Christmas 2011: Joseph, Cottesloe Beach, Western Australia

I met Joseph down on Cottesloe Beach pier where he was fishing with two other friends.  He’s from Iran and has been in Australia for some time and now is a naturalised Australian.  I asked him how he had adjusted to living in Australia and how he found his new home.

He had a couple of comments.  He was extremely thankful to Australia for his sons: they have jobs, have money, and most importantly they have a future.  “But what about you?” I ask.  He put down his rod, sat down on a rock and looked deeply into my eyes.  Those eyes, set so deep in his face, and thick but soft grey hair and moustache set an emotional backdrop so deep I was transfixed.  It was sad, happy, nostalgic, hopeful, and understanding all in one.  Perhaps an emotion I didn’t even know.

“It’s … hard.  Very hard to get used to Australia.  Beautiful country, but I feel so… far away.  And I can’t work: bad back. Arthritis.” He pulled down his shirt collar and pointed to scars on his neck.  The way he said it and the look in his eyes told me the gravity of this situation to him.

“I’ve had operations at St. Charles, doctor: no fix.  Very far away from home… And Australia is so … so … different.” His face changed a little and became a little sadder, like a candle was flickering a little with a brush of wind nearby.

I was amazed.  He was probably at near retirement age, but really wanted to work, and felt terrible that he couldn’t.  He also told me even though he was Australian, he felt like a foreigner here.  Being Australian myself but of Chinese descent, I knew exactly how that feels.

“But… here, I’m Muslim, my wife Christian, my friends from all different religions. There are no fights, no wars, so much … (stops) … so nice.  Not many people understand that this is special.”

His eyes teared up a little and he looked out into the ocean into the direction of home.  It was easy because it was out there, west, past the setting sun.  I looked out there too, as France was only just beyond what he was looking at.  And in a couple of days I’d have to go back.

I asked him if I could take a photo of him.  He immediately told me that he wanted his wife in the photo.  As I framed it up, I thought to ask him to crouch down to the same eye level as his wife or to get his wife to stand up – but with his bad back and his wife settled in her chair, I thought against this.  But he looked at me like he did before we started talking, so I tripped the shutter.

So there he is, standing proud, with those eyes that tell you so much.  Telling you what understanding, persistence, and happiness is.  He’s next to his wife who he left Iran for.  And there she is, by his side, as she had been for the fishing outing, looking out over the ocean, and watching the sunset out west. 

For this festive season, I hope you all have a safe and happy time with your families and friends, whether you are together or apart.  I’m hoping the best for Joseph and his family, and I think in some ways, meeting him and hearing his story was my present for this year.