Helping out with Habitat for Humanity

Our Big Expat Adventure

When we moved I was very keen to do some sort of volunteer work, but somehow almost three years have gone by and I hadn’t found a good fit. Riding for the Disabled is popular but when you don’t like horses it’s probably not a great idea. I met with the Women’s Council with a view of doing some computer tutoring, but the other tutors had trouble understanding my accent so I didn’t think I would add any benefit to the organisation.

A couple of weeks back a notice popped into my Facebook feed that the parents’ association at the girls’ school was after volunteers for a one day Habitat for Humanity project.

And so it was that I spent the past Tuesday cleaning up a hoarded one-room flat for a family who were unable to bring their newborn daughter/grand-daughter home from hospital until their dwelling was in a better…

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The Expat Guess Who?

Our Big Expat Adventure

The husband and I were sitting in Bussorah Street devouring a delicious lamb pide and observing the passing crowd. Ladies wandered pass in headscarves, brushing shoulders with backpackers wearing not much at all, who were walking alongside men on their way to the mosque for evening prayers. As the crowd moved along we spotted a couple, and the husband and I looked at each other and simultaneously mouthed ‘Australians’ to each other.

I’m in the process of writing a university assignment centred around national identity and I’ve been struggling to define what Australian national identity is but, somehow, I can usually spot my own countrymen in a crowd with above average accuracy. The only sure-fire identifiers are Southern Cross tattoos or a football jersey (from any code!), and maybe the wearing of rash shirts when swimming but the other clues are less objective. More ‘the vibe’ of the people. Perhaps…

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