The Southern Highland News will present an ongoing series of stories about refugees and their supporters to give insight to people's hopes and drives to seek asylum.
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Michelle al Obaidi is a Southern Highlands grandmother who taught English to children in Syria and married an Iraqi refugee with Australian citizenship. This is her story.
"A LOT of refugees came into Cobram [central Victoria] as new settlers. I was a tourist officer and also teaching English in a composite class to children with learning difficulties. I started up an English class for refugees as an off-shoot of that. People in Cobram believed, for their easy integration, it was in their best interests to understand our culture and language, and they were eager to learn.
"I thought it was my responsibility as an Australian to give these people a welcome, just as I'd seen my parents and grandparents do after World War II. We're a generous people, Australians, but it's been eroded from us by the governments we've elected to do the job. What governments must remember is that they work for us. They must project our opinions.
"I met my Iraqi husband, Mohammad al Obaidi, in Cobram in 2000. Like many refugees, he arrived with food coupons and an address for the real estate agent, but could not read, write or speak English. He came in to buy a bus ticket and ended up joining my class. My father started helping him, and I got to know him. We married in a civil ceremony in Shepparton in 2003.
"My husband is in Baghdad at the moment. He has family there and he's running a little shop because he is the eldest son. He doesn't like the responsibility, but he is an honest man. He's a grandfather now, on that side, and I'm a grandmother, on this side, and that's just our marriage and it works well for us. We're still together: we talk morning and night [through video chat].
"I lived in Syria in 2004 for six months and in 2005 for five months. It reminded me of Australia when I was young: the corner shop, the communication between back fences. I was treated with respect, even when I didn't wear a hijab. The Syrians accepted me. I want to let people know these people are so like us. Australians are good people and so are they.
"There was a young girl two doors down and her father grazed sheep out the back. I would go sit out back and he could speak a bit of English. He asked me to teach her a bit, so I did. She told different kids, and they'd all end up at my place. I got a blackboard and taught the basics. They'd want to touch my hair. Their mothers asked if my hair felt different to theirs.
"The day I left, about 15 of them came to my door and spoke English and said, "goodbye teacher, we will miss you, thank you". I've always wanted to go back and build my own school. They come from a poverty-struck area of Damascus and if I could give them the command of English, it would be powerful for them. They'd have a better life. They might be dead now.
"I went to a course in Shepparton helping with people with trauma. One scenario was, you can hear the shelling, you've got 15 minutes to leave, what would you take and how would keep your family together? That's what I want people to envisage, just as we've seen thousands and thousands of people walking from country to country, as we sit here in Australia.
"When I married Mohammad, people would say, You're with this Iraqi, what do you eat every night? I'd say, I don't know, the same I used to eat every night. There's that mentality: people are frightened and it is a natural human instinct to be frightened of the unknown. But to get to know another culture, it's a wonderful, rounding thing for your personal development."
Support asylum seekers through Rural Australians for Refugees (RAR). Search Facebook for Southern Highlands RAR or email rar.australia@gmail.com