I’ve been kind of uninspired to write recently. In fact I start with a few sentences and then suddenly my focus is drawn somewhere else and then I don’t even care about what I’m writing about any more.
I’m thinking about my style of travel, of life compared to everyone else. You see I’ve been hanging out with a lot of Iranians lately. Yes they are all refugees but recently released and living in Darwin. In Iran your social status is very important, most will go to school to become engineers or doctors which in fact means that there are a lot of unemployed doctors & engineers in Iran.
One particular Persian I have been spending some time with is Hossein he is a motorcycle mechanic. His father is a very famous poet in Iran. When Hossein decided to become a mechanic his family frowned upon him. To say your son is a mechanic let alone a motorcycle mechanic is socially embarrassing for the family. But Hossein told me that he didn’t want to have an education and no job so he decided to be a mechanic. Really what is the point of telling people that you’re a doctor if you are not doing anything with it?
In Australia being a mechanic is quite an achievement and I told Hossein this! We pride ourselves on our tradesmen. No wonder doctors & engineers are in such short supply when we are so enthusiastic about mechanics!!! You can be a mechanic on a mine site and earn more than a doctor with less education & stress!!!
So in Iran social standing, income etc is very important how much money you make is really a big deal to them. It must be hard for them to come to Australia with these incredible educations and have to work as taxi drivers just to make ends meet.
And then you have me, I’m spending time with these guys who will give me the shirt off their back just to prove they have some kind of social standing and yet money has always been a moot point for me. I used to think I cared about that sort of stuff the house, the 2.4 children etc but after going through my partners suicide life really becomes so temporary.
For me ultimately life is about being happy and as long as you aren’t hurting anybody else than your happiness should be number one. Perhaps this is why I sympathise with “boat people” and their reasoning behind the journey to Australia I mean who are we to judge when everything for us is so easy? Don’t they have a right to be happy as well.
But travelling for me is also the same, im not into the fivestar hotels, guided tours, top rated resturants. I am more likely to have a better time sleeping on the floor of some random local following them to some obscure adventure in the woods and finishing up with a local meal at their friends house. Maybe that thing I ate that was given to me by that random guy was deep fried cockroache or I don’t even know where the fuck I am the next morning as I crawl bleary eyed out of a tent not recognising the five people passed out beside me. Or maybe I have no money because the closest ATM is miles away and I gave my last 10 bucks to the bartender for a round of beer with my new found associates who names I can’t remember but im fairly certain one of them had a monkey.
So I’m sitting at my 8:24-5 job and then I head off to university so I can get some paper to get a better 8:25-5 job. My office is huge, my boss is awesome, I love the work I do. But a little piece of me inside is kind of wishing I could be somewhere… anywhere where I don’t need anything.