“Landcare saved me” by Selen Rifat
I came to Australia as a migrant child in the ‘70s, the daughter of parents who were both the youngest in their families. After being displaced in their homeland, leaving behind farms and homes, they took a courageous step and travelled half way around the world to settle in beautiful Melbourne and start life anew.
They struggled with language, dress standards, culture and food. Most was easy to substitute, but food brings a different level of comfort and security that other things perhaps don’t. They tried to find ingredients which where once very common to them, but now, not so common here. Lebanese cucumbers, fresh and sweet, coriander pungent and lush, beans not in cans nor in the freezer isle, and the gorgeous aroma of tomatoes straight from the vine.
I watched my parents, but especially my dad, who I thought could do anything, try to grow food in our back yard. After years of not tasting their familiar comforting flavours and the smells of their childhood homes. Mollohia (jewish marrow), Lebanese eggplants, luana (which to this day no one can tell us the Anglo name for it). Dads attempts in the garden where hit and miss. Despite these failures, as a child, I marvelled at the plants in our garden. The broadbeans and the corn taller than me, as I hid in them and daydreamed.
Years pass and my grandma, whom was like stranger to me, arrived in Australia. My Nene upon arriving in our home went straight to the garden, I saw her critic my dad’s garden, talking about wrong place, not good enough soil and poor pruning. How could she speak to him like that?!
I watched over the coming months in astonishment as she took over and made the garden flourish. I spent hours with her as she talked about the properties of each plant, her gentle hand turning dust into living soil. Here I discovered the calming effect of dirt in my nails, and the preciousness of trees.
Fast forward many years to my adulthood, I did not take up a career in the thing that brought me deep happiness. My mother the daughter of a poor farmer who insisted on marrying a city boy would have been devastated for all the sacrifices she had made for her children, for them to now go on to be a farmer also. She wanted loftier and educated careers for us, so I pursued what I thought would make them happy. I packed away those musing of a career on the land, thinking a Muslim woman would find it hard to navigate the challenges and be accepted for what I am. It all seemed too daunting.
Now a parent myself, the years have flown by, I find myself reflecting. I did the crazy corporate world gig, the self-employed boss gig, I have come full circle. I find myself returning to a place that I knew I always belonged. It took a tragedy for us to sell up, relocate and find a new home. But most importantly I found a better me. I heard the birds calling, the trees rustling their beautiful song, the Earth’s ancient smell, and I found a childhood treasure stored away, now rediscovered.
Being older I can handle the odd stares, the polite but inevitable question “where are you really from?” I am strong enough to not feel I need to stick around for the after-event drinks, and politely ask in which area I can pray. Despite the culture of rural friends being so different from mine, it is a childhood familiarity which I now realise is intertwined in my culture too.
And how did I come to join Landcare? I hit the ground running, wrote to several Landcare organisations, before I had even moved into my new home. No one replied…
Then to the rescue came the Strath Creek Landcare group.
Nestled in a breathtaking little corner of the world, between its multitude of hills and valleys, I was embraced. By the members, by the countryside, and by its beauty. I have found that the knowledge, commitment, and infectious wonder of the Australian bush of SCLG felt like home. My new home.
Talks on fox trapping, fish species, rivers and birds, orchids, solar power and night walks. Fence repairs, blackberries, farm safety and volunteer corporate groups. The world was growing again, opening up, and giving me room to breathe.
Terry’s booming voice, Susan’s amazing smile, David and Laurie always looking out for me at each and every event, making sure I have something to eat and somewhere to pray. Mark’s jokes, Kate and Ron’s calming friendliness and let us not forget the wonderful Sonia who suggestion and support sparked my adventure. This awesome, and yes awe-inspiring group of people save this precious Earth one tree at a time, one workshop, Clean up Australia day at a time. But most importantly, they saved me…
They saw someone who loves the Earth. All of it. Preservation, rehabilitation, conservation, and vegetation. They did not see the veil on my head, nor the differences of faith or philosophy. But they saw the person inside.
I eagerly await the next event to share cakes and kebabs, preserves and plants. But most importantly, to share humanity under the wide blue skies, and the grey blue Australian landscapes, thousands of years old, this wide brown land for me.
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