Australia, I was warned of rampant and pervasive sexism, evidenced by an anecdote in which the narrator's wife was treated poorly by a mechanic who condescendingly insisted on speaking with her husband regarding all matters automotive. I have encountered occasional comments about feminine frailty, mostly from crusty old bartenders or tradesmen and usually suggesting that I have an inherent inability to manage my own finances due to a weakness for shopping. These are easily dismissed with a wink and a confession regarding the performance of my stock portfolio.

However, for the most part, I find that Australian men are fiercely proud of successful, strong willed women and quite supportive of their accomplishments, particularly in the sporting arena, but also in science and politics. Not that I care much for the opinions of think tanks, but the World Economic Forum recently ranked Australia 20th in gender equality (with Iceland in the number one spot, prompting one to seriously ponder the phrase “relative to opportunity”.)

Despite the global ranking, I count myself very fortunate to have found an excellent auto mechanic. He is not condescending in the least, and seems to value my assessment of what might be wrong when I bring my little beater in for diagnosis of her frequent and mysterious ailments. Yesterday, he let me help him track down an electrical malfunction, called me savvy, and gave me a detailed explanation on the subtleties of proper alternator function. I actually had quite a bit of fun, playing with the circuit tester and locating various fuses and switches throughout the car.

Then he charged me $88 to remove the light bulb from my boot.