A Response to Kidnapped by Ruperake Petaia

A Response to Kidnapped by Ruperake Petaia

This poem intrigued me a lot. I’ve always thought myself to be open-minded to the varying importance everyone places on different things. For some, religion is life – more than that, existence. For others, culture is an identity rather than a lifestyle. Me? I strive for Western ideals – education, wealth and all the future has to offer in terms of technology, medicine and entertainment.

I accept who I am grudgingly. However much money I own, it will always own me. No matter how many nice things I buy, it will never be enough. And I will happily waste thousands of dollars and four years of my life at university, because I’m too scared to do anything different.

Over the last year, I’ve contemplated the idea of education a lot. Personally, I think tribal people and anyone living “primitively” has got it right. A simple life of taking only what you need is it. I think we’d all be a lot happier doing it. You’re never going to think, “This is so dumb. Why am I doing this?” when you’re hunting down your dinner, or wonder “When is this ever going to be useful?” when you’re being taught to build a hut. And of course, there’s a certain pride in being able to completely fend for yourself.

In a first world country, we depend on a massive range of things. Sure I can solve an algebraic equation and send a message to the other side of the world and drive a car, but I wouldn’t last one day in the wild. Don’t get me wrong, education is undoubtedly the reason why humans are so advanced. We’re the smartest things on the planet, by a tenfold. But the more we learn, the more complicated everything becomes. No one can deny that a life of simplicity would be so much easier. But fulfilling? That’s debatable.

I still see education’s worth though – it’s beautiful, in some aspects. Knowledge is interesting and great and limitless. We’ve found out so much about ourselves and the world we live in because of it. However, I do see Petaia’s point. I don’t think education (or anything really, for that matter) should ever be forced on anyone. It has a different worth to different people, which some (like my father) simply can’t understand. I think it’s extremely ignorant to judge someone’s worth and intelligence by the lack or kind of education they’ve received.

In short, I think Petaia’s poem could share a lot of light on the importance of education – and how it’s not necessary, as many people think, or always right for someone.

My People

My People

My people are not

The ones who have

A piece of shiny paper

Stamped with the word “citizen”

My people are

The ones who dye

Their hair vibrant colours

And swear far too much

My people are not

The ones who were

Born in the same

Vicinity as me

My people are

The ones who argue

For hours on the same side

And mix pizza and alcohol

My people are not

The ones who died

Hundreds of years ago

Who I never met

My people are

The ones who talk

In a secret language

They made up without meaning to

My people are not

The ones who have

The same name as mine

Or the same nose or lips

My people are

The ones who share

An affinity with me

By choice

My people are

The ones I look

At and say

Those are my kind of people

I remember, I remember by Dee Dee Htun

A Rensponse to I, remember, I remember by Prem Banfal

I remember, I remember

I remember some of the events that happened to me and my family before we came to new zealand.  I remember a river so clean and shallow you can drink from it and walk across it to the other side of the river. My brother nearly drowning on one part of the river because there was a deep hole that we didn’t know about. I remember my mum jumping into the river to help my little brother and rescue him. My father would sometime come down to the river with us to bath along side us and afterward he would swing us high onto his shoulder and carried us back home. The village beside the river was peaceful and we had a lot of fun staying there and going to school. In our country some of the people would eat betel nut and one of my friend would usually eat it raw. One day she came to school and she spew out a white worm that was inside her. It was so gross most of us screamed. I think that where my phobia of worm started.

Since we are refugee we usually have to run from one place to another. That village was one of the village where we stayed for a couple of months before the soldier would come and then we would had to pack up and leave to another. I remember my parents shaking us awake in the middle of the night and they were already packed. The took our hands and lead us out into the night. I can't remember what happen afterward.

I remember after we left the village we made a border cross into thailand. I don't remember much that event but I remember my parents separating so that my dad would go into thailand illegally to work then he would call us up. My brother was the first to go then it was me. I remember riding on the back of a motorcycle being transported to where my father lived. Afterward my mum follow us and we stay at an apartment in thailand. We would move from one apartment to another. I think most of the place was provided to us by my father and mother friends who lived in Thailand. While we were in thailand we were told not to go outside just incase the police saw us and catch us.  I remember we at this apartment for awhile then one day the police came for us. I can't remember why but now that i think about it someone must have tipped them off. We were sent to jail for a month, I’m not so sure about it.  After that month we were released into the UN care where they put us into a refugee camp. We stayed at the first refugee camp for a few years then we got moved to another refugee camp where we stayed there before we came to new zealand. We had fun at the second refugee camp. We had a school where we went to and we had an American missionary who teaches us english. I hated going to the english school. I can't remember why i hated that school.

At the second refugee camp we were the first refugee there so there were no house built for us, so my dad build us a house. He was such a good carpenter. Our house was made from bamboo and wood stilt. The wood stile was for the foundation where the house stood and the bamboo was for the wall and the floor.We had to be careful with the bamboo floor because if we sit wrongly the bamboo would pinch you and it would hurt. The roof was made out of flax weave together by my parents. There were big trees surrounding the house and when it is sunny it would be really cool because the tree would shade us from the sun. Once a lot of refugee flooded into the camp the house/apartment was made for family and we had to move.

Our new house was small but once our neighbour move oversea we break down the wall that separate the two apartment so our house became bigger. I remember us not having much food to eat since it is ration by the Thai government but we has enough to keep us alive. We were out going children. We would made up a fantasy story and would go exploring. We explore most of the camp area. One of our favorite game was playing tag up in the tree which i fell off once because the whole branch where i sat broke off. I wasn't hurt but it was such a mystery because it was such  big branch and i was really small, so how could the whole branch broke off just like that all of a sudden.

We had TV at our apartment where we watch Thai drama so that where we learnt Thai from. We stayed at the camp for 3 years so before we came to New Zealand out language in Thai was fluent but after coming to New Zealand I could only speak a little bit of Thai but i can understand it.

The last day of camp was a fun day because we thought it was a whole new adventure for us. Out parents took us shopping for new clothes to take to Thailand. I had a pretty dress which gotten dirty because I spew up on it while I was on the airplane. we waved goodbye to our friend and made our way to the airport. All I remember was that the airport was dark and falling asleep on the airplane and spewing up on my brand new dress. The next thing I knew was that I was already in New Zealand where they took us to a camp to prepare us for living in New Zealand.  In New Zealand i had a brand new house and school and friends. I’m glad my parents choose New Zealand to live in.

short story - "Children of Migration"

This is a short story as a response to the documentary film “Children of the Migration” directed by Lala Rolls. The film reminds me of my journey to New Zealand.

An 18-year-old girl travelling alone with only a pack of clothing behind her back and a gate pass to a new world. A first experience she will never forget, thinking if she made the right decision. While travelling she remembers everything, her relatives, her culture, and her loving grandparents. She asked herself. Why am I leaving my homeland? Where am I going?

She realise that this is going to be a long journey and a new one too. A journey not to gain farther education or job opportunity but to seek the last piece her mother and sister left her for 16 years. A piece that symbolises “unity and family” as she step on to the new world she took a deep breath and said “finally” then smiled at her mother and sister. Felt relieved and blissful for the bond she longed for, she realised that everything will be different from now on. Now, she needs to learn new culture, new language, meet new people, and adapt to the new environment.

She felt homesick and the pressure of new things she needs to learn, it was difficult for her. Tears run down on her cheeks and could not stop.

Her mother was worried for her and told her if she wants to go back home. She saw the sadness on her mother’s eyes. She felt her mother is yearning for them to be together. She realised that this is her new home now and tried to stop herself from crying.

The night came to calm her down and the day came to remind her to start a new life in the new environment. As days passed by, she learned to work for the first time and earned money for the first time. As months passed by, she was accustomed to the new language, new people, and the new environment.

                         

She may have felt comfortable in the new environment, but she never forgotten about her native land and family she left back home. Being accustomed does not mean she forgotten about her own language, her friends or relatives she left behind, and her native land. Everything will remain as a part of her.

As years pass by, she became more educated and wondered if she would experience the same obstacles if she arrived earlier or later. She thought that maybe she would experience fewer obstacles if she came earlier and experience more obstacles if she came later. Then she told herself “I think I just arrived on the right time”.

As she was thinking about the big waves she had ridden in life, she wondered if anyone has the same obstacles as her. She realised that people may share the same obstacles in life; one’s journey is always special or different from others.

Poem - "The Turtle and the Shark"

Poem as a creative response to the adapted story from Samoa, a short animated film, "The Turtle and The Shark" by Ryan Woodward.

The music let me feel, fear.

Fear the future that comes,

Let me feel, the sadness.

Sadness the unfulfilled obligation might bring,

Let me feel, relieved.

Relieved on easing, the fear and sadness.

The art made me appreciate, the tradition.

Tradition with culture, beliefs, and values,

Made me understand, the culture.

Made me see their beliefs,

Made me realize, the values.

Music can make an impact to everyone,

But, making it like an oral tradition,

Made the story, significant.

Not only to me, but to everyone.

Everyone, who understand the culture.

Everyone, who see the beliefs and realize the moral value.

Poem - "Navigating Space"

I made this poem “Moulded by Diversity” as a response to the spoken word performance of Grace Taylor “Navigating Space”. 

Moulded by Diversity

When I was young,

They thought I was Chinese,

As I grew older,

They thought I was Cambodian,

I doubted myself, my origin.

In my search,

I fall deeper and deeper,

It was so calm and quiet,

I realised and understood,

I, myself consist of others.

A range of cultures,

Cultures, adapted from others.

I, myself must

understand the past, the beginning

because that past is my present.

I know, who I am,

I know, where I am from

I am a Filipino

I am a mixture

Not unique, moulded by diversity

once, I was certain then uncertain

now, I know, I am a mixture

This is where I’ll start,

This is where I belong,

This is who I am.

I am moulded by diversity

delighted and contented

Standing firm speaking aloud

For everyone to hear

“I am a Filipino, I am mixed”

short story - "The Turtle and the Shark"

This is a short story as a creative response to the short animated film "The Turtle and the Shark" by Ryan Woodyard. The short animated film reminds me of a lifestyle or more like a tradition in Philippines. A tradition mostly Eastern country follows. A family tradition where the firstborn child is considered the responsible, reliable, and strongest out of the siblings.

Daniel was the eldest of five siblings. His parents work as a servant in a wealthy family in the Philippines. Evelyn, Daniel's mother, works 6 days a week as a nanny of the Governor’s children and Allan, Daniel's father, works as a private driver of the Governor in their area. His parents were hardworking people but the money earned could barely give them food in the table.

Daniel as an eldest is responsible to look after his younger siblings everyday due to his parents working late mostly every day. When he was 12, he felt the pressure of being the eldest and the obligation he must do. He once thought that his parents, especially her mother cared more on the other children than her own. This causes him to be reserved in front of his parents. The pressure eases up due to his younger siblings being obedient. He started to be less reserved.

At the age of 15, he dreamed to be a successful doctor someday. And when he turned 17, he asked his parents if he could pursue his dream as a doctor. His parents were delighted about his dream; however, they do not have the money for the tuition fee. Even if he gets a scholarship, it is still not enough for his daily transportation, and daily necessities. He felt disappointed and lost. He do not know what to do next. His father talked to him and tried to convince him to understand their current situation. His father also told him to wait for a couple of years. Allan, Daniel's father, suggested if Daniel was willing to work while waiting for his parents to have enough money to support him. He still felt disappointed but realized that his parents also have his younger siblings to feed and support. He thought there was nothing he could do but agree to his father.

He started finding a job but no one will accept him because he is still not on the legal age for work. For a year, he stayed home and took care for his siblings, learned to cook, and be a father and a mother figure to his siblings. Undeniably, he matured and more responsible. When he turned 18, he decided to try to look for work again. Six months passed by, he found a job he could do. Tomorrow will be a new beginning for him. He has been working in his current job for almost 2 years. Both His parents and Daniel still has not enough money to support him.

At the age of 20, Daniel was in his room, waking up early in the morning opening the curtain. It was a Monday morning. The sun has not yet risen. His two male younger siblings were still sleeping in the room on their small beds. Being careful not to wake them, he leaves the bedroom quietly to prepare himself for work. Before leaving the room, he picked up his overalls draping his brother's study desk. He was disturbed by it he feels that his overalls should not be near his brothers’ desk. It unnerves him, but he brushes it off and leaves the room. While preparing his lunch, he was deep in thoughts thinking if there will come a day that his dream will come true or will it stay as a dream.

It made me realize that we may have different traditions, and culture, but this proves that we are similar in a way, our belief on putting the need of the whole family first before own needs.