Invasion Day

Yesterday, to celebrate the day that in 1770 Captain Cook pretended to discover Australia we had a public holiday. Pretended? Why yes, he already had a map of most of "New Holland", all he had to do was fill in the gaps. I can imagine the Dutch handing him the maps saying "You're welcome to it mate, it's hotter than hell, there's bugger all water and the weirdo fauna will either bite, sting or beat you to death".
"Sounds like just the place we need to dump our social problems" says Cook and sets out to plant a flag and lay claim.
I'm not proud of the whitey history of Australia - our attempted genocide of the native population continues and our devastation of the fragile eco system also continues. I'm ashamed of our prime minister's (any of them) Renfield like snivelling to the USA. The USA rips us off on trade deals and demands we have a certain percentage of American content on our television. They demand that we support them in their war mongering and demand to have military bases (including nukes) on our soil. In return we get the nefarious promise that if anybody ever tries to invade they will rescue us. They have locked up our citizens for years on end without charge and without trial and all our PM does is say "may I lick your bottom again please Sir?"
So I don't buy into the Australia Day stuff, but I'll happily have the public holiday thank you very much. Hypocrisy abounds.
The girl and I took the opportunity to ride our bike (my bike with the tandem attachment) to the National Botanic Gardens. It was well over 30C and the husband scoffed at our stupidity but we trundled off regardless. Last week I rode my bike to work, it's just over 12km and I coped reasonably well considering my current pathetic fitness level, and since the Botanic Gardens are across the road from work I figured I could do it.
And I did.
In homage to the day that was, we went to the cafe and ordered a meat pie (the Australian national dish) with chips and salad. Another thing I'm not proud of - our food sucks! As a token calorie concession I ate the salad, the girl ate the pie and we shared the chips. With the 15% public holiday surcharge a pie, a coffee and a lemonade cost us $23. Outrageous!
After lunch I lazed about on the lawn trying to recover enough for the ride home and the girl went lizard spotting amongst the bushes. I scoffed at the people with their Australia t-shirts and little (union jack containing - I will never get over the Australian public voting to remain a part of the commonwealth in 1999) flags painted on their faces and laughed joyously at the little boy with the plastic colander on his head.
I admire parents who let their kids be weird, in fact, I adore it. My girl would show up to day care in all manner of things - fairy dress and gumboots, odd shoes, whatever she wanted. Parenting is hard enough without fighting meaningless battles.
The pedal home was arduous. It was hot and there were lots of hills. The hardest part of the journey home is actually the last few blocks - it's a long, slow, incline that takes the last of my strength and leaves me collapsed in the front yard gasping for air like a landed fish.
The girl rewarded my efforts by putting The Addams Family DVD on instead of Barbie and the Magic of the Rainbow (ack!) and I lay on the couch for a few hours while my lungs regained their composure.
At dinner time she said "I think next time we go to the Botanic Gardens we should drive because I was falling asleep most of the way".
Later that evening after the girl was tucked up in bed, I flicked the telly on and caught the end of Sicko, the Mike Moore film. An American woman was reduced to tears in a Cuban pharmacy when she discovered she could buy the inhaler she needed for 5c when in the States it cost her $120. She commented that on $1000 a month income and needing two inhalers a month it was a burden. It made me appreciative that the inhaler I need for my asthma is only $30, and even more appreciative that if I was unemployed or on a low income it would only cost me $3.50.
I reflected on the society that we live in: we have access to free health care and if you have no income there is usually some sort of social security benefit you can get. Unless of course you are a student, then if your parents can't afford to give you money you must give up all hope of going to Uni and go and work in a factory - we can't have the working class getting edjumacated, all sorts of riff raff will start showing up at the golf club!
But apart from the exclusivity of higher education and the embarrassingly short life span and high infant mortality rate of our indigenous folk - we actually ain't that bad.
Let me list the good things:
- free and good quality health care
- decent education for primary and secondary
- freedom of speech and religious expression
- very limited access to fire arms
- legalised abortion
- scientists can pursue their research without their homes getting fire-bombed
- an abundance of fresh food and clean water in spite of our mostly desert status
- some of the most spectacular landscapes in the world
- a generally (very generally) laid back and tolerant population.
OK, so I'm not going to start waving the flag, but I will give thanks that I live here and that my not-so-distant ancestors CHOSE to come here and not the alternative.

Today is our two year anniversary of marriage. To my darling husband who took the girl to day care and collected her again so I could ride my bike to work and has just fed, bathed and put her to bed so I could sit here and blog, and who cooked a glorious Tom Yum for dinner I would like to say: "Sure, there are stones amongst the diamonds, but most days I wouldn't swap you for a fully recoed right hand drive Chev Bel Air full of Belgium chocolate".