The stories of migration are fascinating. I find it hard to comprehend packing up a life, a home and migrating to another country. A country where you don’t speak the language, or understand the culture. A country where you are regarded as strange or wrong or out of place, just because you are different.
Migrants are people who are strong, hardened and extremely brave. They can teach us a lot about flexibility, understanding, tolerance and patience. They can tell us tales of alienation, loneliness, perseverance and friendship.
I moved from Adelaide to Melbourne in my mid-twenties. A form of migration, I suppose. I certainly packed up my life and moved to a land that I knew nothing about. The culture of Melbourne was, and still is, vastly different to Adelaide. I don’t feel brave, but I must have been. I don’t think I’m strong, but I must be. I can certainly echo the feelings of alienation and loneliness. At the time, I knew nobody here in Melbourne; but through perseverance I formed some important and affirming friendships and I carved out a fabulous life for myself.
Most of all, I think migrants—even if ourselves—can teach us about who we are. Listen to what they tell us, for that is the time we learn the truth.