"Hey there, Boof - I see you made your connections without any trouble; that's too bad. By the way, have you gained weight?"

There is only one person in the world I could greet in such a manner. The response was an instantaneous and expected sprinkling of rude unmentionables. My peripheral vision indicated that more than a few worried glances were shot our direction. A passerby changed his course, giving us a wide berth. I could not be happier; I had been looking forward to this week for months.

Back in 2005 I was enrolled in a study abroad program, studying business in Melbourne, Australia. It should not be surprising that one of my best friends at the time was an Australian named Ben Govett. Not surprising, because we share similar interests - we are both from dairy farms. We both enjoy water sports and scuba diving. We both ride motorcycles. And, if I may be perfectly blunt, at the time neither of us was in Melbourne to study business.

I wrote several articles featuring the dynamic and never colorless Mr. Govett not only because he was my best friend at the time, but also because our relationship provided such a clearly defined window into the Australian culture. At least when I lived down under, the term "bully" did not exist. To the contrary, an Australian will purposefully discover what ticks you off, just to see how you react. Should you become indignant or offended, they pounce. Like gasoline on a fire, you react - to their infinite delight. Australians have perfected the art of gently prodding someone to the edge, only to push them off, all in the name of entertainment.

Don't be mistaken; none of this is meant to be malicious. Australians are the most unpretentious, emotionally stable, carefree people I have had the privilege of living amongst. The verbal sparring is nothing more than a low-grade hazing. If you make the mistake of reacting, or act offended, prepare to be laughed at and impugned. Survive it, and you are welcomed into the culture. Perfect the art of dishing it right back with a vengeance, and you have a friend for life.

I lived in Melbourne for eight months. I was fortunate to have such a friend as Ben Govett; most of the other international students stuck together in tight-knit impenetrable cliques. Ben and I toured the Victorian countryside attending dairy shows, hit the beach on numerous occasions, gave the Melbourne nightlife a run for its money, and most shocking of all, were never arrested.

I am actually not joking - during the Melbourne Cup, Ben and I found ourselves jumping between groups of friends in one of Melbourne's many parks. A heated argument most certainly fueled by the early afternoon beer led to shoves. A scuffle on the pavement ensued, and one of us walked away dripping blood. But that was it - we both walked away laughing "that was pretty cool" toward the nearest pub.

Any such outbreak of violence inevitably ended the same - with cheap beer and laughs. It was amazing, how simple all of life's problems became, when spending time with an Australian. Having girl trouble? Ben might reply, "Why? There are plenty more out there." Is there drama in the family? "Eh - that's why I don't go to the reunions." Having fiscal worries? "That's why I don't drink expensive beer." Worried about your grades? "Whatever - there's always next semester."

Carefree. Unpretentious. One evening Ben and I had made arrangements to sleep at his brother's house, which was conveniently located within walking distance of downtown Bendigo, Victoria. Unfortunately, Ben's brother forgot to leave the door unlocked. Inconvenienced, Ben simply broke in, through a window. "Next time he'll remember," was the reply.

When I returned to the United States we sort of lost contact. I say "sort of" because good friendships do not require constant, daily maintenance. Over the past several years Ben and I would randomly check in, sending each other a quick email referencing some inside joke. "Hey Ben, remember the time you tried to sell the university?" A reply would eventually come, "Food fight."

But then, the most exciting message of all: Ben had won a scholarship that would take him to Toronto, Canada for a week for The Royal. He arranged to spend an extra week in the United States following the dairy show, with plans to meet me stateside.

Finally, my friend was coming to America to visit. We hatched a plan that would include sightseeing in the Midwest, a tour of Washington, DC, followed by several days in New York City. At last, I would have the opportunity to repay my friend for the hospitality I received while a guest in his country.

To say that I was looking forward to Mr. Govett's visit would be a gross understatement. It would be good to catch up with a long-lost friend, but his brief stateside tenure would also serve a rather unexpected purpose. Just as getting married forces one to take a step back and analyze their family from someone else's viewpoint, I would inevitably catch a glimpse of what the United States looks like from a foreigner's perspective.

All joking aside, all bruises long since healed, Ben Govett and I approached each other at Chicago O'Hare. A handshake and with genuine sincerity we acknowledged, "Hey man, it is good to see you again."

- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.