Author: Abbey Little

Location: Newcastle, Australia

I have reflected before on the fact that being abroad requires sacrifices—missing people and celebrations/holidays.  Yet part the glory of being abroad includes the opportunity to experience foreign holidays.  April 25th is a public holiday in Australia, known as ANZAC Day—the equivalent in America would be Veteran’s Day.  ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. There is a celebration  to honor when Australian and New Zealand soldiers formed part of the allied expedition that set out to capture the Gallipoli peninsula on April 25, 1915. On this day, a dawn service is held beginning at 5 am.  In Newcastle, this takes place just across from the iconic Nobby’s Beach.  This is also the only day of the year that a gambling game called “2UP” is legal in Australia.  Many pubs host events for the game.  

A group of my fellow CIS Abroad friends and I decided that we would take the experience of ANZAC Day and its dawn service to the next level by venturing down to Nobby’s Beach the night before camping there. I was once again watching dreams unfold right in front of me.  The notion of sleeping on the beach just  sounded charming, romantic even.  We even grabbed some goon sacks (I’ll leave that research up to you) and a guitar to take down with us.  Our blankets were scattered just in front of Nobby’s Lighthouse, just before a “Caution: Falling Rocks” sign (but don’t get me wrong—I have no regrets).  

While the sentiment of this overnight beach adventure was dreamy, the reality of sleeping on the beach is bleak and harsh. The bitter breeze skimmed across the Pacific and brushed us with a wave of cool air.  The eight of us huddled in and made our circle of blankets a bit more close-knit.  As 1:00AM was approaching, we collectively agreed on a 3:45AM wake-up time to head back towards the kiosk to grab a coffee before the dawn service began.  I have never seen so many people wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at such an early hour of the morning than I did on ANZAC Day.  As we approached the kiosk –a group of eight foreigners, cloaked in sandy blankets, trudging down the footpath as a flock— you could tell that the significance of this Australian holiday was evident.  Alert, yet silent, locals made their way towards the stage where the service would be held.  Coffees in hand, we all stood together silently awaiting the commencement.  

Australian troops marched down the aisle that was cleared just for them, hundreds of people standing attentively on both sides of them.  Members of the Newcastle community took turns speaking to the crowd from the podium of the historical significance of  April 25, 1915 and the honourable Australian and New Zealand soldiers, both past and present.  Rifles were fired from atop a hill just behind the crowd to conclude the ceremony, grasping the attention of everyone in attendance.  

However, we were greeted by the true luminary just to our right—a breathtaking sunrise, fully equipped with impeccable hues of red and orange.  In that moment, I felt at home.  I felt accepted.  A congregation of Australians surrounded me, yet I did not feel foreign.  A service that is celebrated each year in Australian culture, I had experienced just once.  Yet there I stood, united with all who were present, gazing at the most remarkable sunrise I have had the glory of observing.  It is true that the grass is greener in some places and that some rivers and oceans run bluer than others—but what is so universally unique is the concept that we all look up at the same sky.  Each day, the sun rises and sets on the horizon, regardless of our coordinates.  Living on the east coast of Australia means that I am one of the first people to see the sun rise at the dawn of each day.  On ANZAC Day, the warmth provided by the rising sun gouged much deeper than simply the surface of my skin and that entity is endless. Sweet, sweet serendipity.

Cheers! xx