Leaving a thick trail of oily diesel smoke across the polished sea, our noisy boat continued to violate nature's serenity as it stumbled toward a wooden dock. At last, after exhausting days and nights hopelessly waiting for a miracle, the boat finally arrived at Darwin, located in the central Northern tip of Australia. I would never have believed until now that I would actually be standing here in this charming country in which I could call home. People screamed in overwhelming joy, and children rushed towards the deck hoping to fill their stomachs after days without food.
After our briefing, a security truck, with red lights flashing, led our jeep to a nearby shelter. It was here where the serious business of casting fates was being conducted. A government representative, in this case an attorney, interviewed each person who arrived, soon determining whether an applicant's qualifications for resettlement could be met. That crucial decision made all the difference for thousands of people. Since the Vietnamese war, increasing numbers of applicants were found to be economic migrants, technically not refugees, and therefore they did not qualify for resettlement in Australia. The interview sometimes lasted for more than an hour. Sixty percent of the time, the decision made was unfavourable because we were classified as 'queue jumpers'.
-Helen Huynh
-Helen Huynh
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