To my adored and much loved Readers,
As I listen to the sounds of my brother Pablo singing to Ed while cooking dinner, I am sitting at the computer table at the Little White House, writing this for you to consume. Pour over, devour and form an opinion that will follow you throughout the day and evening. Saying that, I believe I have had an entertaining day so far before the clock strikes midnight and a new day is essentially born and created. With the new day being born and the sun peeking in through the blinds in the sunroom, I am hoping that the day is filled with countless experiences of mystery, laughter and most of all being surrounded by love.
Waking up at 8.30 this morning having a feeling that I should turn my phone on, I received a text by Lois telling me to call her back ASAP. Automatically dialling Lois’ mobile number and clearing my throat since I had only just woken up, I was told that both of my parents had left and that they would be a few hours. Having a feeling that Lois may have been telling a little white lie, I rushed downstairs and grabbed coffee mugs from the cupboard and filled it with equal amounts of coffee and sugar before waiting. Sure enough as predicted, I saw my parent’s white car pull up in the drive way as I let out a small squeal before putting on my ‘angry’ face and stormed out of the front door.
I stopped just beyond the front porch with my hands on my hips, a leg cocked to the side and said look as Red looked at me and proceeded to smile cheekily and Lois mentioned ‘Mum looks angry’. Wiping the expression off my face which was soon replaced by a grin, I gave Dad a massive cuddle complete with pat on the back before wrapping Lois in my arms. The hug was short lived compared to the 5 five minute hugs featuring Lois smelling my neck and nuzzling in that normally happen when we have been apart for a number of weeks. Bringing them inside and depositing them in the kitchen as normal, I made them their coffees before excusing myself to get dressed for the day as I was still in my pyjamas.
Not essentially the way I had wanted to greet my parents but then, I am a classy kind of gal.
After a few conversations between Hannah and Dad while Lois and I have a gasbag, it was time for me to pack the car with the necessities. Necessities that would keep me comfortable for the next few weeks as I relaxed with a corona in hand and a bag of sweet chilli and sour cream chips. Not to mention the moments I got bored so I decided to pack my pharmacology eBook chapters to be read and my textbook as well, much to the horror of Lois. Telling Lois who was going to pick my textbook out from the boot and put it back inside to leave it, it was time to double and triple check to make sure that I had everything.
Including my bikini pants that actually fitted my butt since I’ve lost weight as last time, I was having to make sure they were around my hips and not underneath my arse cheeks. And that I had left any personal and private things behind in case they were used as blackmail later on, it was time for me to say farewell. As Dad reversed out of the driveway and Lois set the music for the drive, I resisted the urge to scream out “woo hoo, FREEDOM!” Instead I silently fisted the air because there was nothing left besides my clothes and that I would stop walking on egg shells and take off the armour.
So while I was in the car, I slowly stripped off the armour until I actually resembled a care free adult that I normally am around my family members. Because as much as I sat there and pretended that everything was fine in my life, I only was the one who knew how tiring it was to live my life. Knowing I had to be constantly on my guard at all times of the day, protecting myself from the bullies lurking in the shadows and those who walked amongst us in the daylight. The moment’s people were nice to your face but had delightful and lovely conversation about you behind your back. Before trying to make you feel as if you were the size of Jack and they were the Giant and their actions were often delivered by a double edged sword, having had your name embossed in the side.
Not to mention dealing with comments about how by next winter, I would have piled the weight back on and more. To which I have to conclude that comment by stating, it’s not going to happen considering I’ve already lost another two kilos within the last three weeks. With that, it is bad enough that I have a cousin who tries to knock me down but knowing another who tries to sabotage you by making comments, just shows how pitiful and jealous they are. And in my case, it was due to choosing the path of eating healthy and eliminating food that has a high fat count but still occasionally have that weak moment of having a bag of sweet chilli and sour cream chips and a glass of iced tea.
Because after all, I am human and I need to live a little.
This leads me to my next point of thoughts and opinions.
Dad, Lois and I were discussing what had happened within the past week. The political beliefs of what fellow Australians and the Government are thinking about the hostage siege, the overall view on Muslims. And the new and improved belief that fellow Australians of any cultural belief and race should be expected to live under one law. That law as expressed by extremists within the last few days is the Sharia Law. My big mouth of course stated that if we were to return to the original religion or beliefs of Australia, pre-white, it would be the beliefs of Indigenous Australians. Indigenous Australians believe in the Dream Time and technically, they were the first people to touch Australian land 40,000+ years ago.
Having listened to Dad’s beliefs and thoughts upon the subject of immigrants, Sharia Law, extremists and what had essentially rocked Australia this week, Dad and I came to a mutual conclusion. The conclusion that we listed without sounding like a bunch of racists, considering everyone on the planet is a racist in some form or shape, was everyone living in Australia should accept and respect another person’s beliefs/thoughts. In return, these people shouldn’t force one’s religious beliefs upon another or a country. And that the only law that should be followed by anyone living or seeking permission to live in Australia as a citizen, is the law having been written under the Australian Constitution.
This in turn made me think about what my life would actually be like if I lived under someone else’s laws and belief.
First of all, I wouldn’t have the freedom that other women my age would have while living in another country. I wouldn’t be able to wear the clothes that I saw in magazines, if I were allowed to read them, because dressing like a white girl would be against the law. And if I did go outside the house without wearing the correct attire, I would face being fined by police, dealing with men cat calling or I would be thrown in jail. And since I am a female, I wouldn’t be allowed to ask for a lawyer to plead my case, if I had been male then I would have been allowed to get away with it. My education would have been over and done by the age of 12 because no girl needs to be smarter than a boy.
Having ceased my education and now being taught how to become the perfect housewife, I would have been put on the market for men to make my Father an offer for marriage. Which would have then horrified my Mother, causing her to plead with my Father to not marry me off so young before she would be silenced with a hand across her face. Because the belief is that women are to be seen and not heard. If my Mother’s begging had worked, I would wait until the age of 14-15 before being married off a man much older than myself. Who may or may not necessarily beat me if I didn’t do as expected quickly enough and would be expected to have children. Not knowing that my teenage body wouldn’t be able to handle carrying a child and when crying from the pain racking my body, I would be told ‘Be quiet. Our Lord doesn’t need to hear your cries’.
Thankfully I do not live a lifestyle as having been described before. Unlike some girl in another country who is exactly my age and has experienced everything I have just stated.
Instead, I live in a country that openly expresses their desire for the daughters of the nation to be educated from a young age. Where we have the right to form our own decisions as to whether or not we want to finish high school at year 10, continue onto the finishing our senior years and if we want to go to University. I live in a country that allows me to go to the beach in a bikini without having to worry if I am going to be put in the back of a police car because I showed bare skin. I live in a country that I don’t have to fear of being stoned to death because I was raped by a male.
As in some countries it would be classified as my fault because I am a female and thus have asked him to rape me by encouraging him with my body actions. While the rapist walks away without being punished. I live in a country where I have the choice of whether or not I have children as a teenager, as a mature aged 32 year old or if I want to have children in general. I live in a country that has accepted the idea that most families today are either de-facto relationships or single parents along with married couples.
Finally, I live in a country where my Father doesn’t pick my husband for me. Instead, I get to pick the man that I will spend the rest of my life nagging, cooking for, mothering and screaming “you will be having the next kid”.
And for that factor, I classify myself as living in a dream country where I can openly express my feelings, thoughts and opinions and I don’t have to essentially worry about being murdered in my sleep. Because in my government’s eyes, I was classified as a terrorist/threat and I needed to be eliminated.
I know that the few of these blogs have been spent discussing political beliefs and what Australia means to me, but it is something that I am passionate about. I have always been told how lucky I am to have such freedom where I can form an opinion about my government without concern, when having bitched about how countries appear different. As I haven’t wanted to live in Australia for the rest of my life and I didn’t understand, why someone would want to come and live here for the rest of their lives.
Considering I have a Mother who originally came from New Zealand and has stated that Australia had more opportunities then New Zealand did, I should have paid closer attention to what she has been talking about when discussing her childhood.
Her childhood was filled with moments of seeing her Father rush out the door because another earthquake or volcano eruption had happened again and he needed to go play hero. The moments of seeing her Father come back from army exercises and wondering when he was going to leave again as it felt like the earth had stopped rotating. And also the time that he left one night to go and went to fight in Vietnam against those who wanted to bring a change of communism to all of Vietnam. Lois may have only been little at the time but it was the beginning of something new. And that something would be discovered when she first stepped off the plane on Australian soil later in life and knew within that moment of touching tarmac, she was ‘home’.
Instead I discovered how lucky I am to have such freedom both within my home but also in society, when I spoke to people while on placements. These people, who were classified as immigrants by the Australian Government, opened my eyes as to what happens beyond what the media portrayed on my television at night. I had the opportunity of sitting in a few conversations and also have broken English conversations; I had a different opinion about these people. This was soon confirmed when reading history of what these people had seen, done and gone through while in their home country and how they managed to escape from being killed or thrown in jail.
Considering I used to be one of those people who would yell at the television at the sight of another boat appearing on the Australian horizon, I am no longer someone who does that. Instead I am someone who sits there now and imagines how far they have come from sneaking across a boarder into another country. All the while making sure they were five steps ahead of their own government, as their government were chasing after those who were trying to escape.
I now understand the journey they have taken from multiple Middle Eastern countries to board a ship from this country to Indonesia where they board a rickety old boat that is overflowing with others. They then endeavour a dangerous ride to reach the Australian shores knowing that the Navy will pick them up, before transferring them to an island for detainees. Or in some cases, fighting for their life as the boat they were on starts to sink.
While paddling for their lives if they haven’t been sucked underneath the water and they break above the waves, they hope that the Australian or Indonesian Naval services will come and rescue them. In some cases, the Indonesian navy hasn’t rescued these people as they consider the boat to be near the Australian waters when they are still within the Indonesian waters. This caused a massive uproar within the Australian population, particularly in the immigration detention centres, as Indonesia could have saved a hundred plus lives but chose to turn their back on these people. And Indonesia’s statement was ‘it is the Australian Navy’s fault for not having rescued these people’.
Can I just point out that these people fighting for their lives were still within the Indonesian water. I rest my case.
I know I could go on and on with this subject as it is a never ending topic. I believe this is why I am a firm believer of sustaining my own freedom before I become married. Because as much as people try to tell me marriage life is fantastic and easy (who are we kidding because I happen to have eyes), I believe that when that ring is placed on your finger, you lose a small part of your freedom. You now don’t have the option of waking up and picking a destination for travel when you reach the airport but rather, you now have to consider ‘what about blah?’ and ‘do I have enough money to do this considering we are paying a house mortgage off?’. With that, this is why I happen to like being unmarried because compared to most people my age, I can still board a plane and travel to a destination for a weekend without wondering what the ball and chain is going to be thinking.
With that, On The Tenth Day of Christmas, Santa Gave To Me the ability to express my thoughts without fearing I am going to wake up with a barrel of gun been pointed between my eyebrows.
And also, for the fact that I get to pick my own Mr. Darcy without my Father arranging the marriage because I live in a free country.
Finally, I get to make the decision of when I get to have children and not my husband.
Until next time,