Childhood on Christmas Island
Lee Fong is fair-skinned and looked typically of southern Chinese origin, but little did I know at first her Christmas Island, Indian Ocean roots until she captivated us with accounts of her childhood and early teenage years. Having come from another tropical isle, Penang, I was soon caught up with vistas and vibes of her experiences on another isle where time seemed to stand still and where the rhythm of life was almost magical, compared to the pace demanded of the denizens of Australia's capital cities.
Foong talked about the Governor's residence on Christmas Island, a usual focal point of authority and elegance in most far flung British colonies, a symbol of London's presence occupied by a distinguished government servant. What caught my imagination better was the episode when a cousin sister had her
boat swaying on heavy ocean waves, the contraption pitted against the nearby rock faces and how Fong and her sibling atop the cliffs could sense the rising risk and danger below. Fong reminded us that her parents did not know of this particular incident. Those on the land side did eventually rescue their relatives floating on the turbulent sea.
There were so many bright red crabs prowling on the land, that no human being on Christmas Island could avoid, and which many took for granted. It was a pitiful sight when many of such crustaceans found themselves inevitably overturned, stuck in a position that neither meant forward not backward. I was reminded of lemmings and the instinctive push to migrate and cross over the path of others. Fong reiterated that these crabs did not look attractive enough to be eaten by humans, but what a spectacle they caused intruding on to compounds, houses and roads.
Christmas Island is also a transit point for migrating birds flying between the Australian sub-continent and the varied landscapes of South-east Asia. This made me finally realise why the place had so much phosphate reserves - it was the biggest travel terminal in the life cycle of such winged creatures. An isle in the middle of seemingly nowhere, it still held a strategic role not just for those travelling by air, but also for humans venturing out south from India and Indonesia. Now we know why this island played a role in recent times in the arrival, containment and processing of human boat cargo trying to reach Australia.
Foong has long migrated to the suburbs of Perth, having gone to attend senior high school there, plucked away from the relatively carefree days under coconut palms and a sense of real adventure. She does recognise that her parents had to work hard, but as part of the group of children then, it was an enjoyable time of life, to soak in the salty air of ocean breezes, equatorial rainy downpours and a whole world to explore after school hours. Do children in the suburbs of Australian conurbations really have a better life?
Foong talked about the Governor's residence on Christmas Island, a usual focal point of authority and elegance in most far flung British colonies, a symbol of London's presence occupied by a distinguished government servant. What caught my imagination better was the episode when a cousin sister had her
boat swaying on heavy ocean waves, the contraption pitted against the nearby rock faces and how Fong and her sibling atop the cliffs could sense the rising risk and danger below. Fong reminded us that her parents did not know of this particular incident. Those on the land side did eventually rescue their relatives floating on the turbulent sea.
There were so many bright red crabs prowling on the land, that no human being on Christmas Island could avoid, and which many took for granted. It was a pitiful sight when many of such crustaceans found themselves inevitably overturned, stuck in a position that neither meant forward not backward. I was reminded of lemmings and the instinctive push to migrate and cross over the path of others. Fong reiterated that these crabs did not look attractive enough to be eaten by humans, but what a spectacle they caused intruding on to compounds, houses and roads.
Christmas Island is also a transit point for migrating birds flying between the Australian sub-continent and the varied landscapes of South-east Asia. This made me finally realise why the place had so much phosphate reserves - it was the biggest travel terminal in the life cycle of such winged creatures. An isle in the middle of seemingly nowhere, it still held a strategic role not just for those travelling by air, but also for humans venturing out south from India and Indonesia. Now we know why this island played a role in recent times in the arrival, containment and processing of human boat cargo trying to reach Australia.
Foong has long migrated to the suburbs of Perth, having gone to attend senior high school there, plucked away from the relatively carefree days under coconut palms and a sense of real adventure. She does recognise that her parents had to work hard, but as part of the group of children then, it was an enjoyable time of life, to soak in the salty air of ocean breezes, equatorial rainy downpours and a whole world to explore after school hours. Do children in the suburbs of Australian conurbations really have a better life?
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