Everyone wants to migrate for a better future, but is the grass greener on the other side? wonders Kerry-Ann Augustin
MANY of us think about a better place; clean air, less crime, a stable economy, a more transparent bureaucracy, uncorrupted politicians, better education for our children and equal opportunities irrelevant of colour or creed — these are same reasons why a large number people all over the globe have been migrating for centuries. These are the same reasons why some of our ancestors made long, painful journeys to Malaya. And these are the same reasons why many modern Malaysians think of migrating.
“Everybody who comes here is armed with a set of hopes and expectations of a better life,” says Ken Soong, who has been living in Australia since 2004. Together with his brother Michael, they wrote Migrating To Australia Good Meh???, a book that chronicles the Soongs’ experiences as new migrants down under. The pages, which are filled with topics and insights ranging from culture to the economy are candid but possess a heavy-handed reality-check for Malaysians who are thinking about making the big leap.
“Being migrants ourselves, we wanted others to make a more informed decision about moving here.”
Both brothers were studying in Australia prior to migrating. But unknown to them, student life in Australia and the life of a migrant are drastically different. “One of the main reasons why we wrote the book is because we realised that most people still perceive Australia as a good place to live, a better place, a better country and society. Migrants who go back for holidays or work trips to Malaysia seem to forget the realities when they relate their experiences to friends and relatives back home.”
The realities Ken is referring to are the issues plaguing Australia, including a bruised economy, less than perfect policies made by the less than perfect politicians that put them in place, and the tough road of survival for migrants and their families.
AN EDUCATION
“As a parent, you do what is best for your kids,” Denny Liew, a father of two tells me. “I feel at ease that my children are safe. That doesn’t mean there is no crime here at all. I don’t have to worry about them when they want to play in the park opposite the house,” says Liew, who moved to Melbourne with his family nearly three years ago. He is one of the many, many Malaysians who have chosen to migrate to Australia.
In 2011, World Bank’s senior economist Phillip Schellekens pointed out that Malaysia was suffering a severe brain drain as migration of skilled Malaysians have tripled over the last 20 years; almost a million Malaysian professionals are now working overseas.
“Most migrants in their 30s and 40s migrate for the sake of their children,” the Soong brothers write. “Migrants must make sure their children benefit from Australian education since they are putting on the back burner their own successful careers, or second careers, or the fulfilling lifestyle of the so-called work-life balance.”
Liew is one of these migrants. A certified accountant with over 20 years of experience, including a nine-year stint in London, says he had to unlearn everything. “I was told by my migration agent to expect lower-paying, menial jobs when I migrate to Australia. Everything I knew, cannot pakai (use),” he sniggers.
At age 48, Liew is going to accounting classes, doing assignments - equipping himself with the necessary skills to use his knowledge to make a living. “My sons deserve a good education. They are taught to use critical thinking at a young age here. I couldn’t imagine them having to wait until they were in university to start learning how to think that way,” he says, adding that at his age, his children’s education is more important than his job. “Of course it is frustrating. You have a good job in Malaysia and you come here and you are nothing. But you’ve got to survive.
Adding, he confides: “To be honest, job-wise, opportunities are much better in Malaysia. And there, we can afford to dine out. It’s not the same here - the cost of living is very high, what more for a family? We live moderately, but I clock off work at 4.30pm, so I have lots of family time,” he says, of the trade-off. Then Liew is pensive for a moment - he tells me he hopes to return to Malaysia someday “When I say I am going home, people say “Melbourne?” I say, “No, Malaysia.” “It’s still my home and I still love my country very deeply.”
UNLEARN AND RELEARN
In 2005, Kristin Anne Kunasingam bid a tearful farewell to her closest friends and family at KLIA before departing for Australia to finish her degree but Kunasingam never thought that would be a life-changing trip. “Before graduation, the opportunity to stay on was made available to me and I thought why not for a while? Each year I added on made it a little harder to return back to Malaysia,” says Kunasingam, who now calls Sydney home. “Retrospectively, quality of life and opportunities were key to the choices. If I have children one day, I want these same things for them.”
But starting a new life wasn’t the easiest of things, even for the outgoing and outspoken Kunasingam. “The most difficult part was living away from everything you had learnt was ‘normal’, and then re-learning the new normal. It is the things that you do not think about that you have to reconsider — services, food, and most importantly, your family and friends.”
A NEW PLACE, A NEW LIFE
Leaving friends behind was something Alvin Vun had to learn the hard way at age 16 when his family migrated from Kota Kinabalu to Brisbane. Like Liew, Vun’s parents saw Australia as a better environment for their young son. “My parents explained that I would have a better education and career.”
Vun, now 31, explains: “At first I was pretty excited at the thought of going overseas, but when the day came for me to leave, I took it pretty hard as I realised that I’d be missing a lot of friends. In the first few months after my arrival in Australia, I kept wishing I was back home.”
The Vuns had a rough start to their new life. “It was actually pretty difficult for me. I attended a local state high school in Brisbane for two years and struggled to fit in socially as the culture is very different,” he says, but adds that he had never been bullied in the multi-cultural school he was placed in.
Vun’s parents had difficulties finding jobs, but he attributes their eventual success to their perseverance. Nowadays, as Australia grapples with immigration issues, Vun, who is starting a family of his own, sees migrant families under a different light. “I think it made me realise that those who migrate want a better future for their families. And parents will always sacrifice their resources and their lives in hopes of a better future for their children.”
Although Liew, Kunasingam and Vun are happy where they are, all three share one perspective, which Vun aptly sums up as “being prepared for some major changes”.
THE MISSING LINK
“No matter how many frequent flyer points I have racked up...” Kunasingam tells me, “it is the people from home I miss the most.”
For the Liew family, making a trip back to Malaysia at least once a year is a must. “Family and friends,” Liew sighs, “they were the hardest part of making this decision to leave - so that’s why we go back either for Christmas or Chinese New Year. I don’t want the boys to forget their roots and the rest of their family.”
For Ken and Michael Soong, the story is a little different: “When we newly arrived, we had older migrants asking us why we migrated,” Ken says. “We could not understand why they asked such a thing. But now, we do.”
If there’s one person that understands this, it’s Leon Rodrigues, a Sarawakian who used to work odd jobs in Perth. “I went to Australia to study and I liked it so much I applied for permanent residency. But when I started living there, I soon realised it wasn’t the same thing,” he reveals. “Some things look better on paper but it isn’t always the case.” Rodrigues, who has moved back to Malaysia for good says we sometimes don’t know how good we have it till we leave our Malaysian lives, a sentiment shared by the Soong brothers.
“Malaysians receive something which Australia does not offer — in Malaysia, it feels like we are a community. I know it isn’t perfect — our country has its flaws but think about our lives here: the cheap food, the fusion of different cultures in various states, the ability to shop anytime we want, the freedom to eat anytime we want,” he says, a smile audible in his voice. “Think about it. Cheap flights to almost anywhere in the world, the beautiful weather, islands, mountains , jungles and the most beautiful neighbouring countries anyone country could ask for.”
In an open letter on their blog to all Malaysians, the brothers write a sad but telling note: “We left in 2004, burnt our bridges, sold our properties, left our careers in Malaysia only to realise that the only person who can give us a better future is ourselves and not any particular government in any particular country.”
I guess, just how green the grass is on the other side, depends on which patch of grass you look at.