My Story
Was leaving our country for a new life the right decision?
Lorella D’Cruz enjoys travel, classical music, Scrabble and cryptic crosswords. A few years ago she visited India with her family, including six grandchildren, all of whom were captivated by their vast and varied Indian cultural heritage.
A MOMENT OF WILD PANIC came over me as our aircraft prepared to descend. Our decision to migrate to Australia in 1970 was a giant leap into the unknown. My husband, Arnold, had come four months earlier, securing employment in his IT field, and setting up a home for our family. All the same, I was filled with trepidation when I joined him in Melbourne on that cold blustery late-autumn night, our two little girls, aged three and four in tow, rubbing their eyes in sleepy bewilderment after a long flight from Bombay.
My concerns were momentarily set aside, of course, in the unmitigated joy of being reunited as a family.
We had left behind a very comfortable life in India – an arguably class-ridden, inadequate system that sheltered its middle classes from the drudgeries of everyday living, so that I had never had to cook, clean or do a load of washing. But, in the words of Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan, the times they were a-changin’, and we had to seriously weigh our options. India’s burgeoning population threatened to limit the availability of university placements, job openings and housing for the next generation, our own children.
Australia, on the other hand, was touted as the land of opportunity, and was in its own interests looking to boost its sparse population and labour force. Why not take our chances? we figured. Then we examined the cons. The ’70s was an era when the world was not the melting pot of cultures it is today; and, we reminded ourselves, our new country had not, from all accounts, totally dismantled its ‘White Australia’ policy. There was enough reason for massive doubt as to the wisdom of our move.
I vividly remember, as if it were yesterday, arriving at our new home on that bitterly cold night in May – bitterly cold, at any rate, by contrast with Bombay’s 35–38°C temperature at that time of year. Minutes after we put down our bags, the doorbell rang and there stood a parishioner from the local church that my husband had joined. At that point I was too emotionally exhausted to exchange small talk with a total stranger – but she was not there to make small talk. She waited only long enough to drop off a piping hot roast dinner for our first night in our new homeland.
I can still feel the outpouring of warmth and gratitude that surged
through my inner being in that moment, her kind gesture touching me to the core. I knew in that instant that my husband had found us the perfect community in which to raise our young family.
From that day to this, we’ve never looked back. To think I had been agonising for months over how racism might rear its ugly head in our daily lives – and then, in a moment, all our misgivings had been erased, thanks to the kindness of a good Samaritan.
Of course, there were a few ‘surprises’ to come to terms with over the next few weeks. Arriving in Australia from a so-called ‘third-world’ country, we expected a certain level of home comforts, and were a little taken aback by the lack of some of the most basic amenities. We had to make do with a couple of small electric heaters, no running hot water and – incredibly – an outdoor toilet! However, the warmth of its people more than compensated for the chill of that first winter.
At first, we actually missed the blare of taxi horns and the clamorous throngs milling about the streets of Bombay from dawn till midnight. Essendon seemed eerily silent and devoid of life, by contrast. However, I had only to walk down the street to know we were ‘home’: complete strangers smiled, and waved a friendly greeting, and asked after our family. We were welcome, we belonged. It had taken but one act of kindness on the part of a virtual stranger to dispel my every last foreboding.
I realise that times have changed and that economic realities are different today; but I hope with all my heart that the innate generosity of spirit that imbues the Australian psyche will never be extinguished, and that today’s migrants will experience – as we did – the genuine warm-heartedness and friendliness of its people, many of whose own parents were migrants.
I optimistically suggest that these new arrivals will in turn be moved to make their own contribution of goodwill to the next wave of newcomers to our shores.
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Arriving in Australia from a so-called ‘third world’ country, we expected a certain level of home comforts