lBefore me my parents arrived in another country just to be able to carry. The thicker coat was colder than I was used to, and was one of the first items I bought. I didn’t know, everyone I loved was thousands of kilometers away, somewhere in a sunny and warmer place.
Without a job, family or livelihood promise, I packed my life along the Sydney coast and moved to Birmingham. This was called “Venice of the North,” a canal that meanders through the city and its suburbs.
I quickly found myself out of my depths. For the first time in my life I was not at a completely unqualified job without paying bills and rent. As the sun began to set at 4:30 and the cold robbed everyone’s joy from life, I wondered why I made this choice.
At that moment I remembered that over 40 years ago my father had set out on a one-way journey from his homeland, Vietnam, to Australia. He traveled through the Cambodian jungle, evaded the soldiers and arrived at a refugee camp in Thailand. Meanwhile, my mother stepped into the 17-year-old plane and left her house forever. Her brother had set sail on the boat years ago, and some say they are not suitable for the open ocean, but he thankfully left it unharmed in a safe place. He lived in Australia well, so she continued.
They were all strangers from strange lands. My dad taught me how they once went to the supermarket just to gaw everything they couldn’t afford to buy. They wore big thick jackets as these young Vietnamese men in the tropical had never experienced mild weather. The store wanted them to steal.
This language was their biggest challenge. I swear I’m asserting: Beichester), Beauchamp (this is: boh-champ), ruislip (I’m still said, but I don’t remember yet: roos-lip? roo -y-slip? ta).
Of course, our struggles were different in many ways. I have been educated. My parents had no opportunity to pursue it. Thanks to them I had a life with enough time and comfort to discover who I was and read everything from Veronese and Van Gogh to the Romans and Renaissance.
They learned English – the fourth language – on the spot, in tenses and exploitations that are not present in Cantonese or Vietnamese. I might still say soccer instead of soccer, but I didn’t need a 12 year old to read my letters and confuse “you” or “you.”
So whenever my job was uneasy about me or when life was grey like Brummy’s winter, I remember my parents did more with less.
They raised their children, started a business, sold them, bought homes. They did all that while the arrival was said to mean Australia was “overwhelmed by Asians” and they should return to where they came.
Next to the mountains my parents conquered, it seems that they can far overcome the deadlines they missed. Fighting against the pressure of hitting office politics and KPIs is far from washing dishes in French restaurants or cleaning industrial equipment like my father. People around you didn’t understand you.
Resilience is probably the most important lesson I have learned from my parents.
If they remained in Vietnam, it is impossible to know if their lives would have been better. When I took my father to Vietnam on the holiday, I saw that the vast modern city of Saigon became, so I could see him imagine what it was. But what cannot be denied is that their migration changed them and created beautiful things despite their tough lives.
As a refugee, my parents lost their position in the world, but by seizing opportunities in their new homes, they made themselves known as parents, parents, factory workers, bank counters, and Australians. I found it.
For me, moving abroad has shown me that I know what I want from life. I’ve met colleagues I could count as friends for life and had the privilege of traveling and seeing that I only read what my parents read. I discovered the joy of mixed Punjabi grilling in a Dijpub and acquired the taste of hagis and orange chips. I wandered through the Palace of Versailles and the imaginary luxury balls. We peered into the wonders of Antoni Gaudi’s architecture, sipped a mead on the sacred island of Lindisfarne and sailed along the legendary Venice canal.
Being an immigrant was the best thing I’ve ever done and I was lucky enough to have the option.
