Immigration museum, running in the dark, and other tales

The darkest day of the year has come and gone, and we are still here in Melbourne. 

I had a personal goal to run once around the Tan Track -- a track that used to be used for horse racing, and encircles the Botanic Gardens, cuts past the Shrine of Remembrance, before twisting to run along the river.  I've been training a bit in the mornings, running before breakfast in the park behind our house.  Last weekend I did the run from our house, up to the Tan Track, around it once, and back.  I did it!  But I think I'm going to have to give up running -- it is too dark.

Winter. 

Although the grass is still green, and many of the trees are evergreen, and even on "cold" days the temperature stays well above freezing, the sun knows that it's winter in Melbourne.  The sun doesn't come up until after 8am, and it is gone again by 5:30pm.  I started running a couple of months ago at 6:30am, until it became too dark for that.  Then I went at 7am.  Then even 7:30.  But I can't push it later -- Jonathan has to go to school, and I have to get to work.  So either I stop, or I run in the dark. I am tired of running in the dark.  Perhaps I'll just walk to and from work for exercise from now on -- one hour each way -- and save on the last of my tram fares, too.

Today we visited the Immigration Museum, in an old building in the Central Business District, near the river, that used to be the Customs House.  The museum contained photographs and stories of immigrants, including many video interviews.  It was interesting to hear the stories.  One clip showed a man from Nigeria, who said that he felt so restricted when he moved to Australia.  In his country, people like to party.  And they just throw their garbage anywhere.  But in Australia, there are red lid bins, yellow bins for recycling, blue bins for common rubbish -- and so many rules!  The rules bothered him a lot when he first moved here. 

Me, I think I feel the opposite.

Here are some of the rules in Australia.

It is mandatory to vote in Australia.  If you don't vote in an election, you are fined. 

Why does that sound like such a good idea?  Oh, I know why.  In my home town in the US, last Tuesday, there was an election to determine county government.  From the news, I read that there was only a 7% voter turnout.  And the freak candidate?  The guy nobody would endorse because he ran on a platform of cluelessness and anti-federal land?  He was the winner, over the guy who actually knew what the county government position entailed.  But who am I to complain?  I didn't vote.  Not even an absentee ballot.  I wasn't eligible -- the election was for Republicans only.  Perhaps this is reason to become Republican.  And perhaps this is reason to favor mandatory voting, because I doubt that my reasonable Republican neighbors would have voted for that guy had they bothered. 

Back to Australia, and its rules and regulations, there is also mandatory retirement savings.  Everyone must contribute 9% of each paycheck to their own retirement fund.  A lot?  Perhaps.  And this on top of national health insurance.  But it means the sick and the elderly are well cared for. 

And a recent article from CNN money shows that Australians have the 2nd highest average net worth out of 20 wealthy countries (after Switzerland) and the very highest median net worth of all.  In other words, your average Australian, and your median Australian, is financially well off.  It is a wealthy land.

The gun laws in Australia are strict.  When a shooter killed dozens of people in Port Arthur, Tasmania, in the 1990s, the government immediately banned many kinds of weapons, and raised 500 million dollars to buy them back from its citizens and destroy them.  Today, there is not much violent crime in Australia, compared to similar sized populations elsewhere.  Correlation or causation?

Bicycle helmets have been mandatory since 1990.  If you don't wear a helmet, police can stop you and fine you $176.

And so on.


I think the Nigerian from the film in the Immigration Museum was right.  Vitoria, Australia is a place with a lot of rules.  It's a place where people make rules prohibiting poor choices when they get tired of paying for the poor choices that their neighbors make.  And having lived here for six months, it's a wonderful place to live.  Safe.  Clean.  Friendly. 

Our time here is coming to a close, although we still have a few weeks.  But already the friends we have made are beginning to wish us a prolonged goodbye.  At church, they're looking for a new pianist to take my place, and Tim has finished his church teaching job.  Jonathan's best friend at school left a week ago to spend the winter holidays in Russia, and Jonathan won't see him again before we leave.  "Any chance you can stay longer?" people have been asking.  At church, at school, our realtor.

It was interesting to see the Immigration Museum this morning from the perspective of one who cannot stay, who cannot make Melbourne home at this time.  It was sad, actually.  The work hours have been horrible for Tim, but even he says he could make the hours work, if we could stay longer.  The friendliness of the people, the mildness of the weather, the beauty of the country, the health and safety we feel living here have been worth the initial upheaval.  But I don't have a job in Melbourne. 

Alas, staying isn't an option. 

So you, dear reader, can enjoy a few more weeks of prolonged goodbyes, with us.