Emigrant
Sensibility in the Age of Globalization (2):
Into
My 5th Year of Living in Australia
By
Ssanyang
Published: July 25, 2015
Translated
by Lee Eun
Editor’s
note: Vacation, business travel, migrant labor, language study, study abroad,
international marriage, immigration—many of us have such experiences of
crossing national borders, and there are many immigrants living in our country.
Ilda examines the emigrant sensibility we will need in order to live equally
and peacefully in the age of globalization. This series is supported by the
Korea Press Foundation’s Press Promotion Fund.
Learning how to live in Western
culture
 |
| People enjoying a picnic on green grass next to the weekend market © Ssanyang |
Right
before turning 30, I hurried to get a Working Holiday visa to Australia. I had
determined to leave Korea by then, though without a concrete plan, as I was
becoming exhausted from living in Seoul. My twenties were hectic, but the
energy I had for what I wanted to achieve was waning, and I was choked by the
idea that the job I had started as a livelihood would be my job for life. I was
afraid that I would not be able to make a fresh start if I stayed in Korea,
because of the situations and relationships I was in.
My
life in Australia started without any special plan, as I was just running away
from all the things that had surrounded me. And somehow, 5 years have passed.
Since then, my status has changed from Working Holiday visa holder to
international student, to permanent resident, and then to graduate student. I
also moved a few times, from Melbourne to Brisbane, and then to Sydney, which
is my current city.
Looking
back, it was not all smooth. I had spent some time abroad before, but I was
little then, and it was in Asia. I was slow in learning how to survive in a
Western culture. When I became anxious to go back to Korea due to repeated
mistakes and feelings of isolation, I tried to turn to simple and peaceful
daily routines for consolation.
The difficult request: assertive
communication
It
was during my first practical training at Nursing College. The evaluator
pointed out that I was missing out on chances for things like injection
practice because I was not “assertively communicating.” And added that it would
be difficult to give me a passing grade if things persisted. As a student, it
was hard for me to voice my opinion and things were always busy in the
hospital. I was just focusing on tagging along with my partner nurse and
running errands, trying not to be a liability. I thought the nurse would take
care of me when there was time to spare. I should be assertive in communication
and create my own opportunities, and otherwise I would fail? Such a request
sounded like a threat and an impossible task.
This
reaction was only natural, since I had never been exposed to that kind of
advice in Korea. I was habituated to a system where all I had to do was be nice
and nod to the boss. When things went wrong along the way, I ended up quitting
most of the time, after talking behind the other person’s back or timidly
pulling a long face.
Later,
I realized that these behaviors were typical expressions of
passive-aggressiveness. And that it was somewhat unavoidable in the Korean
culture of unyielding hierarchy, where reasonable questioning based on logic is
ignored and even criticized as the rudeness of youth. Maybe, that is why
everyone [there] is living with unresolved anger and vents it on a third person
whom they think they can walk over.
Of
course, it is not always the case that you have a beautiful ending with no hard
feelings over here either. On the last day of the training, my voice was
trembling when I asked my partner nurse whether I could remove the central
venous catheter (a catheter placed into a large vein in the chest to administer
medication) instead of making beds. I remember that we then wrapped up our last
day in an awkward mood. What was interesting to me was that my partner nurse
was also not from Australia, and that may have been why neither of us was familiar
with assertive communication.
Thankfully,
the evaluator sympathized with me and suggested some workshops for me when I
explained that I was afraid of being impolite when trying to be assertive in
communication.
I
started to pay attention to how people here communicate, and realized that they
were polite, natural, and friendly. They would raise a question if something
was troubling, apologize if they were wrong, be thankful, give compliments, and
interact spontaneously. Naturally, it was rare to see one vent or emotionally
explode at the other.
When
I was in Korea, people with an emotional time bomb ready to explode were
everywhere, and I was also used to getting enraged easily, sometimes saying it
was self-defense. But here, people did not relate to those behaviors, and
strangely enough, throwing a tantrum became pointless. I began to feel that it
was unnatural to pass over it when things went wrong or to be embarrassed to
receive compliments, and started to try expressing how I feel candidly.
How racist is Australia?
My
friends in Korea sometimes told me to be cautious, saying Australia is very
racist. Every time I heard that comment, I responded, “Compared to living in
Korea as a woman, living in Australia as an Asian is a breeze,” and it was
true. I rarely felt disadvantaged or threatened for not being white. I am not
saying I have not gone through any hardships or seen others have a hard time. I
am saying that I do not believe it was based on racism against Asians.
For
example, I could not find a job when I first came here, even a waitress
position with a far lower hourly pay than the minimum wage. But later I found
out that British people also could not find jobs and had to go to farms on the
outskirt of the city. Competition was everywhere, and work experience was
important for anyone. Foreigners, regardless of nationality, were not as
protected by the system as were locals.
<< With friends, on the way back from volunteering at an Aborigine community ©
Ssanyang
I
assumed that people with the same native language or from a similar culture
would have adapted more easily, but it seemed that it differed among
individuals. The more vulnerable, such as someone who did not speak much
English or who had an expired visa, were the target of exploitation by
employers, and their nationality did not matter. I did hear of a few cases of
Asians attacked by strangers, but it was not frequent at all and society at
large was ashamed of it, not sympathetic to the perpetrator.
Above
all, there were numerous non-white immigrants, including Asians, around.
Sometimes, it was hard to spot a white person. I was surrounded by different
languages and different people from various countries in my school, on the
street, and in the hospital, which made it harder for anyone to hold a dominant
position.
The history of Australia has
been cruel to the Aborigine
It
is my understanding that talk of discrimination in Australia refers to the
oppressive treatment towards the Aborigine, which is still present. The past
and present situations are outrageous. As late as the 1970s, children of
Aborigines were forcibly taken from their family and sent to a facility for
assimilation into white society and separation from the Aborigine community.
Long after, the government apologized for the “stolen generation,” but there
was no proper reparations made for them, and many Aborigine children are still
separated from their family under the name of child protection.
In
2007, an emergency measure titled “Northern Territory National Emergency
Response” was adopted. The name came from the notion that children in the
Northern Territory, which is inhabited mostly by the Aborigine, were suffering
domestic violence and sexual abuse. The content of the measure was about
reducing their authority over the land, banning alcohol and porn, and
strengthening the review process for welfare benefits.
>> Australia Day is also the day the Aborigines were invaded by
outsiders. A protester at an Invasion Day demonstration, holding the Aboriginal
flag. Black represents the Aborigine, yellow the sun, and red the land. ©
Ssanyang
Due
to inherited poverty and diseases, the average life span of Aborigines is 10
years shorter than that of other Australians. When there is a suspicious death
of an Aborigine in prison, the issue of governmental power abuse arises.
Australia
Day marks the anniversary of the arrival of the first fleet of British ships.
The Aborigine call the same day “Invasion Day” and hold a rally every year to
demand that the date of the national day be changed, but so far have failed to
make much headway.
Recently,
fear of terrorism is growing in Australia as well, though slowly. There are
groups that are against Islamic culture and people, and anti-Islam rallies have
taken place. The movement is small and the public sentiment is not with it, but
it is worth noting.
‘Would I have tried what I did
if I stayed in Korea?’
My
first impression of Australia has blurred as I have become much more accustomed
to this country, yet it still surprises me sometimes. If I compared it to
person, Australia has sometimes felt like a naïve and worry-free child, and at
other times an adult with low self-esteem. Its history since British
colonization has been short, and the beginning of the country was neither clean
nor just. It would wish to succeed in the competition among Western countries
led by the U.K. and the U.S., but they do not see Australia as one of them. The
geographical location is close to Asia, making it necessary to work with Asian
countries.
There
also must have been confusion when immigrants from different parts of the world
rushed to Australia with their cultures even before the country established its
own identity. Maybe, this country was not ready to accept and process all that
as it did not yet have much of its own philosophy, liberal arts, or experience
with resolving social conflict.
Since
the land is humongous and the population is small, a social issue, no matter
how hot it is, hardly applies to everyone. The welfare system is nicely built,
so it is rare to see people form a group to complain about a certain matter. It
would be unimaginable for Australians to see one issue spreading to affect the
whole country, or to gather in a group of hundreds of thousands in downtown to
shout the same slogan.
The
list goes on. The infinite competition of working hard from dawn to midnight
regardless of the official working hours, or zealous studying and
resume-building just to survive, would sound crazy to Australians. The image of
a typical Australian is someone in sandals with a beer on a beach, walking around
and saying hi to everyone.
Of
course, there is competition in Australia as well, and life has become tougher
than before, they say. But I am studying in graduate school to become a
dentist, which never occurred to me to do when I was in Korea. I believe that
it was possible because I came to Australia, although a little late.
A little freer from others’
eyes
Before
I knew it, I turned 35 in Korean age. It is the age at which everyone says
others, except for me, have established their career and have kids. I have more
friends who do not belong to the category, but it is such an entrenched notion
that I feel its pressure even when I am across the ocean.
My
parents are relieved that I am finally studying something practical after all
the time I spent on useless things, but often say, “It would be better if you
had started it a little earlier.” Knowing that I am no longer young enough to
keep following my heart, I sometimes feel anxious when my certainty about my
current dream wavers.
 |
| A rally for the legalization of same sex marriage in Brisbane © Ssanyang |
But
here, thankfully, people do not care much about what others do. In Nursing
College, my mentor, who was a fellow student, was in her 50s and had a grown-up
daughter who was also a nurse. She got a job right after graduating from our
school, and got along with other nurses easily because there was no
hierarchical system based on age. One of my friends gave birth to a baby while
having nothing to do with marriage. Another friend went on a trip with her
boyfriend’s family. And another friend brought her same-sex partner to her
family and introduced her without giving them prior notice.
There
is nothing that “can never happen,” no social stigmatization. And I saw
possibilities in that. In this country where I can be freer from others’ eyes,
I might be able to enjoy a freer life just like my friends–having and raising
a child on my own, or not needing to worry about the sex of my partner.
The life of an immigrant is
full of variables
The
concept of hometown has always been difficult for me. I have no recollection of
the place where I was born, I was treated like an alien in my childhood, and I
had no affection for where I spent my adolescence. Since I stopped living with
my parents, the feeling of settling down has become even more unfamiliar to me.
I have lived in Australia for far longer than I first expected I would, but I
still hesitate to say I have settled down.
I
chose to learn nursing because I wanted to have a skill that could be useful
anywhere I go, so who knows, I might be in another country in ten years. Or, I
might surrender to homesickness someday and go back to Korea, even with the
memories of it being a country of excesses of both good and bad.
Perhaps
it is beyond my limit to be able to know about the future when I am living the
life of an immigrant, which is full of variables. I just wish to make today
better, wherever I am, with the people to whom I can open my heart.
*
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