Something to Appreciate About

The Dictation Test

From 1901 customs officers were given the
power to exclude non-Europeans.

In the face of international criticism,
officials looked for a way to exclude people
without making it seem due to the race.
The answer was the notorious Dictation
Test. Immigrants could be required to pass
a language test in any European language.
If they failed, they were refused entry.

Maltese applicants were given a test in
Dutch. A political activist who spoke several
European language eventually failed when
he was tested in Gaelic.

This technique continued to be used by
Customs until 1958.

(A reference shown at one of the exhibition walls in the Immigration Museum, Melbourne)

What makes a great country a great country is that they learned from their history, and the first step to do that is to acknowledge failures and educate their young about it: to make sure that the same mistakes will not happen.

A Confession from the Land of the Unknown

It is the moment of arrival –at a ship’s dock or an airport lounge.
There are feelings of excitement, fear, disappointment and relief.
Some carry a single suitcase; others wait for a shipping container.
Alone or surrounded by the family, it is a step into the unknown.
The journey has only just begun…
(As written in the Immigration Museum, Melbourne)

It hit me right away. Indeed, nothing is truer than what it says. My journey here has only just begun. I am excited to learn more. Excited to test my own limitations and boundaries; get to know myself in a more intimate way: starts another chapter.

I remember when I arrived in this country a month ago: I was nervous but I try to maintain my calm. I was afraid but I managed to appear composed and confident. It is the mentality set that I applied to manipulate my own brain: everything is all right (which it really is the case) despite my anxious “what ifs” state.

Then there were time when I have gone sensitive on things. In retrospect, I know that I am in the unknown, just like what the writing above suggests, and although I can fool people by making a convincing attitude and gestures (that I am OK, always ready for whatever it may come) I actually cannot fool myself. I miss my familiar support system: my family, my friends.

Yes, my journey has only just begun. How will it turns out? Who knows? But just like the late Layla Mirza once told me: one baby step at a time. And my first baby step is admitting that I am not always strong and brave. I actually not as solitaire as I thought before. I have just arrived & nervous to start my cruise…

Melancholy

I sung a song this morning and all of a sudden, I felt my eyes wet. I have to fight hard not to cry because I was standing at the bus stop with people passing by. I was waiting for the bus, for all sake! I don’t know why I felt that way. But I did.

I don’t remember the title of the song. Is there any song called “the greatest love of all”? I don’t really know, but it has that phrase in the lyrics. Perhaps I just missed my family. I remember that on my farewell party with my big-extended family we were hiring a band just to make things more exciting. I remember that the singer sung this song. This song then brought back the memory when my stepfather sang 2 songs for me: The first of May and Words. He looked at me and sang it heartily. And I felt it. I felt the love of a father to his daughter. Something that I missed for almost 16 years. I tried not to compare my biological father with my stepfather; notwithstanding, my stepfather is the only father that I know of. I lost my biological father when I was still too young to remember, and that is why it is very difficult for me not to love my stepfather dearly. He actually loves me in the most subtle way but somehow I can feel it. I know that sometimes I made him really upset, but there are times (not too many, unfortunately) that I know that he really is proud of me. There is nothing more in the world that is more beautiful than that. The warm and fuzzy feeling of making somebody else’s happy, particularly if that somebody is the one that you love and respect most.

I know I am just being melodramatic, but somehow being away and lost in the crowd made me feel this way. And I just wish by typing this down will help me to get over it. Or Shepard can help me do that? Hmm, let us see…

dilemma

I miss you but I hate you but I miss you but I hate you but I miss you but I hate you but I miss you but I…

One moment, please!

Sometimes I can be so selfish and ignorant, but I just cannot afford to do that now. My Javanese’s side will not let me. Nevertheless, how much can I take? When will I determine that enough is enough? I am trying to understand you; even struggling in so many times however, I don’t want to be misunderstood all the time. Do not take things for granted for I worked for it. Hard. Ignorance will not do you any good anymore. I am in the edge of the very meaning of tolerance, understanding, sympathy and whichever else that you want to call it. I am just sick of your “me-first” attitude all the way through. Could you please save some room for someone else other than yourself?

text from home

A familiar tone came across the frequency, asking the very state of mine and telling things that I love to hear most. How are you all?

27 Fairland Avenue, Oakleigh East, VIC 3166

Another day in refuge. No empty space: cramped, crowded, too many things in so little space. Not to mention the presence of others must be taken into account as well. Wish I could spare some in the very corner of my sanity for I must maintain my sense of self-control and privacy. Looking back to those happy-old-days: hakuna matata days. What brings me here now seems so distant but strangely clear. Well, everything will eventually end and this too will past… (and not a second too soon nor late, I hope).

a new chapter

Days in days out in this new world of mine with plenty of possibilities yet some restraint are there challenges are everywhere waiting to be plugged in and there was the late chrisye brought the familiar all together struck the fact of being far from people I know most and small and insignificant in this continuous evolving mother earth work in new ways and challenges excited the overall yet conjured mixed-up emotions on the old-fashioned atmospheres from the birds and the chill from the layers of skin and the crowded but cosy room I do miss home yet love the very state of current

Being away
I didn’t have many problems adjusting here without my family and friends, but when I met this person and told me his story, I couldn’t hold up the emotion of being grateful and sad in the same time. He told me that his youngest son (a cute 4 years old) is suffering from blood cancer. Leukaemia to be exact. Yet he managed to appear strong and focus. I’m not a parent, but growing up with a very big and close family; I can only imagine the desperation. He’s here not only for the sake of his future, but for his son as well. He must be away for a while and try to find a better place here in Melbourne for him and his family who will join him later on. And here I am, still thinking and debating for some selfish and unimportant ideas. There are times when I think of all or nothing, but there I was, listening to this man’s story, and couldn’t help to feel embarrassed about some things that I’ve so selfishly thought of and done.

Another story

One of the very early things that I’ve found out here is a little bit like in Indonesia, I suppose, that not many Australians going to uni. Here, entering uni is a privilege, just like in any other part of the world. And I am here now because of the Australians taxes and from thier taxes I can live a modest but prosperous life. (A weird concept, isn’t it? But yes it’s true.) There was guilt sneaked in, but then I thought, “hey I deserves this, I've worked quite hard for this.” In my bank account sits AUD 5000 that I can easily spend for the settlement. Then, I met this (quite an aged) guy whose job is sheering wools and he only made $2 per lamb he sheered. So he said if he wants to make a living out of it, he must sheers 200 lambs everyday. And again, I can’t help but to recall my bank account, the amount of money in it and the amount of the stipend that I’m going to receive this weekend. And later, I couldn’t help myself to think that some of my (and going to be) money comes from him. In a way, I feel like I robbed him or something.

Darn, I know sometimes life’s unfair... But still…