The house is mostly decorated, the presents mostly wrapped. There is baking to be done, and carols to sing tomorrow evening. I have spent the last 3 weeks doing holiday activities with my kids at the cafe and have a mind to attempt mini ginger bread houses on Tuesday.
Last night was Greg's work party and Nora had a rare babysitter watching over here while we had some adult time away. The side effect of our adult night out was a very unsettled little girl today. She spent most of the day within arms reach of me and most preferably on my lap. She's much better and finally asleep this evening, but I'm hoping she grows out of this because I would like to be able to go on more dates alone with my husband in the coming year.
I was eating lunch with Nora settled into my lap, sandwich in one hand, the paper spread out on the table. The weather was typical Melbourne 4 seasons in one day: one minute sunny, one minute cloudy, one minute rainy, etc. You get used to this country after a while, (I still hate getting caught in the rain) but there are some things you just don't get used to. I found myself in tears, holding onto my daughter, thankful to be where I am and who I am.
Yesterday's news, today's sorrow. I'm sure that in the states it's just another news blip, but there was a boat full of refugees that got caught in some horrible weather off of Christmas Island. Caught in the weather and caught on the absolute wrong side of the island, 4 meter swells, razor sharp cliffs. 30 people dead, 44 saved, estimates of there having been more than a hundred passengers. The boat was full of refugees from Iran and Iraq. People who had paid a life's worth of savings to get a flight to Indonesia, and then to pay for passage across the water with no guarantee that Australia would even let them in. These people started their journey trying to find a better life and ended it clinging to the wreckage of a flimsy wooden boat. The residents of the island were throwing life jackets and floats, but otherwise they were powerless. It was a case of the sea being so dangerous that to attempt a rescue from land would mean certain death for the rescuer and the refugee. They saw young children, "babies" (3/4 years old), holding onto the wreckage, screaming, and there was nothing they could do. The Navy finally got a boat out to try picking up the people who weren't being smashed against the rocks.
The irony is that there is a huge debate going on here about these refugee boats and Christmas Island is an offshore detention/ processing center for the "boat " people that have been arriving on almost a daily basis in Australian waters. So many people trying to find a better life away from war and poverty.
There is talk of a refugee center being established in Indonesia so that Australia can process these people before they take pay through the nose for unsafe passage to our shores. One side blames the other for the increase in boats. Some Australians don't want these people; they don't want any more foreigners changing the country that they know. There is already blame being cast as to why they didn't see the boat on radar farther out (all of the reports say that it wasn't picked up and was sighted off the coast at 5am in the morning - too close to prevent the tragedy).
So, I held onto Nora, and I fretted over those children lost to the sea. The children who will never proudly wear a sun hat and uniform to their first day of prep, the children who will never apply sunscreen as if their life depended on it. Children who will never swing in the park and sit on their mom's lap in a cafe enjoying an espresso cup full of foamed milk designed to indoctrinate them into the coffee culture. Never watch Australian Play School on ABC. Never kick a footy. Never dance to the Wiggles or see Santa arriving on a fire truck. Children who will never have that "something better" that their parents desperately wanted for them.
It was so easy for me, in comparison, to move here. So easy for them to accept me, so easy for me to blend into this culture. It's heartbreaking to think about how difficult it is for so many people. There but for the grace of God go I. The Australia that I know well is a melting pot and I know that not everyone wants to keep these people away. But it is so hard for these refugees. It's heartbreaking.
I didn't have much Christmas spirit this season to begin with. But I'll be glad when the festive season is over and I can settle back into normal life. My sweet, wonderful, privileged, normal life.
