xXpatM@
February 28, 2008
Somewhere in the Department of Immigration & Citizenship are some non-existant bits of paper (or the modern version at least, bits of data on computer) which are causing pain and suffering for me but particularly for my mum. I say non-existent because there doesn’t seem to be anything which categorically says that I am, or I amn’t, an Australian Citizen.
As far as the bits of paper are concerned, I’m an Irish Tourist, but my birth, my history and my family tell another story.
So which is right? (and the difference may mean I’ll have to leave… but where to?)
I was born in Sydney, at Crown Street Women’s Hospital. My Mum was born in Sydney, as was my Dad. Like many people in Australia, I have a proud, sometimes muddled, mixed heritage. Depending on who you ask in the family, I’m an Irish, Hungarian-Gypsy, Anglo-French mongrel. With possibly a bit of Jewish blood down the line and, romantically it seems, a touch of Koori too. I was called a ‘skip’ at school, which I hated, as I wasn’t from convict stock and I didn’t feel ‘anglo’, I was at least as ‘foreign’ as my Italian, Maltese, Greek and Spanish friends at North Annandale Primary School as most of those had generations of history here, I had 70 years. But it seems freckles and fair skin made me a skip by default.
I was in the Scouts, even the nerdy cousin of scouts, the Boys Brigade (odd for a nominal Catholic I’m sure) and I served, well, studied electronics (badly), in the Royal Australian Air Force.
But according to the rule of law, I’m not an Australian and I’m not entitled to be here except, as an Irish tourist on a 3mth visa.
How did this confusion come about? I wanted to see Europe, and as I didn’t have much money, I wanted to work there.
– A small, petty issue of passports and dual citizenship.
to be continued… (laptop battery going flat)…
