Remember back in 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic was announced? When the Australian government locked its citizens out of the country and locked us up in hotels if we did manage to get home? And remember when they charged us $3,000 for quarantine – a public health measure – that they introduced? Remember? Well, the world might have moved on, but there are hundred of thousands of us who haven’t forgotten what the government did. We are still traumatised by what we had to do to get home, and by what happened to us in hotel quarantine. We are still
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Mandatory hotel quarantine was introduced by the Australian government in March 2020 as a public health measure in response to COVID-19. It was free for everyone returning from overseas or interstate until July 2020, at which time the government began charging $3000 per person. Listen to my podcast if you’d like to know what this policy decision did to ordinary Australians who were just trying to get home. It is my contention that this fee is unlawful and I wish to challenge the legality in court. There are thousands of us who feel the same way. This challenge will be
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This is new. Well, new as in I haven’t felt this happy and hopeful for a long time. From memory, the middle of 2018 was the last time. In 2018, I was living in Hanoi and my rose coloured glasses were still camouflaging the realities of living in a developing Asian country. I had not gone up against the Vietnamese Immigration industry. Yes, you read that correctly. Industry. I was hit with an administrative penalty because I trusted a “friend” with my business visa. It took a couple of years to sort out, and it was expensive. And awful. I
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My best friend, soul-mate and constant companion for the last 15 years died on Friday, 26 August at 7.15 PM. I had to make the difficult decision to put Bella to sleep because her kidneys had failed. It happened very quickly. To say I am heartbroken is an understatement. I am beyond devastated. Almost a month has passed since her death, and I am only just starting to function like a normal person. *** Bella had been off her “high value” food for a couple of days, refusing yoghurt and cheese, her absolute favourites – and where I hid her
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1. I’m still somewhat out of sorts. It’s got nothing to do with depression because I’m not depressed; I have no trouble getting out of bed, and there is no black cloud hanging over me. It’s got nothing to do with motivation either: I’m committed to being able to run at least five kilometres by the beginning of spring, and to that end, I head out three times per week, rain or shine, to make this happen. And I’m productive: law school has seen to that. I attend my lectures and workshops and submit my essays days ahead of the
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My darling daughter, On Mother’s Day, every year, I like to remember when you were born. You came into the world at 2:07 am on March 24, 1993. It was the happiest, most joyous, wonderful day of my life. When you were born, I held you in my arms—after a two-days-plus labour that ended in a Caesarian Section—and you looked up at me with your huge eyes, so peaceful. So calm. So trusting. I fell in love with you there and then. The truth is: I fell in love with you before you were born. I left your father when
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When it’s cold in Hanoi – the air weirdly humid and the moisture from the air collects on my face, which I blot with a serviette that leaves traces of delicate, white paper on my forehead and cheeks like freckles – the weather is perfect for soup. Actually, in Vietnam, any weather – hot, cold or in between – is good weather for soup. It soothes the body and nourishes the soul. And while I don’t eat phở (beef or chicken noodle soup) thanks to my pescetarian status, I did occasionally eat bún riêu (crab noodle soup sans the pork
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I spent most of last week, glued to Twitter and YouTube, cheering on Novak Djokovic as he took a stand against the Australian government, firstly via the Federal Circuit and Family Court, and then before a full bench of the Federal Court. He won his first case and his visa cancellation was overturned, but he was deported anyway a few days later, using legislation that allowed the Minister for Immigration, Alex Hawke, to exercise ‘God’ powers that were intended for terrorists, not tennis players. ‘I consider that Mr Djokovic’s presence in Australia may pose a health risk to the Australian community,
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A couple of days ago, I took an online writing workshop run by American writer, Vanessa Martir. I did a free workshop of hers a while back (and meant to double down with the paid version, but got distracted) and when this one popped up in my feed I signed up, not least because it wasn’t expensive (US$30) and I like the way she structures her classes. Vanessa sends through pre-class readings, which are discussed in the workshop and there are timed writing/thinking sessions to prompts (maximum of five minutes). Given that I’ve pretty much lost my mojo, I figured
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I’ve been to university three times in my life. Three times when I was at a crossroads, where investing in myself and reinventing who I was via learning seemed like the only way forward. The first time was in the late 1980s, at 26, when I was disillusioned with my banking career. The second time was just after I had my daughter at 29. The third time was at 44, when I broke up with the Italian. After the third time, I said that I would never undertake formal study again. Ever. And this was mainly because I didn’t want
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Today I went for a run. No big deal, I hear you say. People run all the time. The thing is: I haven’t gone running for 18 months. Not since I was in Hanoi. This pandemic (or rather, the government’s response to the pandemic) has sucked the productivity right out of me. I’ve had no goals and no direction because there’s so much uncertainty, particularly in Australia. Our leaders are drunk on power and – in their relentless and destructive pursuit of zero COVID – love to “snap” lock Australian borders and cities because of one freaking case, with the
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I had no clue I was dating a covert narcissist, mainly because my boundaries had been whittled away to nothing by the sense of opportunity and complacency I’d allowed myself to develop in Vietnam. I said yes to everything that crossed my path. I remember having a conversation with another expat about the type of men I was interested in, and I replied: I’m interested in men who are interested in me. No wonder I found myself in an emotional abusive situation. Love bombing, gaslighting, ignoring red flags, intermittent reinforcement, control and manipulation — this relationship had it all. I
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