Expats vs Ingrates?

Just as we were starting to think that Australia has largely beaten Covid, the past few weeks has seen the topic heat up again on a number of fronts, especially the thorny issue of border control.

First, a series of community outbreaks in and around Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne were all traced back directly or indirectly to returning overseas travellers. This again brought the hotel quarantine programme into the spotlight – and given the poor record of Victoria’s HQP management (which led to the Stage 4 lock-down for much of last year, as well as causing several hundred deaths among aged care residents), State Governments are under increased scrutiny not to stuff it up (again).

Second, there are something like 35,000 Australian citizens living and working overseas who are still trying to get home. Since many of them are based in countries with escalating infection rates (and extra-contagious strains of Coronavirus), it’s no wonder there is a lot of circumspection about bringing them back in a hurry. While I have a lot of sympathy for those expats who are stranded overseas, at the same time, they went abroad by choice. There is always a risk that international travel can be disrupted, as we have witnessed with increased regularity over the past 20 years, thanks to terrorism, volcanoes, tsunamis and geopolitical events. However, this has not stopped some expats complaining that their fellow Australians don’t want them back; some have been highly critical of this “smug” attitude: “we’re all right, but you can stay away and fend for yourselves”.

Third, the latest domestic border closures left numerous Victorian residents stuck in NSW. Many of them had only recently managed to travel interstate for the holidays, having just emerged from months of local lock-down. No doubt some of those affected may have a bit more sympathy for those Australians stranded abroad?

Of course, all these border restrictions might not be so hard to stomach if we didn’t have the spectacle of professional sports players being flown in (specially from overseas) to hit a few balls around. The fact that one cohort of these international visitors has managed to bring Covid back into the country is not helping. Nor the fact that a few of these over-paid sports “stars” and their partners appear to be acting like spoiled brats as they endure quarantine in 5-star hotels…..

Talk about being ungrateful.

Next week: The Day That Can’t Be Named…

Notes from Phuket

Last week I was privileged to spend a few days in Phuket, for a wedding. The last time I was there (in early 2011, and for another wedding), I noticed the number of bars and shops that had added Russian to the list of languages on their signage and menus. This time, in the area where I was staying, all of the hoardings around the real estate developments were only written in English, Chinese and Russian – clearly a targeted marketing strategy for the new apartment blocks and resorts currently being built, and further evidence that the island is at something of an international cross-road, if not actual destination.

The wedding party itself was an international affair – guests had travelled from Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, Europe, US, Australia, Japan and Thailand itself. Moreover, the demographic was decidedly multicultural, and comprising mainly multiracial and inter-faith couples and families. Not surprising given that nearly all the guests were expats, most of whom had met while we were working in Hong Kong.

The truth is, all of us who were there are beneficiaries of globalisation – choosing to move around the world for work (and for love). Just the sort of gathering that would incur the disapproval and wrath of anti-globalists, racial purists, and religious fundamentalists. Most of them would hate the idea of such a global affair, given the current environment of nationalist, protectionist and segregationist politics that pervades much of the world (Brexit, Trump, Middle East…).

Although the prospect of Brexit was largely lamented by those in attendance, the bigger concern was of course about Hong Kong. While the latest and most dramatic phase of the popular protests there seems to have abated, and although the pro-democracy candidates dominated the recent local elections, there seems to a complete absence of political dialogue between the Hong Kong government and the protest movement.

One school of thought is that the Hong Kong government took it for granted that it could enact the proposed (and highly controversial) extradition Bill. It may have even convinced the Central Government in Beijing that the Bill could pass into Legislation unopposed. If so, that suggests a huge misjudgment and a lack of communication and consultation on all sides.

Of course, should the major experiment in political, economic and social integration (one country, two systems) that is the Hong Kong SAR fail, it will be a major obstacle to resolving the issue of Taiwan (for which it is supposed to have been designed). It would also represent a setback to the concepts of international co-operation, free trade and self-determination, within a framework of mutually recognised and respected co-existence between sovereign states.

Meanwhile, back in Phuket, it was great to sample some authentic Thai food, enjoy the glorious sunsets and embrace island time. Re-visiting Patong after more than 20 years revealed just how industrialised the island’s so-called entertainment area has become – but in the spirit of globalisation, multiculturalism and international trade, at least it doesn’t discriminate: everyone (and their money) is more than welcome!

Next week: The State of PropTech

 

 

Notes from Auckland

Over the past couple of years, I’ve been fortunate to make several trips to Auckland, as part of the work I do with Techemy and Brave New Coin. Although I had been to New Zealand a few times before these latest visits, it was only recently that I understood why Maori call it Aotearoa – “Land of the Long White Cloud” – as you can see from this photo I took from the office window.

To anyone from Australia who has spent time in New Zealand, it is quickly apparent that Maori culture and language are far more respected and recognised than idigenous identity is across the Tasman. From the bilingual signage and national anthem to the Haka performed prior to every All Blacks game, Maori identity is more visible and celebrated.

On my most recent visit a couple of weeks ago, this was reinforced during a guided tour of the University of Auckland’s art collection, as part of Artweek. First, the guide used Maori words for local place names. Second, he drew attention to some of the challenges that he and the other curators face when dealing with Taonga objects – which also opens up the debate about art vs craft. Third, he acknowledged that in his own early studies, he was influenced and even encouraged by his tutors to incorporate elements of Moari art into his own work – even though as someone of European (Pakeha) descent he did not really understand what these images represented. Finally, this form of appropriation can lead to questions about whether an artist’s identity (cultural or otherwise) should define their work and whether that work should only be interpreted through their identity. For example, can “maori art” only be produced by artists who are ethnically Moari? The artist Gordon Walters deployed images of Koru in his most famous work, which can divide critics and academics.

In many ways, Auckland is very similar to Sydney – both are their country’s largest city, but neither is the capital. Both are formed and defined by their respective harbours – and this in turn very much influences how people engage with their city: based on where they live, and their commute to work. Likewise, both Auckland (Albert Street) and Sydney (George Street) are trying to play catch-up with their public transport systems, which have not kept pace with the rate of urban and population growth. And, no doubt connected, both cities have very expensive property markets.

One of the things that I always notice in Auckland is how many buildings in the CBD are polyhedron in shape. Some of them even display an element of “Pacific Brutalism” which seems to be very popular in public and municipal architecture, from Hawaii to Singapore and beyond. It could be that polyhedral structures are more earthquake prone – or because Auckland is very hilly, giving rise to “creative” building designs.

To overcome the topography (and the limitations of the public transport system), a number of hire companies offer electric scooters for getting around the city. While it seems a great (and environmentally friendly) idea, the fact that there are no fixed pick-up and drop-off points, users can leave them anywhere – and many are even to be found lying across the pavement, causing something of an obstruction.

Finally, no visit to Auckland is complete without a ferry ride to Waihiki Island, for lunch and/or wine-tasting at one of the many cellar doors.

Next week: Startup Vic’s Pitch Night for Migrant and First Generation Founders

 

 

 

Musical Memories – Of Time and Place

Although sound is supposed to be the weakest sensory trigger for recalling memories, I suspect most of us can readily associate a song or a piece of music with a significant time, event or place we heard it. Indeed, music is often more evocative of our emotional response than either smell or taste, which at a primal level are readily connected with survival and self-preservation. (Music cannot kill or harm us, but poisonous or rancid food can.)

This thought occurred to me recently when I was on a weekend trip to the country with a group of friends. Sitting round the log fire under a starlit sky, The Doors’ “Riders on the storm” came on the streaming playlist. At that particular moment, it seemed an ideal setting to hear this track. Even though I have heard the song many times before, this latest airing has now created a new memory association – the time, the setting, the people I was with, the food and drink we enjoyed.

Of course, in this particular context, it also reminded me of the first time I consciously heard the record. As a young teenager in the mid-seventies, I used to fall asleep listening to my transistor radio, usually tuned into the original UK pirate station, Radio Caroline. Caroline mostly broadcast classic and progressive rock – often playing a whole album without interruption. It introduced me to a lot of bands and music I did not hear on Top 40 or daytime radio – so it was an important part of my musical education.

Road trips seem particularly adept at forming musical associations: in my case, a drive to the Yorkshire coast accompanied by a bootleg tape of the Beach Boy’s “Smile” sessions; a night time journey through the Anza-Borrego Desert, with the roof down, listening to Primal Scream’s “Screamadelica”; and just a couple of months ago, hearing the Pink Floyd song “Wish You Were Here” while touring part of the Croatian coast. Even though I was very familiar with those records before these particular journeys, the specific context of those trips means the music will forever be linked to the events.

I suspect this memory association is largely because our response to, and engagement with music is often dependent on our mood. If we are more alert to and in tune with our surroundings, this receptive state of mind leads us to make mental and emotional links via the accompanying musical soundtrack. These triggers mean that we are more able to recall or even replicate that mood via the use of the associated songs.

All this as The Beatles’ “Abbey Road” celebrates its 50th anniversary. As a child, this was the first Beatles album we had in our home. We already owned a number of their singles, which had a huge impact on my early listening adventures. But “Abbey Road” was probably the first album I really engaged with. Even now, there are large sections I can replay in my head. The song order is likewise entrenched, thanks to the format of the vinyl LP in the pre-shuffle and pre-streaming era. The cathartic extended coda of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” at the end of side 1, that gives way to the upbeat and optimistic “Here Comes The Sun” at the start of side 2. I have every expectation that when I next listen to “Abbey Road”, it will still trigger memories of my childhood and listening to the record with my older sisters.

Next week: School Reunion