Beach or not?

What could be nicer than to live near the sea?

Sometimes I get frustrated with living here because I can't find particular things in local shops. Like paper fasteners for clocks for students to learn to tell the time. The local supermarkets didn't have any, nor did the local news agents in 3 towns nearby. However, they were eventually sourced at the counter in the Salvos one day...

It looks so peaceful in the late afternoon here. Somehow it's more relaxing than looking at a cityscape. All within half an hour of our front door. I wonder if the boat owners get as much satisfaction from looking at them as I do?

A gentle flickering reflection is totally relaxing. There used to be an oyster bed in the bay, but for some reason it was not successful.

A man was getting ready to row back to shore when I took this. He'd been messing about with a motor on the little boat at the front of the picture. Does maintenance of a peaceful little boat become a chore?

If trees appeal, they are also on offer...

Our little boardwalk has wallabies galore in the late afternoon, except on this day...

Of all the places I have called home,this would have to be the most uninhabited and peaceful.

How come it is sometimes possible to whinge about the distance to things in the city? That is precisely why it is calm here...

 

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The Little Refugee Part 3

As time went on, the monk's enthusiasm for learning never waivered. He attended every class he enrolled in, and soon became proficient at using the computer, a skill which opened up communication channels like facebook. He learned about safety in the home, good eating, dealing with the police, food handling, applying for a loan, buying a car - the list of topics were as useful as we could make them. The most memorable was one fairly early session with cups of rice, and tasks to help students understand fractions. They were a difficult concept to grasp without lots of physical tasks to see how they work. 1/3 + 1/3 = 2/3 looks easy but I assure you it is not! And it is not easy to understand an explanation in a second language. But he, and the other young Karen began to see what was involved and another mystery was unlocked. One of the last activities we had was after he disrobed:- we went down a mine and saw how early settlers in our town lived and worked...
 The monk began learning  to drive, and got his driving test first time. Then he was on the lookout for a car, with the help of a few friends.
He spoke generally about his decision to disrobe, and from the outside it looked like a pragmatic choice. He felt he needed to look for work and earn some money, and he was not going to be able to do that while a monk. But he didn't want to leave his charges in the lurch, so he waited until they were able to travel and cope without his care. This was a very unselfish choice, because he had many friends, and the option of work at the abbatoir was always there...   
One day he announced that the following week he would disrobe and start looking for work, which he did with his usual quiet dignity. The same week, a job with some potential was advertised in the local paper, and a class studying workskills was asked to do a mock CV and application. The monk was interested in actually submitting the form, but after a four hour stint on addressing selection criteria he took cold feet and declined the chance to send off the application. His comment was succinct. "I can work in the abbatoir without an interview. I just go because my friend recommends me, and I start work."  With overtime, he can earn good money, more than a starting wage in many other jobs. But some of the people who had worked for years at the abbatoir were desperate to change jobs, and few had had success gaining other employment. The opportunities to learn English were also limited, so he would have little chance to improve his speaking. But the choice had to be entirely his.
Then he had his second big break. A large local employer, in the hospitality industry was looking for a number of new starters, to train up in a variety of areas, from gardening and outdoor activities to kitchen duties and guest services. The boss had followed the monk's progress with interest over a few years, and was keen to know if he would be seeking employment. A "chat" was organised, and the monk was offered a trial for a full-time, permanent job, starting in very much a training role, and hopefully progressing over time. It was a dream offer, and the timing was superb! Someone was prepared to look beyond what was an unskilled, inexperienced worker, to see the potential behind the face.
While standing in a queue at the Post Office, waiting to process his Working With Children check, a teller saw he was no longer dressed as a monk, and called out to him - "What are you doing without your clothes on!!" He, and everyone else in the queue laughed good humouredly.  
The little monk, now a young man with promise and plans, starts work tomorrow. Full time, and permanent. What better start could he have in Australia! But if such things can be earned, he earned it!  WE WISH YOU WELL!  
Be on the lookout for a  follow-up to this story in the next month or so...

The Little Refugee Part 2

With the backdrop of an "Expert Panel" nominated by the Australian Government, examining what can be done about boatloads of arrivals of asylum seekers, here is the next snippet of a refugee's settlement process, as viewed by his English teacher.
The young monk began to learn English with great enthusiasm. He arrived the first morning with his exercise book from the camp. He showed pages of copied text:-
The book is on the table.The book is under the table...

Each sentence was rewritten many times. So he had had some exposure to the English language. But I'm not sure how much if any, he understood. However, he applied himself to learning, with the goal of proficiency one day. It soon showed that he was practising everything at home, and rote learning huge chunks of language. But it takes time to perceive the new sounds of a language, particularly one that would not have been heard often (Australian accent)in his early life. He was studying many hours a day from the beginning, and soon built up knowledge of the language which outdid his fellow students, even those from more educated backgrounds. But he lacked the opportunities to converse in English, in uncontrived settings. This was largely because he was a monk, and therefore couldn't take part in the social opportunities oferred through footy or music.

He also faced a dilemma often seen when helpers work closely with a new arrival:- there comes a point when the habits and lifestyle of the helper are not able to be adopted by the learner- because the helper is typically affluent, and the learner as yet unemployed. From the beginning, male volunteers could go shopping or paying bills with the monk, until he became familiar with the process. But when it comes to choices of product in the supermarket, and he asks which oil to buy, do we show him the one we buy, or the cheapest one? Too much choice is confusing... He had limited funds. I wonder what he thought of the people who tried to help his little group of settlers? Were his people treated with dignity at all times? They had already lived for many years in a camp where choice had been taken away... Were we perpetuating that unwittingly? Were they herded from department to department because the government or a helper thought they should be..?  

First day of a new life...

I know the Department of Immigration has changed its stance somewhat, by giving new arrivals a say in whether they want some of the "non-essential" services like dental, whereas a few years ago appointments were made automatically for them. However, this group was compliant and agreeable, as culture dictated, and at least they did receive some basic dental checks!

There were many good moments also. Delight showed on the monk's face when he was introduced to the treasures and bargains of the local second-hand bookshop. He devoured books from the library,with no worries about going to the children's section to sift out the simpler texts. He developed a taste for geography, and the maps that were a real mystery to him at the beginning soon came alive for him. His mind was like a dry sponge each morning, soaking up and filtering new information. He walked everywhere around town and soon became a recognised figure in his saffron robes. He sees humor in many situations, and his familiar laugh is a tonic to all around him. One day we were doing a class exercise which involved a lot of walking around and asking questions, and it was very noisy. When I wanted to call things to a halt I had trouble being heard. He got up, came to the middle of the class, and said "Shut up!" in a quiet but commanding voice. Everyone stopped in shock, and he laughed at his instant success!

One day we all caught the local bus, and went round and round til we knew where the nearest bus stops were, and which stop each family needed to get on and off. The bus has a rising platform for people with a wheelchair or pram, and this was initially quite scary for people who had no prior experience of using transport. From that, the monk progressed and was soon travelling unaided  right into Melbourne, (with bus changes as there is no direct bus), and experiencing the delights of the Aquarium and Museums.