Tuesday, January 20, 2009

How we come together

Have you ever noticed those garish calendars hanging in Asian grocery stores or restaurants? Each month is accompanied by inked gold fish paintings or airbrushed photographs of Hong Kong actresses. There are Chinese characters against each date which indicate dates of the Lunisolar calendar. This year, Chinese New Year falls on Australia Day and even now, red festoons are displayed in many Chinese restaurants in readiness for weekend celebrations both in the city and in various suburbs.

Australia Day marks the arrival of the First Fleet at Sydney Cove in 1788. This was the start of British colonisation of Australia and the holiday has been called 'Invasion Day' by indigenous people. Admittedly, and especially since I no longer have the luxury of the holiday occurring as another sleep-in during a long summer break, the Australia Day public holiday is a welcomed day off work. The tennis is on, everyone is usually sweltering in the heat, sometimes there is a bbq and on the news we hear who is Australian of the Year and who was awarded an OAM. That is the impression Australia Day has on me.

Last year, my nephew was born on Australia Day. I visited my sister and her husband at an inner city hospital, watched in wonderment that my little sister is now a mother (and not that little anymore) to this little human with an Italian name, swaddled and sleeping in her arms. Afterward, I wandered to the city to watch the Australia Day fireworks knowing the extra layer my nephew's birth has added to this day.

I don't think these simultaneous occurrences are incredible, at least not in the 'No way! Shut up! Get outta here!' sort of way, but I do ponder the richness of our country that has led to all three events being celebrated, freely and concurrently.

Despite past laws and controversies calling for the stop to migration, Australia has always been built by immigrants. These waves brought with them traditions which added to the experience of living in Australia and being Australian. What is it to be Australian? I dislike cricket like poison, can't stand to eat lamb and have never said "G'day" to anyone and yet I was born here. How was this configuration possible? My parents were immigrants and despite their influences I am no less Australian than a fifth generation Australian.

I would say that it doesn't matter your tastes in food, your accent nor the leisure activities you pursue, I would say that to be Australian is to love this country, to acknowledge its uniqueness in the world and to embrace whatever it has to offer whether it be Australia Day celebrations, birthdays for our Italian poet nephew or New Year's traditions from far away.

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