backpacker, Chantelle, who by chance walked through the door of the bar he was working at in the bustling East Beirut nightlife district. “We fell in love, and lucky for me, Chantelle had also fallen in love with Lebanon. So she rented an apartment in Beirut, and we applied for a visa to Australia. “After a lengthy 19 month wait for my visa to be approved, I was on my way.” Upon arriving in Australia, Soumi was thrown in the deep end culturally as he first lived in rural NSW. “Chantelle picked me up from the airport, and we had a few nights in Sydney before we headed off to Leeton. I have never spent that much time in a car. Lebanon is literally half the size of Tasmania. Each time we approached a town, I hoped this might be ‘Leeton,’ but we just kept driving, further inland, away from the coast. And for someone who grew up on the Mediterranean, my head was spinning.” “I’m not going to lie; it was a big culture shock. “I took a job at the local Soldier’s Club. I called the raffles and the bingo and learned the lingo – ‘22
little ducks’ and ‘88 two fat ladies.’ I also picked up a lot of Australian slang like ‘righto’ and ‘fair dinkum.’ It was a great experience, but all of this came in a hard way. I would frequently be referred to as ‘Bin Laden,’ ‘Muhammad,’ ‘bloody Arab,’ or cautioned ‘don’t blow yourself up here.’” Soumi insists these names were always said as a joke and weren’t truly offensive, but they did serve as a reminder that he was a “stranger or outside,” going on to say that “these jokes always remind you that you need to make your way to belong. I became friends with those people who used to call me ‘Bin Laden,’ and now they don’t allow anybody to call me by these names.” “It was my experience that by engaging with people, I won them over. As a result, I was being invited to share my story as a new migrant guest speaker at local community events. People were genuinely interested to learn more about my country and culture. I took advantage of this to help change perceptions of not just me as a person but my country and my culture.” Soumi said. “I strongly encourage all new arrivals to spend some time out in the bush. I believe this should be part of everyone’s Australian migration story. It is such an
enriching experience, and you’ll get a real insight into daily ‘Australian’ lives. You’ll meet locals who will invite you in for a ‘cuppa’. It forces you out of your comfort zone and I believe my time in the Riverina set me up for success in my business.
Sweeping leaves and making friends Soumi and his wife Chantelle decided to move to Canberra because they felt it was time to get back to city life but were still close to family. “When we first moved to Canberra, I registered with a hospitality temping agency. I was called into work at the 2015 Budget night at Parliament House, where I served then Prime Minister Tony Abbott and Finance Minister Joe Hockey. This was a surreal experience for me. You are not allowed to see the prime minister in my country; you could get shot if you tried to approach them. Australia showed me this; even the country’s leader is just a person. My mum could not believe that the Prime Minister of Australia was standing beside me, and I served him a beer. She still reminds the neighbors of this story.” “I will never take for granted how great this country has been to me and continues to be. There is equality and opportunity. You know you are going to wake up tomorrow if you go to sleep, you know no one is going to come and take your home, and you know that if you are struggling financially, the government will give you an allowance to survive so you can keep your dignity as a human.” “It took me several months to find ongoing employment. I was offered and accepted a very junior position collecting glasses, polishing cutlery, and sweeping the leaves from the outdoor area. “An opportunity presented itself to prove my worth beyond my 7
