At the Virgin airport rank last night, the supervisor directed a Persian fella to my cab. As my cabin light was on, he eyeballed me and visibly hesitated. But what could he do - he was at the head of a long, anxious queue.
After climbing in the front he requested Auburn. With no luggage or hand baggage he had just arrived from Brisbane, his home for the last 12 months. First though, he requested I take him to a cheap airport hotel, as he was flying back early this morning. A 12 hour visit. After he booked into a $69, Formula 1 Lego-Box in St Peters, we headed for Auburn.
A small man of slight build, his contorted body language hugging the door, refused to talk. So I continued listening to an Iraqi-handover special on ABC radio. Stupidly, I idly wondered if he was a local insurgent on a mission, such was his tenseness next to me. Conversely, I would not have been surprised if he thought I was a spy. Of all the luck, he had to get a skippy cabbie. A rare thing at night in Sydney cabs...
The endless radio news covered Iraq, Israel and Palestine, offering us no respite, but I was too uncomfortable to turn it off. Until finally, embarrassed for him, I overcame my nervousness to kill the radio and engage him on some non-contentious matters, ‘So how do you like Brisbane ?’, I asked. Immediately, he wound up the window and noticeably relaxed in the seat, replying, ‘Oh yes, very good’. I felt silly, for waiting so long to apply the ice-breaker.
For thereafter he was a congenial passenger, on the long trip to Auburn. Of Turkish descent, aged thirty-something, he responded freely to some basic questions. He had been in Australia 17 years and acquired passable English. He’d married a second generation Turkish/Australian woman. First he’d spent 10 years in Melbourne, thence 6 years in Auburn, Sydney and now resided in Brisbane.
This was his best move yet he insisted, nominating the pace of life, the weather and the ‘boosh’. With two pubescent daughters and a 5 year old boy he had decided Brisbane was the best environment for his family. With reservations, ‘Orstraya good, you know, beautiful but..’ he hesitated. ‘Hard for family..?’, I suggested. ‘Yes, yes, very hard. You know I lived in Auburn - I hate Auburn.’
He had the dilemma many Muslims have in Australia. Reconciling our Western lifestyle with his traditional culture. Negating what he saw as the negative influence on his parenting.
‘I’m happy we in Brisbane because there, we no live with Turkish people.’ Living in the general community, rejecting their values, yet seeking to avoid the values of secular Muslims. Totally isolated from both communities. ‘In Sydney much trouble, fighting, drugs, boyfriends, trouble for me...’ Even so he was up against it. Neither his kids nor his wife spoke Turkish.
He was atypical of Muslims who came to Australia. Looking to escape the rigidity of traditional Islamic life, only too happy to embrace Australias’ largely secular lifestyle. Being a traditionalist though, he despaired for the future of his kids, that they would be seduced by the secular Muslim society, prevalent in Australia.
Accordingly I judged, he had consciously isolated his family in Queensland, in a futile bid to retain his traditional Turkish lifestyle. Poor bastard I thought, he’s got a real battle on his hands.
He listed the Aussie freedoms and liberalism he was up against. ‘You can’t control your kids, they can have the police come, leave you, get money from Government, they speak no Turkish, in the schools there is trouble - now I pay for private schools, may be better...’, his voice trails off.
A total failure to acknowledge his wife, or her views, to me spoke volumes for his seemingly hopeless predicament. I wanted to warn him of the danger of courting divorce in this country, how the Family Court would slaughter his expectations, such as they were. Would change his life, and his person forever. But how could I - it was like watching a tidal wave peaking, hovering over his hopes and dreams. There was only one outcome...
Nearing Auburn, I told him the Sydney I grew up in, was largely a Christian society. Now however, our religion had negligible influence in this modern city. It presented the same challenges for Aussie Christian parents, looking to emulate the families they grew up in.
Also how Sydney is not traditional Australia, but rather an international city with an Australian flavour. He understood this distinction. I asked him to consider, if Istanbul was either traditional Turkey, or an international city with a Western flavour. He gave this suggestion some thought and reluctantly agreed, so I allowed the conversation to die.
I figured he knew enough, to recognise the traditional life he wanted for his family, could only be found in Turkey, away from Istanbul. There was no need to voice what was obvious. He had some serious reassessing to do, in order to save his dream of raising a family in Australia.
At Auburn, he paid me $50, then warmly responded to my offer of a handshake, ‘All the best to you mate,’ I said. He had a kindly face. A good, noble man. I wanted to tell him - you’re not alone here mate, have faith in Australias’ secular Muslim society, which many Turks have questioned before you. You must bend with the wind and give some ground. It’s your only hope.
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